The Academy: Uncaged

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Graphic descriptions of physical assault, sexual assault, implied rape.

Some of the following content is unsuitable for some readers. Reader discretion is advised. If you cannot read content with such tags and trigger warnings, please skip the chapter. Future chapters will summarize the events of this chapter in a less graphic detail.

A/N//: Hello everyone! Welcome to the first chapter of The Academy: Uncaged. I made the decision to split this into two books. I hope you enjoy it. PLEASE advise the above warnings. This chapter is going to be pretty graphic. There will be chunks of italics, dictating Amelia’s thoughts as she’ll be pretty indisposed.

Although it happened all of thirty seconds before, the deadbolt sliding shut was still ringing through Amelia’s ears, loud and heavy with finality. Her mind was racing, fight or flight instincts fighting one another for dominance. Sweat formed on her palms as anxiety coursed through her. Even if he hadn’t said it explicitly, he’d already made it clear what his intentions were. The stinging from her cheek and eye was telling enough. He was there to hurt her.

She didn’t have many options. Erik stood in front of the door. There was no way that she was going to get through him. She could barricade herself in her bedroom, but what would that achieve if she didn’t have the phone Christopher left her on hand. The device was sitting innocently on the kitchen counter, charging. If she went into the kitchen, she risked getting trapped in there. Her priority had to be getting out of that fucking front door.

Erik took one step toward her, and she took one step back into the apartment. But her one step was quickly out-balanced by two more of his. He meant business. Momentarily, her fight instinct decided to rear its big, fat, ugly head, and Amelia quickly jammed her knee toward Erik’s crotch. She hit her mark, and she heard Erik groan. She didn’t wait to see what happened. Amelia immediately took off into the living room, eyes frantically searching for something to defend herself with. All she had was a basket of laundry. Fuck. Why did she have to clean the living room at the most inopportune time?

“You’re going to regret that, Mourning Dove,” Erik gritted out as soon as he had gotten over the initial pain of her nutshot.

She heard him thunder after her, and suddenly, she was being yanked to the ground by her ankle. A scream died in her throat as all of her breath was stolen from her lungs as she crashed down to the carpet.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m fucked.

Her lungs stung as they struggled to get air within them. Her movements were sluggish and faltering as her head swam a little bit, but she couldn’t stop here. She’d be dead meat otherwise. Amelia looked back at him and gave him a swift, harsh kick to his shoulder. With a grunt of pain, Erik released Amelia’s ankle.

She took that as her opportunity to scramble to her feet. Her heart was beating in her chest a mile a minute. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her body was on autopilot as she stumbled toward the kitchen, toward the cell phone that Christopher left for her. But before she could even make it past the entrance of the kitchen, she felt Erik’s hand dig into her hair. He pulled roughly on it, dragging Amelia to the ground. She cried out in pain.

“Yes, that’s what I want to hear,” he said from behind her. “C’mon. Sing for me, birdie.”

“Fuck off!” she roared back.

Her hands shot up to his and clawed at his skin, but he didn’t budge. Amelia opened her mouth to scream for help, but she felt his hand slap down over her mouth, muffling her cries. He didn’t let go as he dragged her toward the center of the apartment where Amelia saw that he had discarded his bag.

“You know, you only make this harder on yourself. If you would just- stop- struggling!”

Erik tossed her down onto the ground, chest down. He sat on the center of her back, his knees straddling either side of her with her arms pinned beneath him. As soon as his hand left her mouth, Amelia let out another scream. But the walls of the Academy were thick very specifically to respect people’s privacy. She doubted that there was any way that her neighbors would hear her. But it seemed that Erik wasn’t going to take any chances. He reached into the laundry basket nearby and pulled out a pair of her lacy underwear. He used his fingers to pry open Amelia’s mouth before shoving the fabric inside.

“Fucking shut up already!” he growled into her ear, his hand still clamped over her mouth to prevent her from pushing the panties out.

In return, Amelia gave a good thrash of her body, but she couldn’t budge the man above her. He dug into his bag and pulled out a roll of duct tape. The sight of it made Amelia’s eyes grow wide. She thrashed harder now, her feet pounding on the floor. She heard him tear off a piece of the tape and he managed to wrestle it onto her face so that it covered her mouth completely.

