Hello readers of Fanfiction :)

Seven years prior to this date, I used Fanfiction to share my writing with people. Gonna' give it a shot again.

So! I'm a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy it.

[Elsa X Anna] [NON-INCEST] AU

Rated M+ for violence, rape, drugs, dark themes and lemons in later chapters

To put it short: Elsa is a teenage girl, trapped in a sick cycle of abuse with her step-father. Anna is the new girl on the block in Arendelle. Will Elsa finally open up to someone for the first time in her life, or will Elsa finally crumble from it all?

(THIS IS AN UPDATED + EDITED VERSION OF THE PROLOGUE.)

Prologue

In a fit of pain and anger, the divine, blonde youth slammed the door to her bedroom where she'd entered. She stood still for a moment, staring at the messed sheets on her bed. That bed reminded her of so many foul memories. Memories of 'him' and what he'd do to her when he so pleased. Her fists were balled and shaking, eyes wetting in the corners. "Don't cry, Elsa," she muttered to herself. "Don't cry..."

Her knees felt weak from the polka-dotted bruising on her calves and thighs. Had she not been so proud, she'd have buckled and fallen to the ground in an emotional mess. But she knew that tears wouldn't save her from this living hell. What was the point in crying?

She raised her shaking fists to eye-level and gently relaxed her grip, flexing her fingertips as she studied the various patterns of burns and thin, red slits up her forearms. The aftermath of what she'd endured that day was bad. All she could consider was how she'd hide it.

"Elsa, I didn't hear that door slam, did I?" came the voice of a muffled, older male from behind her bedroom door. She knew this man to be her step-father Duke. Her guardian and 'keeper'. She'd been living with Duke since her mother died three years prior... that is if 'living' is what you'd call it.

"Elsa, did you hear me?" the voice repeated.

Her heart skipped a beat. She'd zoned out for a moment and forgot Duke had been standing there beyond the door. She was trying desperately to suppress the pain from what she'd just endured for the last hour. He claimed it was 'love' and 'affection', but she knew better. There was nothing 'loving' about it. "Yes, I'm sorry, sir. I heard you," she calmly replied with a dry gulp.

"Open the door, please, dear," said the cynical male.

Why did she slam that God damned door on the way in? Why did she let her pain and frustration show? She knew now he'd make her pay for it. She had no choice but to let him in. Earlier that day he'd summoned her to his living-quarter, outraged that his 'daughter' had failed to attend school the day before. The girl could barely move herself from the bed! But it didn't matter. Any excuse was good enough for Duke to punish her. But today, specifically, he'd made a mess of her...

Elsa mustered the strength to open her bedroom door. When she did, she was greeted with a haunting, cruel smirk from her step father. The elder male was wearing a black night-gown, concealing his old, tired body. His grey hair had started to recede and a finely trimmed mustache framed his, thin, wide mouth. All the while, she felt his eyes hungrily looking her up and down. She felt like a slab of meat in the presence of a starving wolf.

Duke pushed past her, closing the door. He paced her bedroom, studying the messed sheets on her bed. "Do you want to play a game?" he asked, arching his brows. The question was more rhetorical than you'd think. Elsa didn't really have a choice...

"What game would you like to play, sir?" she asked quietly.

"I quite enjoy father-daughter games!" he said enthusiastically, turning to face her. "It makes me so happy when you truly accept me as your father. And I truly love acting as such to you."

"I know you do," she muttered assertively, staring straight through him.

"Come, come. Sit on the bed," Duke said, ushering her over to the mattress.

Like a soulless vessel, Elsa complied and sat where she was directed, on the edge of the bed. When she looked up, she found herself staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror across the room. She hated having that mirror opposite her bed. But Duke put it there on purpose so that she couldn't 'escape' the reality. She was lost for a moment, staring at herself. Her hair was starting to fall out from the beautiful braid she'd crafted that morning.

She watched the reflection of the older man climbing onto the bed, shedding his night gown like a snake-skin as he did. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. 'He wont take long... just calm down. Don't think about it,' she told herself. She felt his lips connect with the skin on her neck, sending shudders down her spine. The dry kisses repeated in dabs to her shoulder, then to her throat. The bed started to rock gently to a rhythm as Duke gently pulled at his cock.

"I-I love you, Elsa," he mumbled against the skin on her throat.

She died a little inside, forcing the words, "I love you too..." It killed her every time she'd say it. She'd said it every day for three years. That's how long this had been going on for...

She could tell from his breathlessness and the quickening rhythm of the rocking bed that he'd soon force her to pleasure him.

"Ah. Good girl," the elder hummed. "Now fucking show me how much you love me," he said.

Duke roughly grabbed the young woman, forcing her back-first on the bed, into a suitable position to straddle her waist. He paid no respect to the elegant, white gown she was wearing. He pulled and reefed at it until he'd exposed her breasts and nether region.

"Tell me how much you want it," he groaned, adjusting himself atop of her. Before she could answer he'd force himself inside her, groaning deeply as his entire cock was consumed.

She winced in pain. He'd hurt her, but of course he didn't care. A part of her soul was burning away like an ember. "I want what you want, sir," she lied, biting her lip. She was used to this routine. The words were always the same and always empty...

Elsa laid on her back, fighting the urge to cry as the elder vigorously withdrew and trusted his manhood inside her repeatedly. She felt blood draw from her lip from biting too hard. She hated herself for allowing this to happen and she hated him more for doing it to her. But she didn't know what else to do... if she said 'no', he'd make her feel pain – the cuts, the bruises, you name it. If she tried to tell anyone about it, they would never believe her. She had tried once already with the neighbours. Mr and Mrs Whimsgate were their names. Elsa had escaped through her bedroom window and made break for it from the second floor. But when she'd told them what was happening, they wouldn't believe a word of it. Everyone was so hung up on the windowed man story. They would all say, 'poor Duke – he lost his beloved wife to cancer'. It probably didn't help that Duke was running Arendelle's charity events to raise funds for the cancer foundation. So the night Elsa had told Mr and Mrs Whimsgate about her abusive stepfather, they bitterly told her that 'lying is wrong' before returning her home to him. That night would have been the most painful night she'd endured since losing her mother... she could not walk for almost a week, and the burns and lashes were so bad that Duke had kept her home from school out of fear someone would see the extent of the damage he'd inflicted to her body...

She mulled over those memories, flinching with every thrust that Duke made. She stared at that mirror... staring at the reflection of her rocking body. She didn't even feel human...

It was wrong...

But there was nothing she could do.

'It'll be over soon, Elsa,' she told herself in thought. 'Just think about the good thoughts... don't think about the pain, or what he's doing. And for the love of God, don't cry in front of him. He doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve you...'

This room was her prison.

This mansion at the end of Weselton Street...

:) Hope this has people interested in reading!