Dancing with Satan

Chapter Three

How are you guys liking it so far?

I was staring at the dirty, bloody carpet which indicated that I definitely wasn't the first prisoner or hostage that was held here. Not that I expected that I would be. These were the Rebels we were talking about, after all. They were ruthless and I meant that in every sense of the word.

The door flew open and by now I was getting used to it. I had been in here for three days at least, and I didn't know how much more I could take. I was thirsty and starving. It was a wonder that I hadn't passed out yet.

I looked up to see a new guy, one that I'd never seen before. He was covered in tattoos, including his face, and if looks could kill I would be dead four times over. 

He was older, maybe mid forties. He was bald, and his facial tattoos went all the way up to his head. He had a very faded, blown out grim reaper on his face that was quite the eye-catcher. Could you say yikes?

 I snapped my head back to the ground and closed my eyes as I let out a shaky breath. He looked creepy as hell and that's all I could say about that.

''Look at me,'' his rough voice chimed.

''I think I'll pass,'' I stated. My throat was very dry and it was giving me a fit.

He yanked my head up towards him by my hair and I bit my lip hard to avoid screaming in pain. I couldn't show weakness at this point, no matter how much I wanted to give up. I didn't want to fight this.

Then it hit me.

My guys would be disappointed if I gave up, and hell, I was a fighter. Always had been. So I was going to fight until I couldn't take it any longer.

''You look at me when I tell you to,'' the man said, releasing my hair. I hissed slightly, glaring at him as he kneeled down by me. His hand went up under my shirt before I even knew what the hell was going on.

''Don't you dare,'' I spat at him.

''Or what bitch?'' he leaned in closer, only inches from my face.

On the outside I may have looked calm but honestly I was panicking on the inside. I didn't want this disgusting pig touching me. ''There is no 'or what','' I told him. ''You have no right to touch me, and that's all there is to it. So don't fucking touch me again.''

His hand dropped to his side, and he laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. ''You're not really in the position to be barking out orders, remember? That's my job.''

His stood up to his full height and started unbuttoning his pants. The nerves really kicked in as I watched him. So, I did the most logical thing I could think of.

I brought my leg up as hard as I could, right up into his balls. 

I couldn't help the little snicker that escaped my lips as he fell to the ground, cursing and yelling something along the lines of 'stupid bitch.'

''What did I tell you, Mr. hot shot? That's what happens when you don't listen to my orders,'' I mocked him, knowing I was in deep shit for just doing that. However, the bastard deserved it and I got a good laugh out of it.

''Fuck you. You're going to pay for that,'' he yelled as he pulled himself off the ground.

''Come on buddy, give it your best shot.''

He punched me so hard in the face that my chair fell backwards and I hit my head on the hard floor. Damn that bit of confidence. I should've just kept my mouth shut.

I tried to untie my hands but just like the last three days, I wasn't successful. Blood ran down my lip and cheek. I wanted so badly to deck him right now but my hands were useless at the moment.