Yay! Finally, the last chapter! We can put this sick and twisted story to bed…and then create and continue more.
All three men could see it in her face that she was broken. She walked around the house with her head down and she only spoke when she was spoken to. Unless she was cleaning the house or doing whatever work the guys told her to do she was sitting in her room. Her eyes no longer lit up when Roman came to visit her in her room because for the next few weeks after he snapped, their nights together involved violence and tears. Her room was no longer the safe space that they shared together. It got to a point where she was almost numb. Of course, she still felt the pain that was inflicted upon her, but her body no longer reacted as strongly as it had before. Maybe it was a psychological thing. A defense mechanism. To the chagrin of the guys, mostly Roman, her screams were not as loud as they used to be, her sobs didn't shake her body as hard, and any fight she had left had now disappeared. They tried hitting her harder to get the reaction they wanted. Their degrading insults even became more vicious when they yelled at her for doing something as small as missing a speck of dust on a shelf, but she was a constant void of any emotion.
The first to person to be concerned about the slave's behavior was, surprisingly enough, Seth. He was the most cruel and he loved getting a reaction out of the slave so, naturally, he was the first to notice when his abuse towards her no longer left her a shaking, crying mess on the floor. She even stopped tensing up whenever he walked into the room. It was like she was on autopilot and it did not take long for Dean and Roman to notice the change either. She was finally broken. This is what they wanted right? So why did everything about it feel so wrong? It wasn't because they had any sort of sympathy towards the slave. It was just that what was once considered a fun and sadistic pastime now gave them as much of a thrill as abusing a ragdoll. It didn't seem real enough.
She had no emotion when she was beaten.
No emotion when she was raped.
No emotion as she stood in her long and flowing silk, white night gown next to Seth's bed and watched Seth's peaceful sleeping face turn into an eyes-wide expression of panic as she plunged a long, sharp knife into his naked chest. Before he could pull in enough air to shout for help, she had already yanked the knife away from his body and penetrated it again five times more.
She had no emotion when she left his room with nothing but the knife that she entered with. Seth laid there in his bed where there was nothing but him and the sound of his pathetic gurgling as he attempted to breath through the blood that had began to spill from his mouth.
She had no emotion when she quietly walked into Dean's room. He had no patience for her, so she had no patience for him. A quick slit to his throat as he was sleeping. Straight to the point as he had always taught her to be.
She had no emotion as she calmly walked to Roman's room. Just like the other two, he slept peacefully in his bed. His dark hair splayed haphazardly across his pillow. Even now, he looked like something out of a magazine. He had always been beautiful to her, even now when she felt not a single ounce of the love she had for him before. And yet, she couldn't help herself. She cocked her head slightly to side and stared at him for a second longer before she gently ran her fingers through his hair. Her fingers got caught in a tangle and Roman's eyes fluttered open. He was confused at first until his eye adjusted to the darkness of his room and he saw the slave standing above him. He opened his mouth to ask what she was doing in his room, but before he could, she interrupted him.
"I loved you," she said to him before plunging the knife into him with both hands. He was stunned, and she was quick. Over and over she stabbed his body and even still there was no emotion on her face. Long after he was dead, she continued to stab him. She didn't stop until her arms hurt and she felt that she no longer could. She collapsed to the floor and laid there until she was able to catch her breath.
Tomorrow, she thought to herself. I will leave tomorrow. Until then, she decided, she would get up, strip off her now bloody night gown, take a shower and go to sleep in her now true safe space.