From there on out, her mind went into overdrive. She needed to get out of here. She couldn’t be stuck here with him, a person who had only ever done things to hurt her before. Amelia felt as though she was in the middle of a waking nightmare. Erik had her pinned to the ground. She was at his mercy, especially when he forced her wrists into a pair of cold, metal handcuffs. She had nothing to fend him off with, and the adrenaline that had been fueling her until this point was running out only to be replaced with fear.

“You are quite the little spitfire, aren’t you,” he said.

And from this close, Amelia could smell the stale stench of alcohol on him. Of course he was drunk. The only times Amelia had ever encountered Erik was when he was drunk or had a glass of alcohol in his hand. Why should this time be any different than before? Why shouldn’t his patterns come back to haunt her. She remembered starkly the fear in Moira’s eyes when she’d met her, the way he was drunk then. Moira had been afraid of him and his alcoholism then, and Amelia understood how. She wouldn’t show that same fear Moira did.

“You know, I’ve been waiting a long time until he left just so I could get you alone, birdie,” he said, his clamming fingers running down the side of her neck.

She watched him with wide eyes as he stared down at her. From this close, she could see just how dilated his pupils were. She could see the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks. He looked an absolute mess, and at this point, she was sure she looked like one, too.

“Now that he’s left you all alone, I get to play with you however I want to,” he said. “I can get my revenge on you both for humiliating me time and time again.”

Amelia’s brain short circuited. Of course he wouldn’t want anything from her aside from sex. This was his revenge against her and Chris. He’d do with her body as he pleased because he knew both she and Chris would agonize over it. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She couldn’t. She was so much stronger than that. Moira had told her before about Erik. He’d gotten so physical with her. He’d hurt her physically and sexually. But Amelia could get through this. She hadn’t gone through a statutory rape trial just for nothing. She could do this. Preparing herself mentally was all that she could do to keep herself sane.

What can he do to me? What is he capable of?

She felt Erik lift himself off of her, and Amelia let out a slightly relieved breath. But it was naïve to feel such relief. Erik hauled her to her feet and dragged her toward the red room. Amelia felt dread pool in her stomach. The red rooms were always the most sound-proofed place of all. No one wanted to listen in on their neighbor’s sex lives, so if she had any chance at all of getting away, her window was dwindling.

He’s going to hurt me.

Amelia jerked against his grasp, but he managed to keep a tight hold on her, even opting to hoist her up over his shoulder. A firm smack landed on her ass, and she kicked at his chest in surprise. He had no right to touch her like that, and she had no intention of letting go that easily. But soon enough, he had her in the red room. He shut and locked the door behind him - probably as a way to slow her down.

“Hmm,” he said as Amelia struggled in his arms. “What to do. What to do... We could use the bed.”

He’s going to humiliate and abuse me.

Amelia shook her head vehemently, making a noise of protest. There was no way in hell she’d let him do that to her.

Fuck that. No.

“What? You don’t like the bed? I thought it was pretty vanilla myself,” he replied.

That was not the message she had intended for him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She was screwed both figuratively and literally. She kicked at his chest again, but that only resulted in another, much harsher smack on her asscheek. Her next thought rang clear as day through her head.

He’s going to rape me.

“Someone’s excited to get started,” he said with a chuckle. “How about St. Andrew’s Cross?”

Again, Amelia shook her head, but this time he trumped her vote with his own. “I think that’s a good idea, don’t you think? Have you nice and spread open. Easy access.”

He walked across the room with her over his shoulder, and once he was before the large structure, he set her down, pushing her body flush against it. He reached for the waist strap first and fixed her tightly over her abdomen. He then fought her ankles into the straps there. Despite her best efforts, though, he managed to completely overtake her. And when he went for her wrists, he again had the upper hand. He forced each of her wrists above her head into the straps there. Her heart sank to its lowest point. This was it. There was no getting out of this. She was strapped to St. Andrew’s Cross with no chances of escape.

