Iggy pov

Now, before I continue, let me remind you that I am blind, and cannot see anything that is going on. Along with being blind, I am also incredibly sensitive to the touch. It is a way my body adapted to being blind. My hearing and sense of touch is ten times better than the rest of the flock, and us birdkids already have two times better than regular kids.

Now, with that said, I'll continue.

I screamed. I was terrified. So I did what I thought was best, though it wasn't necessarily the smartest.

The man had not done anything with my wings. Yeah, they were pinned beneath me, but I could still get them out.

So that's what I did. I quickly got my wings out and thrust them up at the man, hitting his shoulders and knocking him back.

I quickly struggled roughly, trying to break my hands free from the handcuffs pinning my hands above me.

However, I underestimated the man. He was stronger than I thought and got up immediately after he was knocked down, still holding the iron.

I heard myself scream again before I really felt the pain. As soon as the man stood up, he had pushed the brand onto my stomach, right above my belly button and under my rib cage.

I couldn't believe the pain that it caused. I felt like I was dying, though I feel that dying would have been less painful.

The brand scorched through several layers of skin, leaving a blackened incredibly painful wound. I began sobbing, unable to take the agonizing pain.

My chest heaved hard from the pain, and I found the world sounding fuzzy.

After several seconds, which felt like an eternity, the man pulled the brand away, setting it down. He laughed down at my frantic, hysterical form.

I just lay there, trembling and sobbing. The man didn't seem to care about the pain he had inflicted on me, walking away and coming back several minutes later.

He set down several objects next to me, though I didn't pay any attention to them, already beginning to drift into unconsciousness. The last thing I was aware of was the man smearing a cream over the brand on me and putting a bandage over it.

When I woke up, the first thing I was aware of was the sharp pain coming from my stomach. Then the events of the previous day came rushing back to me, and I couldn't help but start crying again.

I wanted Fang. I was in pain, stuck in a small cage again next to what felt like a bed, and was being treated like an animal by a large man who clearly had a sadistic side.

I wanted Fang. Just hearing his voice would have made the difference, but he was I don't know how far away.

So I cried.

You can't blame me. Anyone else would have done the same thing. Though the man didn't like it.

I don't like referring to him as "The man" Because everything that he has done to me, he can't be human. So from now on, I will refer to him as Monster.

Monster didn't like it. Apparently he was sleeping, and I woke him up. He snarled and ripped me out of the cage, throwing me onto the bed.

To say I was scared would be an understatement. I was terrified!

Monster was quiet, and that was only all the more terrifying. I tried to get away, him having put me on my stomach and my weight on my newly burned brand, causing me to cry out in agony.

He sat on my back, holding me down and grabbing my wings, spreading them out.

I was already panicking and struggling form his heavy weight added onto the pressure on my burn, and the fact that I could tell he was about to do something to my wings only made me panic and struggle more.

I clenched my hands into fists behind my back, tears streaking down my cheeks. "Please! Don't mess with them! I'm sorry!"

This only made Monster laugh. He held one of my wings down with his knee while he spread my other. I heard a soft snip and knew what he was about to do.

I began sobbing hard. "NO!" I heard more snips as Monster clipped the primary feathers of my wing, rendering me flightless. He did the same with my other wing before beginning to pull them all the way together.

I shrieked, hearing the pop as my wings slid out of their sockets then went limp with a blinding pain, no pun intended.

I felt broken, going limp. I couldn't see, now I couldn't fly, Monster had turned me over and was ripping the last of my clothes off. I knew things could never get better. He took off his clothes and a feeling of dread overwhelmed me. He spread my legs and thrust into me.

I gave up. The pain was awful. He never prepped me or used any lubricant, and it felt as though I was being sawed in half, a fire ripping between my legs. It went on for what felt like an eternity before I finally just passed out, blood and Monster's liquids flowing down the inside of my thighs.