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Tears of Fate

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16 year old, Anastasia Fate tries to escape the man that holds her hostage against her will. Can she survive? Can she escape the grasp of evil or will she face a fate worse than death itself?

Thriller / Action
Chris Nicholson
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Tears of Fate

Pain seared through my bruised and battered body. The chains binding me to the chair dug into my already tender flesh, causing me an agony that few teenagers could bear. Tears pricked my eyes, blurring my vision, while dizzying black spots danced across what I could make of the dimly lit basement. Frigid air stole through a broken window and caused chills to crawl up my spine, my naked body shivering in the wintry air. I could smell the distinct coppery aroma of blood—my blood— infusing with the musky air. I desperately needed warmth, heat. Sparks of a lamely lit fire that once ruled against the cold had died down to a faint, cold glint of dying hope. The chill seeped into my very pores until numbness claimed me. I knew death wouldn't be long in coming but I took advantage of the numbness; death seemed almost easier to deal with than the pain.

I looked up as I heard movement that made my skin crawl. He was back. I heard his footsteps as he descended the creaky staircase that led to where I stayed, trapped. Fear seized me as my heart raced, causing pain to shoot through me. I grimaced to keep myself from moaning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his silhouette against the beam of light that fell around him. I glimpsed a flash of his ominous cerulean eyes. When he reached the cellar, his form disappeared, and all I could tell of him was the sound of his footsteps. It scared me even more.

Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm myself, which wasn't easy. I felt sudden warmth against my cold, bare shoulders. I quickly realized it was his hands. The warmth of them felt good, but his touch made me shudder. I was uncertain of what he was going to do, and my body grew tense at the imaginings.

“Why are you so scared of me, my love?” He asked as he started massaging my shoulders.

Suppressing a sigh of regretted pleasure, I tried to speak. “I’m not your love!” I hoped it came out a sneer, but I was so dehydrated that it was that of a whisper. He tightened his grip on my neck, making me bite my tongue and apologize for my disrespect.

“You’re my love! You will love me or perish!” His voice was like ice as he slowly released his grip around my tender neck.

Terror pulsed through my body as if it was electricity, making me tremble beneath his hands.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he said warmly. “All is well as long as you do as I say.”

I felt his hands move downward toward my naked chest as he began caressing my breasts.

I struggled beneath his touch trying to get him off me. This just made the situation worse. He released me, and then stepped in front of me. I glimpsed lust and anger behind his sapphire eyes. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black jeans, his chest masculine and tanned. He wore a sinister grin that made my skin crawl.

I couldn't fight and I couldn't escape, my body was too sore, the chains too tight. The only thing I could do was obey or be beaten.

Why in reality does the bad guy almost always win? Where was my prince? My rescuer?

Nothing I could say and nothing I could do could help me, so I squeezed my eyes shut as he began caressing my breasts and twisting my nipples. He got on top of me and started kissing me, sticking his serpentine tongue into my mouth.

He stopped and I felt the warmth of his hands disappear. Confusion filled me, and I opened my eyes to see his face inches from mine. Anger was etched crossed his features and I wasn't sure why I glimpsed rage in his dark eyes.

I almost jumped when his brazen, anger-filled voice echoed around me, “Don’t just sit there! You better please me or I’ll cut you up into little pieces!”

My eyes grew wide with fear as I began kissing him. He disgusted me, but I knew him too well. An idea popped into my head, without thinking I bit down on his tongue making him yelp, recoiling away with fury on his face.

“You bit--” he began to say, but stopped as a trickle of crimson dripped from his mouth.

A laugh escaped my arid lips; he narrowed his rage-filled eyes as he slapped me. Tears sprung from my eyes as my cheek began to throb.

"How dare you hit a girl!” I said pissed off.

He responded by slapping me again, this time harder.

I cried out that time as I watched him unzip his jeans and pull out his erect dick.

He stalked up to me and forcefully struck me against the chest with his belt causing a scream to escape my bloodstained lips. He unchained me and shoved me onto the floor, smiling devilishly. The fall hurt, but as I tried to retaliate, I felt him begin to drag me toward the wall where he forced me into an upright position as he shackled my arms above my head to the wall. I tried to wiggle away, but to no avail. I cringed and wished that I could shrink away and leave this hell. I could feel the sting of tears and the wetness of them as he began penetrating me, vengefully. His hands caressed my breasts more as he continued to rape my exhausted body. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to escape to my happy place, but in a world of violation and torture, a place of happiness was nonexistent.

After several hours, and repeated violations, he simply left me there. Fresh wounds and lacerations ached and throbbed, blood oozed from the many cuts covering my body. I laid there in the corner with chains binding my scarred body; red-tinted tears soaked my skin.

A sly expression flashed across my features as I pulled a shiny key from the pocket of my tattered jeans; the key that I was able to steal from him as I braved through his abuse. Pain seared through me as I clumsily unlocked the padlock that was binding the chains to me; they fell to the floor in a mound.

I tried getting up, but instead fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. I saw that the window was open; I noticed it earlier when the frigid December wind blew through it. Relief tried to claim me, but I knew I wasn't free just yet.

I crawled as quickly and quietly as I could trying to ignore the agonizing pain that seared through me every time I moved. The cellar was littered with boxes, and when I stopped and peered, I saw that some contained clothing. I dragged out a jacket, painfully pulling it on. I knew it was a cold winter night, and I was going to need it. I was just inches away from the broken window when I heard his footsteps above me. I froze, cocked my head, and listened. The footsteps were moving away from the cellar door; adrenaline kicked in just in time to help me reach the window.

I peered out into the frozen night. It was snowing heavily, coating the earth in a blanket of white.

Good, I thought. The snow will hide my trail.

