You're Killing Me

9

Chapter 9

Slick sweat trickled down my forehead; cooling against the fire that burnt my skin. I awoke in a slump, feeling dazed and stuffy; the throbbing in my neck causing me to wince. What the hell happened?

My hand reached to tap the painful area, which I really wished I hadn't. As soon as my fingertips touched the flesh, a bolt of fresh pain zigged-zagged everywhere. I hissed out bloody murder. Christ Almighty. Prying my eyes open was a task in itself, but I managed. I looked down to see my body wrapped awkwardly in a white sheet with strange markings across the material. I peered closer. Blood. It was fucking blood.

Heart racing, hands trembling, I gripped the sheet to my chest, thanking God that I wasn't butt naked. My thoughts were jumbled as I tried to fight through the discomfort of remembering. But even as much as I wanted to push the remnants of what took place in the night to the furthest and most darkest corner of my mind, I couldn't. The images were too raw; his heat – scorching and unfathomable, his touch – possessive and searing, and his eyes- molten gold that blackened to the most sensual of darkest nights. How could I forget that?

The morning glow lightened the room, reassuring me that I was completely alone. My eyes darted across the space, back and forth as if not trusting their ability to see. Okay Leigh, breathe and think.

Nervous and yeah, a little scared, I rose slowly to a sitting position, pulling my legs out to hang over the edge of the bed. I lowered my feet to the carpet, rising to stand.

Nicely done, now keep moving.

Pushing last night's events to the back of my mind, I walked towards the door. Twisting the knob, I pulled it open. The hallway had a bit of light, enough to guide me through the house but the thought of stepping out released a new wave of apprehension. What if he's hiding around the corner?

Swallowing down the bile of fear, I moved slowly into the hallway. Just as I was about to take another step, a feminine cry reverberated along the walls. Just hearing things. Ignore. Leave. Just a ghost.

As much as I wanted to ignore the sound, I couldn't. Cursing, I headed in the direction of where I thought it came from.

The cry came again, this time much louder. Did he take others like me?

A strange and unfamiliar tug in my gut made me halt. The thought of him doing what he did to me last night to others didn't... sit well. Damn it, stop. Shaking off my dark thoughts, I stalked forward.

I descended concrete stairs, going down until the temperature dropped dramatically.

How far down does this shit go?

Finding a door, I turned the handle, pushing and wincing at the loud, screeching sound it made.

It was a basement used as a torture cell. My stomach dropped at the contents inside.

A concrete four dimension room was lit by a single harsh light, showcasing red stains across the ground. But even worse, to the right, in thick, rustic chains dangling alongside the wall, were two bodies. A man and woman that looked like death, beaten and bloodied. The lady clothes were ripped and dirtied across her figure, revealing shallow movements coming from her chest. She was alive. I couldn't say the same for the man. His head lolled to his chest.

Bile rose in my throat, the putrid stench of rotting flesh harsh against my nose.

Breathing faster through my mouth, I walked to the bodies. Pushing past the dizziness and sickening stench that made me want to haul my empty stomach out, I reached out to grip the bolts that kept the woman trapped. Trying not to let her scabby and blackened wrist put me off, I tugged with everything I had in order to remove the bolt from its latch.

She started to cry, incoherent sounds coming from her mouth. She was petrified.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here to help you," I whispered.

Seeing that the bolt was nearly undone, hope bloomed inside. Her cries silenced, and all that was left were the ragged sounds of her shallow breaths.

"Come on," I chanted, frustrated at how stubborn the thick metal item was being.

Finally it released her hand, the skin marred with red, purple and black marks that bespoke of the cruelty she was privy to.

Freeing her completely, I reached for the man who was chained ruthlessly against the wall. It was obvious that he was treated far more harshly than the woman on the ground. My throat constricted at the sight of his blood-stained hair. I thought he was wearing a shirt, but it was bruises.

I didn't check for a pulse, I just wanted him out of the chains. He came off easily, and I lied him down on my knee so I could check for a pulse.

I cradled his head, stroking with gentle care. What do I do now?

What could I do? I could hardly escape with two unconscious people that had been beaten to near-death. I couldn't just ask him to let us go. This situation was devoid of any hope.

A prickling sensation crept up my spine. Looking up at the doorway, I gasped.

Eyes that fought between gold and black mirrored that of a dark, lethal beast eyeing its prey. A violent tremor racked my body at the intensity of his glare. Vindictive and dark, his expression warned me of pain. Pain that would soon be delivered by the hands touched with animalistic cruelty.

I stared up at his figure, both mesmerised and disgusted at the evil that lurked beneath such a cold, beautiful exterior. Dressed in a black shirt that stretched from the sheer muscle of his body, and washed out jeans that complimented his towering frame and strength, there was no chance in hell he was in a reasonable state of mind. I was in deep shit.

He took note of my hands, still touching the man on my lap. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off, the suspense in the air nearly killing me. His lips pulled back into a sneer, his eyes becoming black like a starless night.

"Remove," He growled with barely contained menace, "your hands from his body."

I raised my head, incredulous.

"No," I whispered. Foolish girl.

A deep sound came from his throat, his lips pulling back to reveal more of his sharp teeth. There was a crazed look in his eyes, possessed by something unknown. He was more beast than man and he was out for blood. Snapping his eyes to mine, a snarl ripped from his throat at being challenged.