Modelling Promise

~6~

Africa

Charles stand in front of me, eyes cold and menacing. "Now strip," he barks.

I suck in a breath, but I don't move...I cant.

"Feisty little fuck aint she?" Scarface says.

"For now," Charles retorts.

He steps closer to me and clears his throat. In a flash, he slams his fist into my face. The pain is blinding, sending jolts of sparks across my face. I fall backwards as my heart beats faster than its design spec should allow. Tears spring from my eyes and my nose feels like it has caved in on itself.

Everything around me looks as distorted as the reflection in a fun house mirror. Blood oozes from my nose dripping down my face like a water hose has just been turned on. The iron rich taste enters my mouth as I squeeze the bridge of my nose.

I go to tip my head back but stop abruptly. The warning my mum gave me after, Gavin, my next-door neighbour, dropped a plank of wood in my face while we were trying to build a tree house like Kevin from Home Alone fills my mind.

Don't tip your head back, pumpkin. You will end up chocking on your blood.

"Do you want some more or are you ready to listen?" Zip asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Still clutching my nose, I stand up on wobbly legs. Another man enters the room with a tripod in one hand and a camera in the other. He begins setting it up as I pull the baby doll outfit over my head.

Scarface brushes past me as he moves on to untying Malachis feet. I step back, repulsed by his touch.

"Right, Africa. Get on the bed and stay on all fours," Charles demands.

I knew exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth. My breathing comes out in ragged breaths as I break and beg them to let me go.

Sweat starts to coat my skin as my body violently trembles. So much so, I can barely remain on all fours.

Blood hits the bed like a dripping tap. I swipe my hand across my nose, clearing as much of it off my face as I can.

The cameraman takes Scarfaces spot in front of the group pointing his camera at my most intimate area. Recognition fills my mind, but for the life of me I cant place him. He gives me an encouraging smile as if he is a videographer and I am a willing participant. With a wink, he crouches lower watching me through his lens.

Charles turns to the men. 'Clean her up so we can get on with this."

AJ walks into the bathroom and returns with a wet towel. I scrunch my face in disgust, the scent of wet dog comes to mind. He roughly places it on my face with a smirk.

"Ouch!" I grumble, but he carries on as if he never heard.

Now, Charles says. Because you cant follow instructions, you will be our performer today. So be prepared because there is no lubricant for what I have in mind.

Fear claws at every part of my being, knowing that all of these men in this room are probably going to rape me.

"Malachi, you better rip her a new arsehole," Charles orders.

"Zip, I don't think that I can do that," Malachi says.

Charles head tips to the left scrutinising him with curiosity. She's really done a number on you hasnt she? What is it about her that has made you lose your mind?

"No...I...I'm sorry, Zip. Zip, please forgive me. I dont know what I was thinking.""

The bed rocks as Malachi positions himself behind me. The pain is immeasurable to anything I have ever experienced.

When they finally put an end to my torture, I collapse on the bed covered in blood and faeces.

Charles lowers himself to my eye level. "Africa, if you ever try some shit like that again I will end your life."

The finality of his words shocks me to my core. Thankfully Charles and the other men leave the room without a second look. Thats when I allow myself to release all of the anger, frustration and pain that Im feeling in the form of tears.

Malachi rests his hand on my back in a placating gesture. I can barely move, but I turn to look at him eyes ablaze. Dont touch me! I scream.

"Africa, Im sorry. You know I had no choice."

"I don't care what choice you had, you fucking raped me."

He sucks in a sharp breath as if he has just been slapped and positions himself out of my line of sight. I hear him crying softly, but right now, I just dont give a fuck. He violated me without an ounce of mercy and no matter how much control he had over the situation I still have to rest some blame at his feet.

I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes, the room is bathed in darkness; except for the soft glow coming from the moon. Everything that has happened rushes back to the fore along with the excruciating pain littering my body.

Malachi must have cleaned me up because I no longer smell faeces and the small blanket I covered him with, now covers me.

I scan the room for Malachi. He is sat by the bathroom with his back to me. A constellation of raised welts crisscross his back reminding me of the image of whipped Peter. My hand flies up to my mouth with horrified shock.

"Malachi, are you okay?"

He turns to look at me and although Im still disappointed that he didnt put up more of a fight, my humanity takes centre stage.

"Come and sit on the bed," I say, knowing he must be freezing sitting on that concrete floor.

His eyes fill with hope as he searches my face for uncertainty. "Are you sure?"

I nod and watch as he pulls himself off the floor. He still has an erection, but he places both hands in front of it.

"Africa, I really am sorry."

I rest my hand on his arm. I know. Just give me some time Malachi.

"Listen Africa, even if I lose my life, Im going to get you out of here. Maybe then you will be able to forgive me."

I sigh and rest my head on the bed. Instead of my usual self-introspection on reasons why AJ hasnt pursued me like I wish he would, I look up at the cracked ceiling searching my memories for the day that I had met that cameraman.

A muffled cry escapes me when I realise what they have in store for me.