She looked at Erik with wild eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, Mourning Dove,” he said, his thumb stroking her cheek.

She ripped face away from his touch, only to have him raise his hand and slap her harshly across the face. Her head spun as she tried to recover. She tried to focus on his words, but she found it so difficult.

I’m not afraid of you. I won’t show you my fear.

“Look. We can do this the easy way where you just give in, or you can struggle. Both ways are good enough for me.”

I won’t ever stop fighting you.

“I’ll give you a moment to think on that,” he said.

He walked away only to return with a dark strip of fabric. He tied it around her eyes, forcing her into darkness. Amelia listened as he walked from the room and shut the door. Only then did she release a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She probably had all of five minutes, if not less, before he returned, and in that time, Amelia had to do everything in her power to make sure she got through this.

I am a survivor. I can’t let this destroy me.

Erik seemed hellbent on his delusional plan for revenge. And with that, she knew he’d take everything he could out on her. She would have to be in this for the long haul. She couldn’t let herself get lost in her thoughts, in the horrible feelings she was about to experience.

If I do, I’ll have failed.

And at the end of this all, she knew she would have some issues to sort through. She knew that this wasn’t something that she could just get over. There would be an aftermath to deal with, but she was going to be strong through it all. For him.

Chris will blame himself, without a doubt. And I can’t let him do that. It’s not his fault. I need to be strong to prove that I am and will be okay.

She heard the door of the red room open and close again. She heard the lock shift into place. She didn’t understand why he bothered with it. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was at his mercy until he let her go or he...

He could very possibly kill me.

No! She couldn’t think like that. As far as she knew, that was not on the table now nor would it ever be. She wasn’t going to let those negative thoughts in.

“Someone’s waiting so patiently for me,” Erik said with a click of his tongue. “I should do you a favor and get you undressed.”

She heard him rummage through the drawers that Christopher had in the room, and eventually it sounded as if he came out victorious. He gave a little hum of contentment, which nearly made Amelia gag.

Keep your calm, Amelia. You can do this.

She heard the sound of metal sliding across metal, and she gleaned what exactly he’d found. Scissors. She forced her expression to remain neutral. She heard his step closer, and she felt his hand fall upon her hip. A shiver ran down her spine, and it definitely wasn’t the good kind of shiver that Christopher could get out of her. This shiver made her feel absolutely disgusting.

“We need to get rid of these clothes,” he said.

I don’t like these clothes anyway.

“A good submissive doesn’t wear a t-shirt and jeans. A good submissive wears what her Dominant wants her to.”

And a good Dominant wouldn’t degrade and abuse their submissive, but that’s none of my business.

“Too bad you don’t get a choice but to listen to your Dominant,” he said as he brought the scissors to her shirt. And with the first slice of fabric, he continued with, “I’m your Dominant now.”

You aren’t my dominant. You won’t ever be my dominant.

“He didn’t use you to your fullest potential. He’s weak, and I think I can remedy your view of a good dominant,” he said as he sheared her shirt to shreds.

Don’t you ever disrespect Christopher.

After her shirt was in shambles and her upper body was only left in her bra, he moved onto her jeans. He managed to cut those away with ease. And when he was done, she felt the cool tip of the scissors trace up and down her goosebump covered body.

“You’re too beautiful for him,” he said. She heard the scissors thud against a nearby table, and then they were replaced with his hands. His skin felt cold and clammy against her skin. Fuck, she hated it.

Don’t fucking touch me.

“I want to hear you sing, Amelia,” Erik hummed. “Don’t keep those beautiful noises from me.”

It was all she could do to keep herself from whimpering in misery and satisfying his sick, twisted desires. But luckily, his hands left her body soon enough without inflicting any damage. Instead, he ripped the tape from her mouth and pulled the panties from between her lips.

Before she could stop herself, she spit in what she hoped was his face. The slight gasp of surprise and the gentle splat told her she’d hit her mark.

“Don’t you ever disrespect him. And don’t you dare fucking touch me,” she seethed through clenched teeth.

There was a chuckle. It wasn’t the same kind as Christopher’s, where she knew she was about to get punished. This was something so much darker and much more sinister.

