This chapter is going to very dark, please recall the story's trigger warnings.
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XVI. The massive chains of fear

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It took Zelena almost half an hour to reach the farm on foot. She walked deliberately slowly and, on top of that, got lost in the alleys lined with well-kept residential houses before she managed to find her way back to the main road from where she knew the way. The icy storm had subsided but was far from dying down, so she was once again drenched in snow and, despite the coat Regina had given her, shivered miserably as she climbed the steps to the porch. The hallway was all dark, what didn't really help her calming down. She would not escape Freek's rage this day, as she didn't all the years before, since she had been a little girl. She just wanted to run upstairs to her bedroom and barricade herself in, but suddenly he blocked her way. The light coming from the kitchen told her that he had been waiting for her there. Her heart was in her boots.

"Where have you been?" he threateningly demanded to know.

Her hands began to tremble. "Outside... walking."

"Don't lie to me, it's been snowing for hours. Were you with that pretty boy who made such a fuss over you at the Rabbit Hole? Did you spread your legs for him?"

"Robin?" escaped her in irritation. "I don't even know where he lives."

Unexpectedly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her hard against the wall. His breath smelled sickeningly of alcohol. "What's that coat? Tell me right now where you've been! I fed you after your mother died and you ungrateful thing just can't obey."

She flinched as he lashed out, raising her arms protectively in front of her face. "In the stable, alone! I had no idea that in this weather Regina would..." The heel of his hand hit her with full force, causing her lip to split open. She tasted her own warm blood.

"Regina? Are you already calling that snobby woman by her first name? Didn't I make it clear to you to stay away from that one!"

"She just wanted to check on her mare," she replied, startled. "Please let me go!"

"And you were waiting there for her? I know you don't care about horses." Again he threatened her with his fist. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing, I swear!"

Freek just snorted angrily and pointed down the hall. When she didn't start moving fast enough, he pushed her forward, causing her to stumble and fall to the floor. The steady throbbing in her chest flared, and she lay gasping for breath. By her long thick curls he pulled her back to her feet. She bit her already bleeding lip to stifle a gasp of pain that would only make him angrier.

"I'll teach you a lesson, Zelena!" By the wrist he dragged her with him into the parlor and pushed her upper body down on the wooden dining table. "Take off your sweater. The bra too."

Completely intimidated, she complied, hearing him undo his belt. She pressed her mouth against the back of her own hand to muffle her cries of pain as long as the leather hit her bare back. Again and again. Her skin was soon sore and burning like fire, but the fact that he stopped striking her with his blows after a sheer eternity didn't mean it was over.

"Don't you ever lie to me again, do you hear me?" he hissed icily.

Zelena was already half out of it and barely reacted as he pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees. With one hand he grabbed her by the neck, otherwise her legs would have given way by now. She had no strength left to cry out as he thrusted roughly into her. All these years, no one had ever heard her. With a hoarse moan, he finally came and she felt a warm liquid run down the inside of her thighs when he pulled himself out of her. Her knees gave in under her weight as soon as he let go of her, and she sank to the floorboard beside the table. A wave of pain ran through her sore back, causing her to whimper in agony. Unable to move, she curled into a fetal position.

He nudged her with his foot. "Get up, you're bleeding all over."

Then she heard his footsteps on the stairs and a few moments later water rushed. She failed to scramble to her feet. Half-naked and shivering, she remained lying on the cold floor. The sound of the shower died away and she was only aware of her own rapid breaths before the darkness finally fell over her.

She was standing at the edge of a deep snow-capped field. Her feet were bare and her body was covered only by a long white nightgown. Behind her, an evil voice screamed her name, whereupon she blindly rushed forward. The bitter cold of the snow pricked her bare soles like a thousand thin needles. The gloomy rows of trees that lined the field seemed to approach menacingly. Then she left the open area behind and the first houses of the town appeared in front of her. Not a single soul was on the streets. She kept running while snow began to fall around her. The echo of heavy footsteps followed her. The buildings were little more than similar shadows with dark windows. She only paused when she arrived at the familiar square in front of the town hall. Even there was deep darkness that seemed to literally swallow the surroundings. This one moment of hesitation allowed her chaser to catch up. In the swirling snow, she only managed to make out an indistinct figure as she cast a hurried glance behind her. It was as if the darkness itself was relentlessly hunting her. Hastily, she pushed open the main entrance to the town hall and rushed inside the building. Ahead of her was a hallway, which she crossed to hurry along the corridor that led to the mayor's office. There was no end to this one. New doors kept appearing on either side of her, but every one she jiggled in her growing desperation was locked. The pursuer came closer and closer. Then finally, when she was barely able to stay on her feet, she reached the end. She slipped through the door in front of her only a blink of an eye before the shapeless menacing blackness reached her. Out of breath, she stood in a hall that did not resemble the mayor's office at all. Something caused the doorway to quake, through which she had just stepped. Her own gasps and footsteps echoed from the depths of the strange hall as she walked across the gleaming golden floor, past half-height columns filled with a billowing poison-green substance, neither gas nor liquid. Beyond them, a few steps led to a raised level at the end of the hall. Heavy emerald brocade curtains covered the walls. She fixed on the marble beneath her feet, which formed a star-shaped mosaic in the center of which lay a lifeless figure, naked and with twisted limbs. Startled, she recognized her own dead eyes staring into nowhere as she carefully brushed aside the long red curls. Blood poured from under the pale body, which felt ice-cold under her quivering fingertips. At the same moment, the curtain behind it lifted and she looked into a face that seemed strange and at the same time frighteningly familiar. Demonic green shimmering skin, flowed around by a night-black robe, and a soulless gaze devoid of any warmth and kindness met hers. She let out a strangled cry as she realized she was looking into a mirror. The darkness caught up with her, swallowed her up, and the malicious laughter was all she could still make out. It was Freek's voice that let her know there was no escape. Never.

