𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝙴𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 || ✔

28(S)*

__________

But, I've never been so defenceless.

__________

My eyes flutter open, a dull throb emanating from my stomach. I groan slowly, clenching my eyes. My legs and arms seem free, but they are separately bound to longer chains, which limits my movement but allows me to move while I lay on the bed. Grasping the opportunity, I stretch my body, feeling my muscles ache from their former predicament.

"You look like a kitten waking up from a nap," Killian says, chuckling and entering the room from the attached bathroom. He looks like he just had a shower, his legs covered with sweatpants, his chest bare with droplets from his wet hair running down his neck.

I remain silent. It is the same as before. I am repeating my fate, letting him dominate me to avoid being hurt. I cry at night, plaster on submission in the day — saying and doing nothing. 

What else can I do?

Liam's dead. I came to terms with it three days ago when Killian allowed me to shower with my hands chained to the shower curtain's rod. I sobbed my heart out. I remember seeing Liam's blue eyes peer into my teary ones, his hand caressing my back, telling me to let it all out. I don't know what to do. There's no one to save me. No one to care for me. No one to think if I am alive or dead. For the past three years, I barely came to terms with my past, and here I am again, living the same past. The same fucking thing.

He is my master.

I can't escape. He won't allow me to. He has confined me to the same room for over a week, feeding me with my chains still binding me to the bed. The skin around my wrists and ankles is raw and bleeding, but he doesn't care anymore. The little humanity he had in him three years ago, is just a fake cover now. He smiles at me, talks to me, but it is a façade.

The worst thing is, I don't even care anymore.

Why should I? What is there for me to live for? A different, metal collar rests heavily on my neck, much too similar to the one I had on years ago. My body is fortunately covered by his sweatshirt after he took pity on me when I shivered at night. He is annoyed with me, I can see it. He wanted a challenge. He wanted me to fight him. He wanted to see me extinguish under the pain he inflicted.

Little did he know, I died the second Liam did.

He taught me how it was to laugh again. How it felt to be loved. The way I felt when he wrapped his arms around my waist was safe. He stopped when I asked him to. He kissed me only when I allowed it. He wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be his, but he waited for it. 

But he never even knew that I wanted him to be mine.

A tear rolls down my cheek as I curl on the bed, hiding my face between my arms. Killian pulls me out of my safety by talking lowly, "I expect you to behave like the slave you are, Sierra. I have been slacking off on you. Treating you like a princess, bringing you your food in bed, allowing you to not reply whenever you want, not making you pleasure me. What else do you want, hmm?" 

I want my freedom back. I want...I want Liam back.

"Nothing, master. I am sorry," I reply, sitting up.

"I know. I am giving you everything you want already," he comes to me, unlocking the chains from the bed, taking off the sweatshirt, and pausing to devour me with his eyes. "Shame that you ran away, Sierra, I would have trained you to be mine years ago," he says and cuffs my arms together behind my back. "On your knees, slut," he orders, flushing thousands of memories in my head. My frozen form shakes up with a stinging on my face.