“I think you forgot who’s in charge,” Erik said. “Sing to me, Amelia.”

And suddenly, a white hot, burning pain erupted above her breast. Amelia couldn’t help the scream that tore from her throat as Erik bit down. She couldn’t help the subsequent sob. The pain of it all was more than she anticipated, and she’d hadn’t been prepared.

Damn it, I gave him what he wanted.

She felt Erik’s tongue lap over the wound on her breast, and she shuddered in disgust. She didn’t want his sick form of aftercare for her wounds. She didn’t want him anywhere near her.

“Get the fuck away from me,” she rasped through the sobs that she was so desperately trying to quash.

“I’ll do what I want to you,” he said. “Are you ready for a long night, Mourning Dove?”

⤝⤞⤝⤞⤝⤞⤝⤞

Amelia’s head felt heavy, as if it were stuffed with layers of cotton. Her eyes were sore from crying. Her body was sore. Her arms felt like dead weights above her, strapped to the braces of the St. Andrew’s Cross in the red room. Her legs had long since been unstrapped, but they felt like jello as she tried to support herself on them.

The area between her legs felt like hell. After the countless hours of what she had endured, anyone would have felt the same way that she had. Amelia looked desperately at the door of the red room, her eyes heavy. She wanted to sleep, but more than anything she wanted-

Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked her knight in shining armor. His eyes were wide with horror, and his hair was disheveled. He strode into the room half-way, the door shutting behind him.

Chris.

“Get the fuck away from her!” he yelled.

“Christopher,” she mumbled, her lips lifting into the faintest of smiles. “You came back for me.”

There was a laugh, deep and ominous that sounded from her left. Amelia’s eyes lifted, only to find Erik, leaning against the wall. She looked back to where Christopher stood, only to find that he wasn’t there at all. She felt the world shatter beneath her feet. It had all just been an exhaustion-driven dream. The dehydration and lack of food must have been getting to her. She was alone, and Christopher wasn’t coming to rescue her. He wouldn’t be coming for another few days.

I can’t blame him. Why would he want me, anyway? After this? I’m used and broken.

“I can promise you he isn’t coming. I’d be disappointed if he did. I quite like you like this,” Erik said as he took a drag off of his cigarette.

Her stomach dropped at the stench of the smoke. She recalled vividly one of the stories Moira had told her after she’d escaped him. She had been used as his ashtray many times, and she had the scars to prove it.

“I like it when you’re at my mercy. You’ve got a lovely black eye, hickies, my bite marks.”

His hand fluttered down to her unprotected sex. He cupped her with his open palm. “Completely exposed and at my mercy.”

“Fuck you,” she said, but her words didn’t hold nearly as much venom as they had before.

Erik took one last drag off of his cigarette before he did exactly as Amelia had expected him to. He snubbed it out on the smooth skin just beneath her breast along her ribs. The pain that flared across her skin was unimaginable. The acrid scent of scorched flesh mixed with tobacco burned at her nostrils as she screamed through the pain.

“Yes. Just like that,” he cooed. “Sing for me, Mourning Dove. You have the most beautiful voice.”

The press of the cigarette left her ribs, but the throbbing pain still remained. She lifted her gaze to look at him.

“Unfortunately, you missed a call from him, so I’ll have to cut my concert short,” he said. He lifted the familiar smartphone and waved it before her face. The screen lit up, showing her that it was half past eleven in the morning.

Amelia’s eyes lit up at the device. If she called him back, maybe she could get a message to him. Maybe she could-

“I know what you’re thinking,” Erik said. “You tell him what’s going on or you get him to come home early, I’ll kill him as soon as he gets through the door. There are plenty of knives at my disposal in the kitchen.”

A chill spread over her. That was the first threat on a life that she’d heard from Erik. Over the countless hours she’d been around him, not once had he threatened her life. But now... Now she was threatening Christopher.

I have to protect him.

“I won’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

He tapped her face twice. “Good girl.”

Amelia swallowed and watched as she pulled up Christopher’s contact information. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. She heard the tone dial tone and the phone began to ring. Erik put it on speaker. The call connected.

