Prolog
Prolog
“You made sure she cannot see us?” the man with the deep raspy voice asked the other man, who answered in a rather squeaky and insecure tone: “Why do you have to ask me this every single time we are down here? She is blindfolded, for heavens´ sake! How could she?” Still, he sounded a bit nervous. That bastard! I hated him, that slimy sun of a bitch. I hated both, these fucking cowards.
“All right then,” the first man said excitedly, and I heard him walk around the room in the place that was my dungeon. The usual smell of mold and foul water was cut off by a nasty smelling paste they rubbed under my nose every time they knocked me out, so I couldn´t smell anything else. I couldn’t smell them. It made me feel slightly nauseous.
I turned my head around, trying to make out where the squeaky man and his friend stood and what they were doing. I couldn´t see anything as my eyes were blindfolded and I couldn´t move because my hands were bound above my head. My feet were bound together and attached to the concrete floor with a heavy chain. I hated the concrete floor and walls. I hated being bound, half naked, wearing only some panties and a sports bra. Being at the mercy of these two fuckers. My torturers.
At that moment I felt a painful sting in my back just above my left shoulder blade. I tried not to make a sound as the pain spread up to my left shoulder. It felt hot, the heat spreading through my back as, I knew, they were stabbing me with a small dagger-like knife. Suddenly it stopped as the knife was wrenched out of my skin. A clanking sound indicated that they had put the knife back on some sort of table where they kept their tools with which they tortured me. And they had just begun.
More pain erupted now on my neck, hot and almost unbearable. I felt warm liquid slide down my spine, I was bleeding. They cut me with one of their special knifes. It felt like my neck and upper back were on fire as they put more cuts into my skin, slicing it open here and there, making various deeper and some lighter cuts all over. White specks danced in front of my inner eye as I was blindfolded and couldn´t see a thing. The two men stopped with their actions, probably admiring their work on me.
I could hear them talking but was unable to distinguish what they were saying, as I was panting from coping with the pain and taking in deep breaths. As the pain subsided slightly, I was able to hear one of the men walking around, stopping in front of me. A big hand gripped my throat and started squeezing. The sound of my blood flow intensified in my ear, knocking out any other sounds. I tried to stay still, not to make a sound or move at all. I kept telling myself that they did not want to kill me… yet. They still had plans with me, they needed me.
The man holding my throat started to squeeze harder, making a dissatisfied sound. He was probably furious that I didn´t try to wriggle out of his grab or tried to scream. I knew that wouldn´t help me at all. I got slapped in the left side of my face. Taking me by surprise I jerked to the right with my head. Instinctively I wanted to inhale but was unable to do so as my throat was being crushed by that massive hand.
My body started to panic, and it took a lot of hard trained self-control to keep my body and mind calm. The tight hold on my throat was released suddenly and I took a heavy punch to my stomach. I inhaled deeply, white spots erupting in front of my eyes again. Stars danced in front of my inner eyes, pain spread through my throat and my windpipe felt sore as I inhaled from being squeezed hard.
“Stop messing around! That’s no use to us. Besides, she cannot talk if you crush her windpipe or if u damage her voice cords permanently! And if she is dead, she can´t talk either!” the strained voice of Mr. small and nervous voice said. So it was that prick with that raspy voice that had punched me.
“But we need to get something out of that bitch!” the man said furiously. “We have been at it for month now and didn´t get anything out of her. If we want to know if she has what we think she does, we should be a bit more aggressive. Maybe we should cut out that neat little tattoo of hers on her wrist…or that one on her shoulder.”
I could imagine him smirking at me, trying to get a reaction from my mostly immobile body. I restrained myself from panicking, willing myself to keep my breathing steady. But inwardly I felt anxious. That would fucking hurt a lot and meant some serious damage to me.
Because these tattoos weren’t tattoos at all, but I was not going to tell them that, surely. I never told them anything. And I would keep it that way. I knew it infuriated them, but I kept my mother’s last words in mind and the promise I gave her. Never, ever to tell anybody anything about me, my “tattoos”, my heritage, nothing. To tell who I was.
Panicking on the inside I hoped these men were done for today, or was it tonight? I lost sight of days and times since I was in the dark cell with no windows for a very long time. How long it was, I didn´t know. It felt like a lifetime.
Instead of releasing me I heard the smaller voice say to his partner: “You Idiot! These modern type tattoos mean nothing except that her mother was an irresponsible bitch and this girl here an idiot trying to fit in with the cool kids. No need for the mess this would cause,” he answered impatiently. I could feel his anxiety not getting anywhere with me.
“Don’t call me an idiot, you little excuse of a man! Or you will get to taste some of that same medicine this little bitch here got from us!” his party shot back furiously.
“I´m sorry, alright?” the squeaky voice sounded a bit scared, I thought. “Let´s just get a move on. She´ll brake at some point and will sing like a bird when she does,” he sounded more curtain now.
I didn’t know how much more I could take before he was right, and I would break. But I couldn’t. It would get me into serious danger. I had to be strong. I had to keep my mouth shut. ‘Don’t say a word’ I told myself over and over again. Wanting to faint I said a silent prayer to anyone who would care and listen for this torture to be over. But salvation didn’t come.
Instead, I was punched into my left side, and I felt a rip break. My breath was knocked out of me by the force of the blow. At the same time something sharp tore the skin apart at my outer right thigh. Claws were drawn from top to bottom, slashing my leg open. It burned and I wanted to scream out loud. I swallowed my scream and grunted instead, unable to keep totally silent.
“You know what, I think this little slut doesn’t feel that kind of pain. Maybe we should get deeper into her, at places we haven’t been yet” dangerous lust accompanied those words from the man with that raspy voice. Dread filled my every cell and this time I couldn’t keep my heart from racing.
“Hear that, she can feel something, she is afraid! I can hear her heart beating rapidly. Maybe we should have our go with her little cunt and then she might be talkative,” he went on with sickening relish in his voice. I thought I might puke.
“No!” the small voice of his friend echoed through the dungeon, sounding as terrified as I felt. “We don’t do that!” He sounded as if he might get sick as well. “Besides, the boss will rip our intestines out if we touch her this way. You know what he said!” he tried to reason. As those fuckers discussed my future torture, blood was flowing down my leg and a puddle gathered at my feet.
“Whatever,” the other man than gave in with a strained voice. “Get the injection ready!” he ordered, getting more and more frustrated with me. But after he said these words, I really started to panic. Not these injections again. Please, anything but those! But I was unable to do anything being tied up and blindfolded.
I felt a stab to my lower back as a sharp tool was yanked through my skin. The pain was unbearable, letting my blood flow rush through my ears, white spots spread over my nonexistent eyesight, and I felt like I was in a tunnel with blinding white light. Involuntarily my body wanted to scream out loud, but my throat throbbed with soreness and hurt as I strained my vocal cords. Only a deep and raspy grunt escaped my lips.
Again and again, they stabbed me in the back, ribs and shoulders. Uncountable times they cut open my skin. Blood ran down my back and sides down to my legs. The stabs weren´t deep enough to cause real damage, but it hurt none the less. A lot.
It was getting harder to stay conscious. I felt my mind fading away and darkness started to to constrict me. No word escaped my lips the entire time the men tortured me. The sounds of their heavy breathing sounded muffled in my ears, as I felt a small sting from a needle in my left shoulder and I felt like falling, the dense darkness suffocating me, closing in on me. Still, I kept on falling…falling…falling…
