Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Every movement from them makes the chains rattle.
This isn’t some dingy basement. Electric lights shine brightly, illuminating everything.
The cell itself is empty. There’s no table with tools and weapons. No buckets. It’s just concrete and steel with a drain in the center of the floor.
As my gaze creeps along the wall, I see vents and shadows moving behind the grids. Only then do I hear the scratching and squeaking.
A shiver rushes down my spine, and my attention returns to the men who once made me afraid to breathe too loudly. Now they can’t see me. They can’t touch me.
The tables have turned, and I’m the one with the power.
Anton shifts, trying to rub his nose against his bicep, his shoulders straining worse than Georgi’s did. I take in the blood coating his mouth, chin, throat, and chest.
Boris hangs with his head lowered, then he lifts it slightly, as if he can sense someone is watching him.
Something merciless slithers through me as the memories creep out of the darkest corners of my soul. Years of pain, humiliation, helplessness, and ungodly terror flash through my mind.
Staring at the bastards, they don’t look like the monsters who broke me.
No, they look much smaller. Weaker.
The scratching sounds from the vents draw my attention again, followed by the slow drip of water somewhere above us. The incessant pattern is enough to drive any sound mind insane.
I step closer to the glass, and placing my hand against it, a smile curves my lips because for once, they’re the ones trapped.
They’re the ones who will be tortured and killed.
I hear something slide open, then Georgi asks, “Which of these would you like to use?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see a wide drawer filled with all kinds of tools and instruments. There’s also a metal bat, a fireplace poker with a hook at the end, and a bullwhip that catches my eye for a couple of seconds.
Turning around to face Georgi, I struggle to make up my mind and ask, “Can I try all three of these to test them out?”
A smile spreads over Georgi’s face. “Of course, and if none of them do it for you, I can show you other ways to make the fuckers suffer.”
Other ways.
So many ideas rush through my mind. I used to spend so much time daydreaming about ways to get back at Boris and Anton.
Then one pops into my mind, and I ask, “Can you get me scopolamine?”
Georgi tilts his head, his expression tender as he looks at me. “What’s that, angelche moe ?”
“The drug I injected into you.” I make quotation marks with my fingers. “Truth serum.” Not wanting Georgi to misunderstand, I explain, “I want to make them suffer the way you did so I can mess with their minds.”
“Give me the name again,” Georgi says as he pulls his phone out. I spell it and make sure it’s right, then watch as he asks Augusto if he has access to any.
He tucks his phone back in his pocket, then asks, “What would you like to do while we wait?”
I move closer to the drawer and pick up the baseball bat.
“Have you ever used one?” he asks. I shake my head, to which he says, “Come, I’ll teach you.”
When one of the guards opens the heavy door to the cell, I notice he doesn’t look at me at all.
My heartbeat speeds up when I step inside, the sharp smell of bleach hits me in the face.
Both Boris and Anton lift their heads, and when they see me, they glare at me like they’ve always done.
For a moment, fear slithers through me, but then I feel Georgi’s big hand on my back, and it makes me lift my chin.
Anton spits at me, but it falls a few inches short of my feet. “Fucking whore.”
I react before I can think, and swinging the bat as hard as I can at his side, I let out a scream that’s filled with years of potent anger, humiliation, and disgust.
After the first hit, I lose my mind. I sound feral, tears wetting my cheeks, and sobs choking my growls.
Suddenly, an arm comes around me, and I’m hauled away from the evil monster.
As I struggle and strain to get loose, I’m carried out of the cell, and the door slams shut.
“Shhh…It’s okay. Calm down for me, baby.”
Cool hands frame my feverish face, and then my sight focuses on Georgi, and I begin to suck in deep breaths as I slowly ease out of the rage that consumed me.
“There you go.”
He pulls the bat from my grip, and I notice the blood on it.
“Sorry for spoiling your fun, but we don’t want to kill Anton too quickly. Okay?”
I nod, and wanting to see the damage I’ve done, I rush to the window. Anton is hanging limply, pain etched in deep lines across his face.