I ducked out into the cold when suddenly something grabbed my foot. I kicked, struggled, and looked behind me to see his cold eyes. I grabbed a handful of snow and chucked it at his face, but it didn't faze him. I kicked at him, but he wouldn't let go. My free hand blindly searched for anything. Feeling around I found a rock I grabbed it and hurled it out his face. He yelped and let go of my foot.

When he let go I started running as far as my aching legs would carry me.

I ran into the direction of the woods knowing if he dared follow me, I’d be hidden in the camouflage of the trees and snow. My bare feet felt cold against the ground as I ran, but never did I stop. I just kept running.

Finally, I saw lights and knew I was close to town. When I reached the lights, shock claimed me. He was standing before me with a gun in his hand. His eye was bruised from where I hit him with the rock.

How could he have caught up to me? I thought to myself, bewildered.

I looked up and noticed I wasn't in town but I was back at the house. I never got away.

I heard a loud noise and it felt like I was falling…falling…falling…

I shot upward painfully I looked around, in shock as I realized I was still bound in chains.

“NOOOO!” I screamed.

“Shut up!” I heard the man’s deep voice.

“It isn't fair! It isn't fair! I escaped!” I screamed hysterically.

“Shut up!” he said again.

Although reality set in and his harsh voice made me flinch, my hysteria escalated and tears cascaded down my bruised cheeks.

“Calm down,” he said his voice less harsh.

“No,” I said firmly.

“Calm down now!”

“No leave me alone you stupid pervert!” I screamed.

I winced as he slapped me.

“Better?” he asked.

I stared at him. “No I’m not better,” I scoffed. “I’m covered in bruises, scratches, lacerations, I’m tied to a fucking chair, I've been raped, beaten, mistreated, and I’m tired, dehydrated, hungry, and cold! No, goddammit, I’m not better!”

He just gawked at me.

“What is your problem? You’re a perverted pompous pig! Didn't your mother ever teach you any respect?”

He just continued to gawk at me, his mouth agape.

“Stop staring at me!” I scoffed, getting seriously pissed.

“No one has ever talked to me like that before…” was all he said.

“Well it’s about time someone did!”

He approached me, and I asked, “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

I watched him with wide eyes as he unchained me from the chair.

After the chains fell around me in a heap, I rubbed my wrists before slapping him.

Rage flared up on his face and I saw that he wanted to hit me back, but he stifled his angry and simply said, “I guess I deserved that.”

“Go,” he said. “Before I change my mind.”

After I stared at him for a moment, I pivoted on my heels and walked up the stairs.

I heard laughter; I turned around to see the glint of metal.

“Did you really think I’d just let you go?” He said, laughing wickedly.

I started running. I didn't stop. Before I reached the cellar door, he grabbed me and flung me down the stairs.

I let out a groan as I plummeted to the floor. Before I could move, he was on top of me, pinning both my arms above my head. I could feel one of his hands unbuckling his jeans, pulling his dick free. Using his hips, he pushed my legs aside and thrust painfully into me. I twisted in his arms, trying to free mine. I managed to get one arm loose and twisted to scratch his face. He gave a brief yelp and pulled out. I thought I had finally managed to get free, but he simply flipped me over and positioned himself on the top of me.

I tried to roll over but he had me pinned down. I kicked and hit him multiply times, but it didn't faze him. I finally pretended to give in to him. I began kissing his ear and then bit down on his earlobe. He yelled out, but I didn't let go even when the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

His screams escalated as I jerked my head back and tore off his earlobe; blood rained everywhere but his screams never stopped. While he cupped his ear, I staggered up the stairs.

I left the basement then darted straight to the front door. Half-limping and half-running, I flung open the door and ran out into the icy world that lay beyond.

Soon he was sprinting behind me and I tried to run faster but my feet met ice and soon I found myself falling. I landed on my butt, wishing I had clothing on, and then scampered to my feet. I lost my footing twice before regaining my balance. He caught my arm and he too slipped and fell pulling me down with him. I fell on top of him.

It was as if it was in slow motion as we watched the knife fly out of his hand and into the air. We fumbled, both trying to beat the other to it. I pelted him upside the head with rocks as I tried to retrieve the knife that was just a few feet from me. I was just inches from grabbing it when he grabbed my feet and pulled himself over top of me, we fumbled more so this time than before.

The knife glistened as pretty as could be in the moonlight as my fingertips brushed against the handle, but somehow he snatched it away from me with that same sinister grin plastered on his face.

I rolled away from him, still wishing I had clothes on. He pinned me down again, this time with the blade of the knife just inches above my head. I held back his arm. Trying to get him off me, I kicked him in the nuts. He screamed like a girl and the knife fell to the ground. As he held his crotch and rocked back and forth with a sour expression, I snatched up the knife.

I tackled him to the ground and I held the knife above him. Our eyes met and my hand quivered. I'd never killed a person before, and the fear I had in me just minutes ago was in his eyes. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him. He must have noticed my hesitation because unexpectedly I was on my back and he had the knife in his hand.

The coldness was starting to numb my bare skin as it began to snow heavier. He played me. He suckered me into not killing him. Ooh, that did it!

I kneed him so hard between the legs he almost yelled a high E. This time I kneed him again, I think he did hit a high E or was it an F? It didn't matter, nonetheless. I snatched the knife in midair before it even had time to hit the ground. Without giving myself time to chicken out, I stabbed him in the heart and twisted the blade. Looking away from his face, I got up and walked away, glad that I’d never see him again.

December 14th 2012


16-year-old Anastasia Fate survived a brutal kidnapping and helped police find wanted serial killer and rapist, Dezmond Scarlatti. She escaped Scarlatti two days ago during the terrible blizzard we know too well. Police say that Anastasia is a brave, young woman and they’re glad that she is okay.

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