“Hey ’Melia,” Chris said, his voice sounding like some unattainable dream. Tears immediately began to form in Amelia’s eyes.

“Hey Chris,” she said softly, which earned her a stern glare from Erik.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. Tired.”

“Tired?”

“Yeah, I woke up late. I was up all night last night,” she said, and then as an afterthought, added, “Cleaning.”

“Are you okay? You sound a little shaky, love,” he said.

She nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Yeah. I’m good. I just haven’t eaten yet this morning, that’s all.”

There was a sigh through the phone. “’Melia, you need to take care of yourself.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you’ll go grab something to eat.”

“I will,” she lied, and that little lie made her stomach turn sour. She felt as if she was going to puke. “Promise.”

“And go take a warm bath. That will get your stamina back up, love,” he added.

“Yes, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. I’m planning on leaving before dawn. I hope to be home before you wake up.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” she said, the tiniest of smiles gracing her lips. The tears that had prickled in her eyes before finally trickled out, running tracks down her cheeks. She couldn’t help the sob that came out.

“Amelia? What’s wrong?” Christopher asked.

She glanced at Erik who was giving her a murderous glare. She swallowed and said, “I just miss you. That’s all.”

“I miss you, too. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. See you soon. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Three slow claps sounded beside her, one right after the other. Clap, clap, clap.

“How fucking cute,” Erik said with a sneer. “The two of you should just confess your undying love for each other already. But then again, my big brother isn’t very good at that whole loving thing.”

Amelia shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

“Then tell me, little birdie. Has he ever said it to you? Those three words that every Hallmark movie makes out to be something magical?”

She had to force herself not to shake her head, no. Instead, she didn’t answer him. She looked at him fiercely instead.

No, he hasn’t told me he loves me...

Amelia wished he would have said those three words. They were said so much, but to her, not enough. She craved it, she really did. But with Christopher, she didn’t need it. He’d been there for her every step of the way. Once they had come to their realization together, she’d inherently known. She’s known all along that he loved her just by his actions. He was caring and tender and sweet. So sure, he hadn’t said that he loved her.

But he’s done everything in his power to show me that he does.

“Yes. He has,” she said with a matter of fact tone and an air of finality.

She heard the slap before she actually felt it. And considering how numb she felt all over, that was to be expected. Her head whipped to the side and finally, the sting from the slap hit her nerve endings. Compared to what she’d already endured thus far, however, it was nothing.

“I swear, even though your singing voice is beautiful, you really are one of the most irritating creatures I have ever met,” he said.

Amelia let his words roll off of her. She didn’t listen to them. She’d read into his words too many times already. She’d allowed herself to cry in the middle of the night as she questioned why this was happening to her of all people. But right now, she had her mental strength on her side. Right now, she was going to be victorious.

“I think I need to leave some messages for my darling brother before I go,” he said.

Erik took a step away from her to rummage through another one of Christopher’s drawers. When he returned, he held up a black sharpie. Amelia already knew what was coming. She felt her heartbeat racing once again. But it wasn’t the same as when the phone was calling Chris. No. This was so much worse. She could feel the anxiety and PTSD from that day in the Lion’s class coming in full swing. She hated what had been written on her body then, and she could only imagine what Erik would have to say. She could only imagine the words that he’d scrawl across her body as messages to Christopher.

He worked slowly, probably to make sure that his writing was clear. She didn’t care. She couldn’t watch as he defaced her skin. The stench of sharpie filtered up to her nose. She’d probably never feel the same way about smell ever again. Before, it had been difficult on her, but now... Now the smell made her want to vomit.

And when he was done, he capped the marker with a flourish. “My handwriting isn’t the best, but I think they look pretty good,” he said. “I think you should get them tattooed.”

He chuckled at his own sick joke. Amelia stared past him, refusing to acknowledge him, refusing to acknowledge the raw anxiety that was clawing at it. It made her lungs and throat feel tight, as if someone had their hand on her throat. Her eyes burned with the urge to cry. She felt, once again, utterly humiliated and as if she were less than a person.

