**trigger warning**
please read with caution, if you are sensitive to material including rape and extreme violence please skip this chapter. if you choose to skip the chapter you may carry on to the next chapter, you will only miss the details...
Preston's POV
Darkness. It's all around me, swallowing me whole. I'm floating through it, consumed by the darkness.
Light. It burns my eyes when they finally open again. My brain is dizzy but I'm slowly being dragged back into reality by the light.
Pain. I'm starting to wish I stayed in the darkness. Something tight is digging into my wrists. I'm not sure where it comes from but I hear a voice. "Oh good, you're awake." Then I begin to feel the pain.
Fear. I am terrified. I'm in a room that I can't quite make out tied to a bed with a familiar voice. My heart is pounding as I struggle against whatever has me tied down and I know that for the first time in my life I'm experiencing true fear.
As my eyes adjust I begin to see the things around me. Lachlan's room. That's where I am. He enters the room, closing and locking the door behind him. A flash of silver catches my eyes and I see the knife in his hands.
"I didn't want to have to do this to you Preston," he says with a small smirk. In one hand he holds a large kitchen knife and in the other a rag or something.
I open my mouth and let out the biggest scream I can but as soon as it starts it's muffled by whatever cloth he was holding. A searing pain splits across my stomach and I look up to see him licking a few drops of blood off his knife.
"I didn't want to have to use this on you but you aren't cooperating. It's a shame really. Now because I'm good to you I will take the rag out, but only if you don't scream." He leans over my face, fingers bunching the cloth in my mouth. "I want to hear what you sound like," he whispers as he slowly pulls out the rag. He pulls away, unzipping his pants slowly. I take this opportunity.
"HELPHELPHELPHELP!" I yell it as many times as I can before I feel a slice across my upper arm. And another. He finishes with another four gashes in my arm, one for every time I yelled. The rag is back in my mouth.
"Goddammit Preston don't make me do this." He looks almost shaken but his condescending smile returns just as quick as it faded. Tears are streaming down my face as he starts his torture. Everytime I don't do as he says I earn another cut from his knife. This is hell.
I'm screaming and crying and kicking as the ropes from his headboard dig into my wrists. Every fiber in my body is in panic and he is enjoying it. I'll never forget the sick twisted smile on his face. He loves it, he's eating it up. He never stopped talking.
"You deserve this"
"I'm only trying to help you"
"Would anybody else do this for you"
"I never wanted to hurt you"
"You caused this"
"I'm going to make you strong again"
"You are pathetic"
"You are weak"
"You are nothing"
It carries on forever. Time loses it's meaning as he uses me up. I stopped fighting, I stopped screaming. I'm just laying and taking it. There's nothing I can do. He won. I am nothing.
I am nothing.
Eventually I'm slipping back out of reality. It's too much. I can't handle it. Once again, everything is dark. I succumbed to the nothingness.
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