Hello, everyone.
Welcome to my story!
I will be striving to update this often. I currently have up to chapter ten on my laptop and have been averaging one chapter a day. I have no intention of abandoning anyone who reads this, and I fully intend to follow this all the way through.
Let me know what you think. :]
Prologue
I taste the blood before I feel the pain from the strike. It pools slowly in my mouth as I stare unblinkingly into the cold eyes of my assailant. I know the tears in my eyes betray my brave face, but I refuse to give this man the satisfaction of watching them fall. He smirks.
"Hurt, didn't it?" he says arrogantly. I glare before spitting the blood from my mouth onto his black leather shoes. He grimaces before nodding at the two other men flanking me. Each puts a hand on my shoulders and force me down to my knees. A hand grips my chin roughly, and my face is pulled upwards to stare back into the face of my captor. He grins before hitting me across the face again. My cheek smarts, and I can practically feel the blood vessels breaking and bruising. I don't turn my face back up to the man, instead keeping my eyes trained on his muddled shoes. Hours earlier, I was able to see my reflection in them. I smirk to myself while relishing the fact it was I who ruined such perfectly nice shoes.
"That'll never polish out," I whisper. The air in the room tenses.
"What did you say?" asks the man after a brief silence. I turn my face back up to his and lock my eyes with his.
"I said that'll never polish out. It's a shame really; those were very nice shoes," I say clearly before giving him a large smile. His lips turn up in a sneer.
"Your face is black and blue. It's a shame really; you had such a pretty face," he snarls, mocking me. My smile doesn't slip.
"My face will heal. You'll never get those shoes clean again, though," I reply brightly. His nostrils flare in anger. The blow to my face he delivers is much stronger this time and knocks me sideways onto the grimy floor. Before I have the time to lift myself back up, a bloodied shoe makes contact with my stomach. I clutch my abdomen and curl up as small as I can. I cough and taste more blood. I can't draw enough air into my lungs to spit it up, so I'm resigned to allow the blood to slowly dribble from my mouth onto the floor. A hand grips into my hair and yanks me back onto my feet. I shriek and claw at the hand holding me. He lets go of my hair and grabs onto my wrist. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins bending it backwards. I feel the bones creak and try to wrench it away from the man, but it only causes more pain and ominous creaking. A single tear finally escapes and makes a journey down my face as the pain forces me back onto my knees.
"Ah, there's a tear. Something finally hurts, does it? Perhaps I'll let go if you beg. Go on, beg!" He says loudly with a hint of laughter in his voice. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, refusing to beg for anything from this man. He bends my wrist back more. I know it's going to snap any moment now. I feel the man's warm, putrid breath on my face and know he's mere inches from me. "Oh, don't be proud; just beg and it'll stop. It'll all stop." I'm not stupid enough to believe him.
"Go to Hell!" I scream, forcing my eyes back open to look at him. The pressure on my wrist stops momentarily as he stares down at me, clearly taken aback. He quickly pulls himself back together and smirks at me.
"Oh, trust me, I will. However, I won't be going for a long, long time. You, however, will be spending the rest of your mortal life there." His voice is deadly soft, and he allows his words to sink in before snapping my wrist back the rest of the way. I scream, the pain in my wrist too intense for me to remain silent. He shoves my arm back towards me and steps away. I cradle my broken wrist and suddenly become hyper-aware of the pain in the rest of my body. I'm not granted much time to focus on my pain before the man strikes me at my temple. I crumple, and my head hits the concrete floor. Darkness swims in front of my eyes, and I know I'm about to be blessed by unconsciousness. The final thing I register before succumbing to the darkness are those once attractive shoes walking away from me with a two word directive to the other two men in the room:
"Break her."