His Only Captive - (Far Cry Fan Fiction)

Chapter Twenty Five - Linger

Katerina released a sharp scream as the brute roughly snatched a fistful of her hair, brutally tugging her up from the chair and then lobbing her back onto the floor beside his feet. A crackled groan erupted from her lips as she buried her head into the floor. “Maybe,” the man growled, “I’ll just enjoy your beauty.”

Those very words flecked chills across her skin. She moaned into the floor and raked her bleeding hand across the ground, slowly tugging her body away.

“Where you goin’ baby?”

Fingers coiled around her ankles and made her body thrash against the ground even more, but it was no use. She grunted as her body was lugged backwards, and shrieked in pain as her wound scratched against the rough toothed ground. She felt the bone crunching impact of the brute’s body weighing her down and resting on her back. Before she could squeal or move, a set of calloused hands seized her skull, where they lugged it up into the air, before jolting it back down again. Katerina smacked her head against the floor with a stifled grunt. The blood that was trickling from her cheek now smeared across most of her face, and flooded the cold wet floor that she was lying on.

With the twist of his heavy hand, the brute flicked Katerina’s body, so that she rolled onto her back. A gust of breath erupted from Katerina’s lips as she tried to get the air back to her lungs. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t ya?” he hissed, ferocity juddering in his venomous voice. His hand quickly clouted against her cheek. Katerina squawked as her head snapped to the side. “You think that because someone shows some interest in you, it makes you a special sort of bitch!” “Wrong!” His hand crashed against her cheek again, snapping her head back to the other side. Wails seeped from Katerina’s lips as tears streamed down her burning face. His fingertips tangled around strands of her hair and, with a tight grasp on it, he tugged her head up so that his mouth was beside her ear. Her eyelids dropped over her dull eyes, and his lips parted as heavy blasts of breath spurted from her mouth.

“This is the end for you darling,” he hissed, chuckling will a chilling humour that made Katerina’s stomach flip and her body quake from repulsion. The smell of alcohol and bloody flesh swamped her, and lingered by her nostrils. She gaged and her breath rasped in her throat. Snapping her tongue across her chapped desert dry lips, she studied the fleshy neck of the man with her eyes squinting, creating the shape of almonds or sunflower seeds. As his head arched closer to hers, she swung her mouth to his jaw. Her hair flicked up in the air, and snapped across his skull as she jerked her neck forwards. A thunderous roar erupted from the brute’s mouth, and he quickly pulled away, with his palm grasping onto his jaw that was bleeding, with droplets of red fluid streaming down his hand. With a grunt he swung his arm and smacked Katerina in the face once again – her whole body swung to the side with her stomach colliding against the ice floor. “Fuckin’ crazy bitch,” he snorted as he apprehensively glared at his hand, doused in his red blood.

Dragging her body away with the movements of her elbows, Katerina swiftly crawled across the floor, smearing the brute’s blood off her lip with the back of her hand and flicking the blood of her teeth with her tongue. The vague metallically taste of copper for a moment seemed sweet, and the blood, for a second, was warm on her tongue.

Thud thud thud, echoed in her ear, with the scuffing of a boot, sounding similar to the scratching of a match. The man’s foot kicked up into the air and crashed against her stomach. A stifled groan burst from Katerina’s lips as she cried out in pain, digging her forehead into the ground as she gript onto her stomach which was wet and warm with fresh blood.

“You know you can’t get away,” he sighed, with heavy shots of breath spitting out from his lips, “so why don’t you just give up?”

Katerina steadied herself, pressing all of her weight onto her elbows and puffing out snaps of breath as she bowed her head to the floor. Still with the ragged breathing erupting from her lips, she lugged her aching body further along the floor, hardly able to move her legs as her knees brushed against the ground. A low snicker rang through the dense air, “I guess you have other plans.” The man chuckled – with a blast of heavy breath to each break in the sentence.