The Wrath Of The Ice King

33

"Romeo?" I whispered, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I was not given a response. His voice had not been there to comfort me. I was not given any reassurance. Romeo had unbuckled my belts, unzipping my pants and dragging it down my thighs, letting it get down to my knees. He always made sure to strip me completey. This was not an established scene. Romeo would never surprise me with a scene before making sure I was okay. Not once had he asked for my color, and not once had he spoken. 

Warm hands. No words. I had not even heard his voice. I did not know where I was. I did not know who I was with. All I knew was that I was being touched everywhere with the warmest hands that felt like frostbite. I choked suddenly, feeling myself fall down a rabbit hole, crashing into the walls of the underground as I feel down deeper and deepers, without an exit sign in sight.

I was blind. Mute. And alone.

"Romeo?" I cried out, my wrists getting numb to the point of me physically not being able to move or feel them. I was bound too tightly, too roughly. And not by Romeo's ropes. These ropes were not a material I was familiar with. They dug into my skin and hurt me, and now I was being touched by someone else. In a room that was cold. Bound to the bed. And mute. And cowardly. I was too scared to speak.

"Romeo, if this is you please tell me. Please." I begged, letting out a sob when my underwear was dragged down, exposing my lower body fully. The warm hands were now on my chest, feeling around, fonlding my skin and pulling at it roughly. These were not his hands. They were smaller. Rougher. And not familiar. I sobbed and wailed, feeling lightheaded. I was cold. I felt tainted and guilty, disloyal. 

I couldn't run or hide, I didn't know if I could scream. I could lay there and take it. I could try and kickt the person above me away. But my legs wouldn't budge and I oculdn't scream because I felt as if water had flood the entire room as was now filling up my lungs. I was muted. Romeo had not given me a voice. Therefore I could not use it. 

The party was still loud and if the man above me was speaking I oculd not hear him because all I heard was the laughter coming from the ongoing celebration. Celebration of my harassment. Celebration of my absence and the brutality of the reality surrounding the fact that I was about the get abused and touched by someone I had not seen, heard, or known. 

"Please don't do this. Please. Romeo is in there, he is probably searching for me right now, just let me go, I didn't see you I promise. I don't know what you sound like or what you look like, and I promise I will not tell just please. I'll let you touch me for a bit but then promise me you will let me go after you're satisfied. I will scream and cry if you'd like that, or, or, I can shut up and be good for you, but please let me go." I kept spluttering out ideas that came into my mind. Anything to be set free. But I made no sense. I could not form a correct sentence without letting my undying sobs get in the way. Meanwhile, he hands snaked around my waist and between my thighs, and I felt as if I was getting skinned alive. 

"I won't be able to live after this. Please, if not for me, let me go to spare a life. I will not be able to live with myself after this. Please, please, if you have an ounce of sympathy left, let me go. I won't utter a single word, and I will tell not even one soul. I haven't seen or heard you, pl-" I felt fingers gripping my hair harshly, pulling it to the side and making me let out a wail, thrashing around for the first time. I could not feel my wrists, but my lower body was still working. The man reached behind my head, pulling the blindfold off.

At first ı thought he was letting me go. I kept my eyes closed, waiting for him to undo my hands. I let out a breath, thanking him continously. "Thnak you, thank you, th-" He began to let out a series of laughs. His voice was deep and merciless, his laugher mocking and haunting. My skin went cold. He wasn't letting me go. He wanted me to see him. To hear him. So he would have no reason to let me leave.

"Open your eyes," he said. I did not recognize his voice. He was older than I was, and his voice was raspy. It was obvious that he was drunk as he was slurring his words, but from the cracks, I could tell he was a regular smoker as well. I felt sick. Sick to think that I had trusted this man and had been laying under him for the past half an hour. Thinking he was my lover.

I kept my eyes closed. I couldn't have opened them even if I wanted to. I was trying to convince myself that this was a nightmare I could wake up from. Anytime now, I would wake up in Romeo's arms, safe and placed between his cold arms. I'd wouldn't be happier anywhere else. 

The man gripped my face, his thumb prying at my eyelid. "I said, open your fucking eyes, cunt." Tears wet his fingers as I tried to move my face, crying and thrashing. When he noticed that I would not open my eyes and let myself take in his facial features, his fingers walked down my body, attacking my sides and tickling me. He tickled until more tears poured down my face, my eyes still shut tight, laughed being forced out of me. Because of the obnoxious laughter, we could not hear the banging on the door until a few seconds later.

"Open the fucking door." 

Romeo.