Pieces Of Me

Chapter 9 Eve

The voices are too far away for me to make out their words and the cells around me are still and quiet. I eventually sit back down with my arms back above me, pulling my legs close to my chest as my adrenaline slows down. It is cold and I am sore and tired.

With nothing else to take my attention and nothing immediately to do, I allow myself to doze off. I’m sure my captors will make themselves known soon enough and in the meantime, I need to regain what strength I can.

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A sharp prick to my neck makes my eyes jerk open. My feet lunge me into a standing position, instantly alert and growling. There is some light now but only enough to show the outline of two men in my cell and the glint of the needle tip in one of their hands. I feel the chains that had gone slack when I stood, tighten and lift me off my heels. I kick out my leg as one of the men steps closer to me.

He evades it neatly but I get him with my other foot that swiftly followed. He gives a grunt and falls back momentarily. He smells of wolf but not one I am familiar with.

“Uh, uh, ah, none of that, that’s not how you treat a new friend.” He chastises, moving to my side, stroking my hair, and following it down to cup one of my breasts. “And we are going to be such very... good... friends.” He pushes his nose into my hair and lets out a groan, drawing my scent into his nose loudly.

I move my face fast, latching my teeth onto his cheek and digging down hard. He thrashes, trying to get away. Finally landing a punch to my ribs, before pulling himself free.

“That wasn’t very nice.” He growls. I spit the trophy in my mouth at him and hear it hit his chest before it audibly plops on the ground.

“You're right,” I smirk. “You taste like ass.” His hand goes to his cheek where the large chunk is now absent.

“You bitch!” He roars, raising his hand to me. It is swiftly intercepted by the second man

“He said not to mark her face.” The second man says laughing.

“Yeah, well he said nothing about the rest of her, turn the feral bitch around.”

The second man walks back out of the cell and there is soon a humming noise, as my chains tighten further, feet dangling above the floor. I feel myself turning against my will, until my side scrapes the rock and then my nose, as I face the wall. I feel what was left of my dress, torn off my back before that disgusting man’s hands start roaming over my bare skin.

“Beautiful and soft, it’s a shame really.” He moves my hair aside and lays it over my shoulder. “Sorry, not sorry bitch.” He whispers harshly in my ear. He moves away from me and I strain my ears for a clue as to what he is up to.

It isn't long before I hear a strange swishing noise, swiftly followed by a crack, as my back burns like fire as it is torn open. My eyes bulge and my breath whooshes out in a rush. Before I can recapture my breath, the whooshing comes again and I know the whip is again airborne.

I struggle to keep my silence. Biting down into my shoulder to contain the screams that want to claw their way out of my throat. The whip flies through the air again and again. Every strike hits true and rips open a new part of my back until there is no more space and they begin to just cut deeper. I can feel my blood pouring down my legs.