Chapter 27 – Bloody Vengeance

“This truth drives me into madness. I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away.” “Whisper by Evanescence

(Content Warning: Mentions of Rape and Violence. Reader discretion is heavily advised)

Kiya

Never have I thought I’d be in this position.

Facing the man–no. The monster who took pleasure in abusing me in the most heinous of ways.

I took the beatings and humiliation. I was taciturn and isolated, yet mended my abandoned heart with the miserable thoughts of being unlovable.

But the day that guard crept into my cell was the beginning of my nightmares. Night after night, he had his way with me. Internally and externally with a free rein of what I idiotically called a body. A soiled temple. Rapid muscle loss didn’t discourage his sinister hands from stealing my autonomy and leaving me broken and bloody.

Brown came in plethoric shades. Russet unveiled the rich, liquid gold in the sunlight. Umber is dark, pulling the viewer into a sea of secrets. However, the guard’s brown eyes came in the shade of evil. Wickedness is

unrivaled to ill–famed autocrats of our horrible world.

My heartbeats thump piercingly in my ears, dissimilarly to the surrounding deafening silence of the corridor. My lungs work through my narrow breaths, desperate for adequate oxygen I failed to deliver. Sweat rolls down

mytes and my muscles tremble–the heightened response to fear.

Fear of being hurt by a rapist.

“It’s been a long time, Halima.” His vile breath assaults my nostrils like a battering ram, triggering nausea in my stomach. “You look great.”

I didn’t answer. I took in the aging appearance of the devil’s son. Muscles in my lips are paralyzed, but my defenses crumble, exposing the dark memories that danced in their freedom.

“No!” I heard the voice. “Please, stop!” The voice of my old self, Halima. The voice of the victim. My

voice. “Leave me alone!”

Therapy is a double–edged sword. It helps to process the turbulent events of one’s life, but it forces the individual to remember the terror like it happened a couple of hours prior. Hurt never disappears–it’s only buried deep in the abyss. It remains and feasters like an infected wound, spreading mercilessly.

I wanted to forget. I needed to forget.

“You never thought to come and greet your old friend? Halima, I’m ashamed of you.”

That smile. That damned smile that haunted my dreams and nightmares as a weak teenager. It lovingly sheltered me in violent chills with reminders of my lowest moments. Lower than what former Alpha Jonathan

could ever make me feel.

“Stop struggling, bitch!” I heard his voice, then the resounding slaps. “You should be grateful that someone wants

1/6

a touch your sorry–looking body.”

How many times have I gazed in a mirror, wishing for a different body? A body untainted and unblemished from innumerable types of hands. A pure body touched by love, not viciousness. How many times have 1 coveted to shed this old skin? How many times have I’ve thought about carving out the areas he touched with a silver blade, so I never have to feel his phantom fingers again?

How Many F*cking Times.

There it was: the familiar pain–agony of being torn apart internally, being held down to a dirty mattress, defenseless and vulnerable. The cool breeze licking my exposed legs and his hard knees forcing my legs apart.

shattering with each cataclysmic thrust.

Screaming.

Begging.

Crying.

Bruising.

blood swam down my legs, no one cared. I was to clean and be unseen. Unheard. The torture that everyone turned the blind eye to will

first sexual experience turned into a tragic story of theft and greed. It’s something I can’t reclaim again. It’s gone forever, belonging to my

regret it?” I asked, my voice emotionless. Red spots flashed before my eyes, breaking through my vision. Growing. Lusting for gore and vengeance. “Do you regret raping

I’ve taught you a lot of things, Halima. You should thank me for giving you the experience of a lifetime.” His fingers curled under my chin, lifting

my head amplified. “I should be grateful that you’ve raped me on and off for three years? That I’ve cried and prayed to the Moon Goddess every night for you to leave me alone? And that I wished I didn’t have to feel the lingering sensations of your…” I swallowed. “And you dare to offer sex?!”

do whatever we wanted to you. I was needy,

My mind blanked

Silence.

as if time stopped. Artemis remains behind the mental wall–protected from the haunting memories. She can’t know. My wolf was tucked

not the little bitch crying in the cobwebs of her cell. I’m not the little

of whoever is unfortunate enough to bear the Zircon Moon

I’m furious.

I want vengeance.

I want blood,

I want death.

my neck pulsated, reaching out to its creator. “Let go of your Inhibitions and feel your anger. Allow for the rage to take over. Who cares if a little blood gets spilled? Those stupid Omegas will clean it up. You had to

He’s right.

part of the good girl for too

to be a monster. I

I smile sweetly at the unnamed guard, my claws lengthening underneath my fingernails. “You don’t have regrets for raping me. I won’t

of passion and unadulterated rage. The color of the unhinged beast that even

f*cking name is

yet satisfying crack of the guard’s broken nose was glorious. I wanted more! My bout of violence took aback him, but I didn’t stop there, I threw another punch, landing again on

feel the power he took from me! His large

painting the

I knocked him down. He threw a punch. I caught it and crushed it. And his arm. I crushed the bones I could get my hands

the guard with dread and shock. Good. That’s how it should be; him cowering as I unleash years‘

sported deep claw marks on his

from

It’s only a matter of time before the f*cker turns into

27 –

down the stairs when we got close

floors of the foyer. A

to break them all

“It’s

an eye. “This is nowhere near the amount of f*cking pain you’ve caused me

bitch!” The guard pathetically screamed. “You think beating me up would get your pathetic virginity back?!”

his greasy brown hair. “Killing you will ensure you’ll never hurt me again.”

makes me unbreakable. Instead of the smell of sweet cake, I smell blood–drenched coriander and it tickles the demons deep

enticed a sweet giggle from my lips. Weak. He’s f*cking weak. My darkest fantasies of delivering this same treatment to others brought life into my tired muscles, pushing me to disfigure the guard more. Nothing will be enough to remove the permanent

silent. He’s dead, perhaps?

I hope not!

praised, sickly sweet. It did wonders to calm my beast from its frazzled, blood–lust state. “That felt good, did it?

That’s the thing.

feel the

drew blood, trickling down to the bottom of the

pain is not enough.

shit, what the

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255