Haunted Chp 1

Chapter 1

Source: Instragram itsthreesixty

The one thing I could see, the only thing they allowed me to see was Mikka's wide dead eyes surrounded by bruising, mouth agape in a ghastly position as if she'd been screaming in agony next to me before the blade was shoved in the center of her chest. They'd come for me and would probably torture me too, simply for loving the wrong person. That wasn't the main reason they were after me but it sure as hell didn't help.

We'd argued before bed and I'd never get a chance to say I'm sorry, even if it wasn't my fault. We fought over something trivial and she was dead now. It all seemed pointless to go over however as the van pulled down the familiar rock covered driveway. My screams had stopped hours ago but they rang in my lungs full force in retaliation. They were only met with harsh laughter from the men beside me now.

Men... pigs with hands.

I wondered how long she'd suffered before they ended her misery. Visions of her bloody chest and missing body parts came to mind. It was disorganized as if the thought as to which finger and what breast to remove had been a serious debate. Hot tears covered my cheeks and I prepared myself for the worst.

I didn't expect them to let me live. Is this what acceptance was like? A culmination of cowardice and shame. I watched her between having my lights knocked out like some sort of twisted flesh show.

Twisted flesh... my stomach turned at the thought of her flesh twisted around exposed bone and how I never thought it would look That way inside of a human body. The red of blood could not be mimicked truly in movies. The stench of the smell. My stomach lurched and I convulsed forward spewing my morning meal onto the captor sitting on the bench in front of me in the van. I could hear the gravel crunch to a stop suddenly and I flew to the side jerking down into the ground when chain on my cuffs reached tension.

I tasted and felt the pain as the boot met my jaw and I cried out in agony hoping somewhere along the line I was numbed to it.

"What's going on back there?!" A loud masculine voice boomed.

"Stupid bitch threw up on me," the mongrel whose foot cocked back for another blow spit out.

The impact caused me to see lights and then darkness. I was somehow still aware of my body being moved but sight escaped me. It wasn't until I was thrown onto something lumpy but soft that I realized there was a bag thrown over my head.

"You will sit here until we decide what to do with you. We aren't going to make it as easy as we did for your little girlfriend.." the drawl was southern, deep. I imagined some hick with a trucker cap and a lump of tobacco in the side of his jaw. This made me smile and I knew that I would be safe to do so because they left the bag on my head. I smiled my widest smile feeling the thrill of my actions keep me for just this moment sane enough to rebel.

A woman's piercing scream filled my ears and I thrashed not knowing the extent of my predicament. Cold chain tightened around my throat and my eyes widened in the darkness of what felt like a burlap bag. I coughed and choked however the sound of a door opening and rushing steps made me wish the chains were tighter. Firm but nimble hands seemed to save me from my position and suddenly Fresh Air as the bag over my head was swiftly removed. I gasped for the air which tasted more stale than fresh as more air filled my lungs however I was thankful for it. It is such a precarious feeling to long for death and abhor it at the same time.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust however I could see what caused my predicament. The bastards had chained me to the bedpost and I had wrapped myself in it.

"You're going to be okay, relax," the voice was strangely calm and gentle. I can see his eyes and they seem calm as well. Black like coffee or wet dirt.

"Where am I?" My voice is gravelly and I wonder for how long I was choking in my sleep before the lack of oxygen woke me. Had I really rolled into that position or had they placed me that way? My eyes darted left to right to take in the room outside of the view of him, my captor.

The walls were dirty with what could be tar or just plain dirt. The room was empty save for a bucket in the corner and the makeshift bed I lay on. The door behind him stayed ajar and I craved to walk out that door to my life before this moment.

"You know I can't tell you that, but you can probably imagine. You might have been out of it but the nose never forgets where it has been," He wasn't a guy I had seen in this foul place. This wasn't a room I had ever known intimately. This was the place where he took his captives. The screams I heard from the hallways still echoed in my mind.

Entering this drive before it appeared normal, boring even. What seemed like a passing violent past for me was suddenly ripped into my view again. Shoved into alarming clarity.