A Dramatic Turn Of Events

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

I wake to the horrid smell of rotting meat. My eyes flutter open to reveal a gray ceiling with multiple large rotating fans. And I am immediately hit with an unbearably strong cold feeling. I'm laying flat on my back. I feel as if I can't move but I lift my head despite it. I look up from where I'm laying. The sight makes me gasp and clamp my eyes shut. Corpses of animals hang around me with blood still dripping from them. It seems that I am in a meat cellar. My clothes have been replaced with a thin hospital like gown. The layer of frost on my pale skin is an indication that I've been here for a while.

What kind of cruel torture is this?

Thoughts of Ashton flood my mind. He is not in here with me. So that means that they have him. Somewhere. I wonder if he is alright. Have they given him a punishment similar to mine? Is he even alive..?

I can't bare the thought of that..

The pale blue light on the far right corner of the room flickers relentlessly. Thoughts of my mom come into play as time passes. I still have no idea what to think of the whole situation. I wish I could just push it out of my mind. But I cannot.  Though the chilling temperature of the room is a distraction. I trace my fingers along the dark blue tiled floor, I can barley feel it. The tips of my fingers are numb. I try to stand but my legs are shaking, and I'm feeling quite dizzy. The nearest wall is about fifteen feet away. I crawl to it, eventually being able to stand with help of the wall. My breath is now uneven, I'm exhausted just from standing. But now I have a better vantage point.

I see a large door on the other side of the room. There is a small window on it. I put my head down and sigh in defeat. The door seems to far away. I turn around, and put my back to the wall, I let my knees give out and I sink to the floor. I pull my knees up to my chest and try not to cry.

At some point I must have dosed off, because I feel a sharp pain in my stomach that shakes me awake. My eyes shoot open, and I find my self staring a a muscular back. I've been thrown over someone's shoulder. I don't have the energy to kick, or fight back. My limbs just sway with the rhythm of his walk. I hear the large door, that I had looked at from afar earlier, creak open. We walk down a few corridors,  going left and right twice. After about five minutes I lose track of our location. My eyes begin to droop. Whats taking so long? Where are we even going? Eventually we end up walking up a very steep set of stairs. So steep, infact,  that I feel that I may slip from the man's hands. But he tightens his grasp on my legs as we climb higher and higher up to our destination.

And my eyes drift closed again. What ever they've given me, it's strong.

It didn't last though.  I am shaken awake again. This time by being tossed onto something soft. A couch, maybe. I open my eyes, I'm on a chair. A pretty comfy one if I might add. I scan the rest of the roomc and realize that we are in what looks like an old school building.  I see old, rusty desks in the far corner of the room. There is a blue chalk board mounted on the south end of the room. It has a lengthy crack in it.

My eyes stop on a desk that has been brought to the middle of the floor, just ten or twenty feet away from me. Tied to the desk is a badly beaten Ashton.  His eyes are closed but I can see that he is still breathing from the steady movements of his chest rising and falling. His hair is messy, and unkempt. The left side of his face is badly swollen and bruised. He has a large gash on his cheek that extends to his chin, running through his bottom lip.

"Ashton." I whisper in a weak voice. I dash out of my seat, but I don't make it very far. My legs give out on me again and I tumble to my feet. Ashton must have heard me fall to the floor because he opens his eyes, and straightens in his seat. I attempted to get back up but the same man who brought me up here walks over to me with heavy steps. He pulls back his foot and kicks me right in the stomach.  I fall onto my back, and cry out as a surge of pain shoots throughout my abdomen.  Ashton yells my name. Over and over. The man kicks me continously. 

"Astrid!" Ash screams. "Get away from her!" He says again. But his voice is low and hoarse. I almost don't recognize the voice as his. He sounds like he hasn't has a drop of water to drink in days. I roll onto my side trying to crawl away from the man. And in mid swing, a voice stops the man from following through with his next blow.

"Enough." The calm, collected voice booms from the other side of the room. Silence swallows the room as i wait for another kick. It doesn't come though. I lift my head to seen Damien standing in the doorway. My mother, if I should even call her that anymore, follows suit. My gaze rests on Ashton. He's looking at me with remorse evident in his eyes. I know he thinks all of this is his fault.

"Hello Astrid." Damien pauses, casting his gaze to Ashton. "Son." He acknowledges him with a curt nod. Ashton's face contorts with anger.

"Don't call me that. I haven't been your son since the moment you decided that me and Arabella were objects that you could treat like shit." He spat. Fighting against his restraints.  I've never seen him this angry before.

Damien's eyes darkened,  he walked closer to Ashton pulling his sleeves up. I expect him to punch him, but instead he slams his elbow into Ashton's face.  I hear a loud grunt that follows.  I want to get up, but I don't think I can. My mother comes forward and touches Damien's shoulder. She whispers something in his ear and he gives her a hesitant look but exits the room and walks down the hall.

My mother couches by my side.

"Are you alright?" She asks in an almost genuine tone.

Almost.

I ignore her.

"Oh, the silent treatment.  I get it. You used to do this to me all the time. Especially when you wanted to eat those really unhealthy stuffed pretzel things and you-"

I cut her off.

"Don't sit here and try to reminise with me. I dont even know who you are. You aren't my mother. You never were. And you never will be!" I shout with as much strength as i can muster.

She closes her eyes. " Astrid, I didn't want to do this. I really,  really didn't but when you misbehave like this I have no other choice." She stands up, extending her long legs above me. She reaches into the waist band of her sleek black trousers and reveals a gun. She looks to make sure that it has amo. Then extends her arm. But not at me.

At Ashton.

She glares at him. He returns her glare with bravery. Not wavering at the fact that she has a gun pointed at his face.

I get up, slowly. Though every muscle in my body screams against it. I quietly grab a rusty chair in the nearby cluster of desks. She doesn't here me. She's saying some prayer. I pick up the chair and inch towards her.

"Hey Mom." I say, putting stress on the word that no longer holds any meaning to me.  She turns around. And I swing. I swing the chair at her. Hard.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I can't stop. I keep hitting her with the chair. I imagine her as the women who lied to me my who life. Robbed me of my sense of normality. The woman who killed my father. And now I'm killing her. Absent-mindedly.

Strong arms wrap around me, and I know that it's Ashton holding me. I don't know how he broke out of his restraints, but at the moment I don't care.  I hadn't realized that I was crying until he ripped the chair away from my grasp and I violently sob into his chest wanting all of this to end.

I look down through misty eyes at the remnants of the woman who used to be my mother. She's nothing but a stranger now.

A dead stranger.

Author's note:

Oh my gosh..

I am so so so very sorry for making you wait so long.

Long time no see. (hypothetical)

How are you guys? Good? That's great.

Annnyyywwaayyys.  Let's get down to business.  I want you guys to do me a favor and find people to read this. I have a goal that I would like to achieve in the very near future.  I want to get to 3K reads.

Pleaaasssee help me with this. Don't forget to vote.

Goodbye my lovelies. ♡♡

》Terra