Wobbling out of the doorway to begin your daily chores, it was hurting already. Blaise was correct in handing you extra bandages home, for by the end of today, there was going to be a lot more bleeding for your sore feet. No doubt it would slow you down in your workload; dammit, what a pain this was. Maybe you shouldn't have gone to the ball... because was momentary freedom worth all of this? For the next few days, you would have to deal with this, while for the rest of your life, you would have scars all over them.
The washing bin was in the bathroom, so you went over there first. Bent over to hold onto the wooden, heavy bin, you sharply hissed to yourself when you had accidentally put pressure on the toes. Blinking away sudden tears, you began to slowly walk back out to the hallway. Creaky floors beneath you, you wished you could hurry and get outside already. At least by then you could sit down and rest the poor feet for a while. If only they could have healed as quick as the medicine had healed your illness a few weeks ago.
As you were about to reluctantly slide your feet onto your sandals, stepmother slowly descended down the stairs with her smile a cold one. "My... what happened to your feet?" she questioned, immediately locking down to the floor. You stiffened with your heart pounding. How did she notice so fast?
"I was... doing my chores last night and accidentally stubbed them," you lied, lowering your eyes timidly.
"Oh really?" she said, raising her drawn-in eyebrows. Through her tone of voice, you figured she didn't buy it at all. "You somehow hurt both of them?"
The next minute went by too fast. Watching in confusion to see the woman pulling her skirts up, you could only stand there, frozen in place. Your reaction time way too slow, she had caught you in her web. Lifting her right leg upward, she stomped it down right towards... your already damaged enough foot. The heavy weight slammed down against your tender skin and searing pain spread throughout your body once more, a million times worse. You were so wrong... so, so wrong. Stepmother would never fail to improve her tactics on torturing you.
The cry left your lips and echoed throughout the house. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You crumpled to the ground, sobbing as you cradled your foot. The white bandages easily began turning a dark red, turning warm and wet in your palms. Your body shaking in horror, you realized this nightmare was never ending. How could someone feel the need to do such a thing to others? What kind of twisted satisfaction was she gaining from doing this?
She only laughed in glee at the sight of your broken state. "Cinder... did you feel beautiful last night? Did you enjoy mocking my family? Did you enjoy dancing with the Prince?" she sneered, grabbing a fistful of your [h/c] locks to force yourself to look straight into her terrifyingly furious eyes. Shit. You knew there was a chance she'd find you out, but what wasn't expected was the additional pain. "Are you proud of yourself yet?"
Everything began to feel so dizzy, due to the amounts of blood you were losing. "What do you want me to say?" you asked her, through your deep breaths. "Sorry? For attending a ball? For experiencing freedom for once?" You internally gasped at yourself, unable to believe you just did that. Normally, you could never go against stepmother... but perhaps this unknown courage was coming from the fact that were lightheaded.
"You bitch!" she snarled, standing up with her claws still in your hair. She pulled you along at the scalp, sending more agony towards your way. Dragged along by her hand, you crawled with her like an obedient dog to prevent further pain at the scalp. She was pulling so roughly that it could almost tear your hair out. Whimpering in hopelessness, you were led up the stairs and up one last set of stairs. It was to the attic, a long deserted room filled of cobwebs, dust, and mice. She pushed you up there and you crashed to the dirty, wooden floors of the narrow space. Too sore to move, you couldn't do anything as she crawled back down the ladder and slammed the trap door on you. A click signaled that it was locked from the outside.
YOU ARE READING
Ashes of CinderHorror
[Yandere x Reader] Loosely based off of Cinderella || Where the godmother wasn't really a fairy godmother, but a man who was obsessed with the naive, yet kind girl.