Diffuse brightness filtered through Zelena's eyelids. It took her a moment to realize what had snapped her out of her dark nightmare. Her heart beat violently. Gently she was lifted and carried up the steps to the upper floor. Her father's swaying footsteps sent pain through her body. He laid her prone on her bed with her face turned sideways to the wall. She felt him remove her jeans and panties completely, then cover her up to above the hips. A large hand almost gently brushed her hair aside before she heard Freek leave the room again. After a short time, during which the only sound was her own breathing, he returned. The bed creaked as he sat with her and began cleaning her wounds. Zelena pressed her face into the pillow, the pain bringing tears to her eyes.

"Hold still," he said harshly.

After bandaging the deep welts, he left her alone again. It took her a while before she managed to move her head to stop staring at the faded floral wallpaper. Dull wintry daylight fell in through the window. She was supposed to get up and prepare breakfast, but she was too weak. Her back burned agonizingly with every movement, despite the bandages, and she felt a dull throbbing in her abdomen. It took her a while to put the incidents of the evening together.

All at once she saw Regina's face in her mind, the expressive night-dark eyes examining her intently. There was something familiar she had felt in her presence, but she couldn't place it. She remembered the cell phone in the pocket of her hoodie, which must still be downstairs on the chair, where she had left it. Maybe her father hadn't found it yet. Inside the yellowish discolored silicone case was a small sticky note with the pin code to turn on the device. When she retrieved it, she could call Regina and hear her voice. As quickly as it had come up, she dismissed the thought. No matter how much she wanted to believe that the mayor had been truly concerned, she would never understand the mess of her life. How could she? She had already learned to live with the pain and humiliation many years ago, but on that day a part of her just wanted to die. In her mind, she imagined that she would see her mother again then. That her loving arms would embrace her, hold her and protect her, just like when she had been a little child. Far too soon, this carefree time had come to an end. When her father had decided to leave Boston and return to Kansas to the old farm of his own childhood, it had been the beginning of that dark, violent time. Every year, on the anniversary of Melia's death, he took out all his frustrations on his daughter. It would never be any different. She was bound to this messed up life and with each hit her soul died a little more. Until just like in her dream, nothing more than an empty dead corpse would remain.

The morning had progressed by the time she awoke from her fitful doze and finally managed to struggle out of bed. In the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, which had long ago stopped to frighten her. Her lip was crusted with blood and swollen, the surrounding skin all blue. It didn't happen often that he lost his control and punched her in the face. Normally, he was very careful not to cause any significant injuries. At the moment, however, that was the least of her worries, since she couldn't even manage to get dressed, let alone go to work. Exhausted, she fell onto her bed again. At some point she heard Freek enter the room. He put something on the bedside table.

"You need to eat something," his raspy voice came from beside her.

With effort, she turned to him. His gaze was feverish and expressionless, as it always was when his intoxication from the night before wore off, but the very fact that he had brought her food let her know that he was sorry. Not wanting to upset him, she straightened up with her face contorted in pain and choked down the slice of white bread. Just the smell of the peanut butter caused her to feel nauseous. The tea was already cold, but she was so thirsty that she almost emptied it in one go. Her father sat by her bedside the whole time, quietly watching her.

"You'd better stay in the house today," he finally stated as she sank back into the pillow.

It was not a suggestion. At least he was aware that she could barely move and was in no condition to do any work at all.

"I have a shift at the bar tonight," she replied. Hook had of course written down his contact information for her, but she was not allowed to use the phone in the house without her father's permission. She couldn't use the cell phone Regina had given her, not even for that. Otherwise, he would notice it and take it away from her. He would hurt her again.

Freek gave an unwilling grumble. "You're going to call in sick."

She nodded silently.