Full Summary:

tor·ture

ˈtôrCHər/

noun

1.

the action or practice of inflicting severe pain on someone as a punishment or to force them to do or say something, or for the pleasure of the person inflicting the pain.

synonyms: infliction of pain, abuse, ill-treatment, maltreatment, persecution; sadism

"acts of torture"

No one can say he didn't do it for pleasure…

A grin spreading across his face at the thought.

None can say he didn't do it to force her into submission…

The rage that would cause his eyes to glint in such a psychotic way.

No one can say he didn't do it as punishment for fighting back, for disobeying his orders.

verb

1.

inflict severe pain on

"most of the victims had been brutally tortured"

synonyms: inflict pain on, ill-treat, abuse, mistreat, maltreat, persecute

"they have tortured suspects in order to extract confessions"

Yeah, it usually is severe, but it's not the pain of being beaten down, poked with hot rods, or loose teeth. The real pain comes from the aftermath, having to live with it all. To close one's eyes and see it replay as if not seeing it live was enough.

Prologue

Fight by Icon for Hire

"Come on, hun. It's not too far out there and besides, we'll be back before the sun even has the time to set."

Sighing, she gently swirled her coffee with the plastic spoon, indecision playing across her face. What harm could it do?

"Alright, but we better be home by sundown!" She smiled sweetly in his direction, regretting the words even then.

"Then there's no time to lose! My friends and I built it quite a while back though, so it is probably in bad shape. I'm sure I can find a few treasures back there for ya," he had given a boyish wink then proceeded to drag her out of the coffee shop and into the autumn air.

That had been a year ago.

It had just been a simple trip to the woods. How could she have ever guessed her boyfriend was capable of doing such things? Then again, how well did she know her boyfriend of two months?

The same crisp, even more chilling, air surrounded her in her small room. A rusty bed, no window, and a bolted door. If she was good she could use the bathroom whenever. But, she rarely gave in to his demands. She fought with all she had and wouldn't be intimidated by him. Ever.

On this chilling day, she found herself on her side, the bed beside her supporting half her weight, covered in some of her blood. Gulping, she tried to keep the pressure up on her wound without hurting herself, but everything throbbed at the slightest breath she took.

Gritting her teeth, she got back up. He had left so mad that he had forgotten to bolt the door shut. Almost laughing, she grabbed the knife she used to cut her hair and limped her way to the door. Bloody neck wound and a vicious headache were her consequences, well worth the trouble in the end.

The door creaked open with minimal effort. All that time planning for this one small step had been a waste since he left it wide open. She didn't know the house floor plans very well, but over the months she had figured out they kept her in a basement. The first underground floor to be exact.

If she remembered correctly, to her right would be a dead end but to her left would be a guard and a window to escape. The window would be small but with her underweight size, she felt confident enough she could fit. However, finding the strength would be a completely different thing.

Tightening her grip on her weapon of choice, she made a mad dash to her left. No bulking body stood in her way, just a beam of dusty light that lit her path to freedom. Not bothering with strange coincidences, she stumbled over a few stray rocks in her hurry.

A dent in the wall had them crumbling all over the place. Someone had quite the fit today.

Gulping down all the nervousness and fear, she pushed the rusty window open with a little bit of elbow grease and dragged herself through until her feet felt the soil stick itself between her toes.

Relief washed over her as the trees planted before her, in clear view, shed their leaves, exposing the inner forest and a path to run. No time to waste, she wobbled as fast she could to the tree line. Her leg hurt as did her ribs but she let the adrenaline keep her up and going.

It infected every inch of her and in no time the trees flew past her, not a single ounce of pain. She hadn't gone very far when it wore down, a dull throb growing stronger and stronger with every intake, every stride.

Shaking, she fell against a tree, propelling herself forward, not deluding herself into thinking she was safe. Her hand caught the bark of the next tree and she used its natural strength to find her own, taking another few steps.

The house had long ago faded behind her. In the distance, a stream ran rampant. A cool breeze ushered her forward. Droplets of rain mixed into the sweat that poured from her.

A chill swept through her seconds before the world spun around her. Bleeding, she grasped onto the tree weakly.

Her breath came out in a white mist in front of her as chills racked her body. Fall weather had always been beautiful but cold, always cold. She figured she must have been walking for hours since the chilly air hadn't been this bad when she began her trek. The day must be nearing the evening. Shadows and the dying light backed this fact.

Howls sounded behind her along with shouts about her escape, someone must have returned to the cell or saw the door swinging open. Cursing, she pushed herself from the tree into a mad dash despite the pain that shot through her entire body.

The dizziness had washed away and the panic that filled her warmed her body to an impossible degree.

She wobbled slightly in her run and almost tripped over a root but not once had she stopped. A bullet whizzed past her head electing a scream from her. Then a snarl sounded behind her along with the snapping of jaws. They had caught up to her and were literally at her heels.

A fearsome growl sounded from her left before the teeth sank into her shoulder blade. It must have lost its grip because its teeth made its way down part of her back before all together letting go. Crying out from the pain, she toppled over and landed in a heap.

New beings appeared in front of her, joining the fray. Their backs were turned to her as they snarled and chased the others away with fangs and claws. For a moment, she smiled, feeling a spark of hope. But, it faded as tails swished before her eyes, fur standing on end, claws digging into the ground in anger, all things she's seen before.

Voices could be heard before gentle hands turned her paling face. With a blurry sight, she made out nothing of the stranger, but he didn't look like the rough men she had been surrounded by earlier. He looked to be yelling, judging by his facial expression and the way his lips moved, at her but she closed her eyes and just gave up.

She'd either be returned to his faithful arms, killed, or subjected to a new horror. From one hell to the next.

She at least tried, right?