Erik walked across the room and picked up a device from the table. She hadn’t seen him bring it into the room, and she knew it didn’t belong here. It was Christopher’s bear trimmer.

“I always did say that I thought you’d look good with short hair,” Erik said as he flipped the switch on the razor.

She furrowed her brows in confusion more a moment before it dawned on her. Yet another thing he could do to her, something she hadn’t mentally prepared for.

He can shave my hair.

Erik, true to her speculations, grabbed a handful of Amelia’s hair, pulling it taught. She couldn’t move her head lest she feel more unbearable pain. The razor came down upon her head, and she felt strands of her hair fall across her body haphazardly. She was numb. She couldn’t process what was happening. Everything else he had done to her, the bruises, the scars - they’d eventually fade with time. She could hide them beneath clothing until she was ready to face them. But this. This she had to wear like some sort of twisted badge of honor until her hair grew back. She’d have to look at herself in the mirror everyday and see what he’d done to her for months to come. She’d never be able to escape him.

This time, her tears fell hot and heavy down her cheeks. But even though the tears fell, she didn’t make a sound. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her sing. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

More and more strands fell down from her head, and all the wall, Amelia cried and stared stoically ahead. She was a silent, sentient being, and nothing more. She would not feel emotion, not for him to just tear her down further.

And when he was done, when he finally switched off the razor, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “It’s a little patchy, but you’ll grow into it,” he said, giving her cheek a too-rough pat.

He then reached up and undid the cuffs on her wrist and waist. Amelia realized that it hadn’t been her legs that had been supporting her all the time. It had been the straps from the St Andrew’s Cross. As soon as they were no longer there to support her, she collapsed to the ground in a gooey heap. And beneath her were all of the mutilated remnants of her hair.

“Looks like the bird finally broke,” he said as he walked toward the door. He opened it, and turned to face her fixing with a long, hard stare. “But then again, what is a bird with no wings? Give Chris my regards.”

I’m sorry Chris. I don’t know if I’ll actually get through this...

And then he was gone, shutting the door softly behind him. Amelia almost wished he had slammed it. She almost wished he had been just a bit more vulgar in the end to make her have a strong hatred for him as opposed to this unyielding fear.

She sat there for too long. It was probably hours before she could bring herself to move from the spot that Erik had dumped her in. Numb tears rolled down her cheeks in waves. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She didn’t know where to go from here... But the first thing she had to do was move.

She climbed to her feet, albeit unsteadily. She managed to drag herself from the red room into hers and Christopher’s bedroom. She fumbled as she opened one of his drawers and pulled out a t-shirt that smelled like him. And with shaking limbs, she pulled it over her bruised, damaged body. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t taint her bedroom with the thoughts of everything that had happened over the course of the last twenty-four hours. She couldn’t do that to the last safe space that their apartment had.

Amelia stumbled out of their room and made her way to the living room door. It took several attempts with shaking fingers for her to lock the door once more, and with that, she had some minute and miniscule shred of comfort. She collapsed on the couch in the living room. She pulled her knees to her chest and tugged a blanket from the back of the couch over her shoulders. She didn’t sleep. No, sleep wouldn’t come. Sleep was no longer safe, not without Chris there. How would she ever sleep safely without him around again?

She didn’t know how long she sat there, staring at the wall blankly. Her body functions just didn’t work anymore. She didn’t feel hunger and exhaustion or even the urge to pee. She was just existing there.

And eventually, she heard the rattle of keys in the door. And even though she didn’t fully process what was happening, her lifeless grey eyes flickered there. The door opened to reveal the tall, handsome blond man she’d been dreaming of since Erik had crashed into her life that weekend. He stood there with a big bouquet of flowers and a box of doughnuts in his hand. His face was filled with the biggest, most handsome smile. And he was singing. Singing.

“Oh, Amelia, I’m down on my knees. I’m begging you please... to... come... home...” he said, his words trailing off as soon as his eyes landed on her shell of a frame. His mouth opened and closed, seemingly at a loss for words.

And eventually, he dropped the contents in his hands and simply asked in the most heart wrenchingly broken tone, “Amelia?”

A/N//: Alright guys! See you in January 2022 with more updates!