Morphine

prologue

It is his familiar footsteps that wake me up. Loud, deliberate and deathly.

Panicking, I gather myself off the floor and huddle in the corner, feeling and scraping the wall, trying to make it disappear.

The metal door to the small, dingy room opens, revealing a tall, buff man. He's twice my size and that's one of the reasons why I decided that there was no hope in fighting him. There is a long scar that runs across his forehead. His dark eyes glint evilly as he advances on me.

I scrape the wall harder and hurt my hand in the process on its rugged surface. Pain shoots across my palm. But that is about the size of an atom compared to the one I am going to experience now.

"Please..." I whimper like a dying dog. "No..."

He only smiles. It's a scary smile; the expression along with that scar on his forehead intensifies the emotion, making me want to kill myself.

But there's no need for that. This man, my kidnapper, will do the job for me.

Out of nowhere he pulls out a long whip.

My heart beats resound in my ears. I move away from him, sobbing.

"No..." I beg. I hate that I'm being reduced to begging but all my dignity vanished the day he began torturing me. "Please, don't."

He lashes it against the floor, cornering me. The sound of the whip echoes throughout the room. Wh-tsh. Wh-tsh. It alerts every single organ of my body sending coherent thoughts and feelings into frenzy. I hate that sound.

"No." That cold word. "Someone has to pay."

Before I can prepare myself the whip lashes against my torso. The pain is indescribable. And it doesn't stop.

I scream out loud, but in vain.

If this is how I'm going to die I wish it would happen faster.