1. WYNTER

1

WYNTER

E ighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one …

My fingers brush over each metal bar of my cell as I blindly count them. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane nowadays. As long as I can feel the smooth metal against my fingertips then I know I’m safe here in my pitch-black prison.

That is until the door inevitably opens at the top of the stairs and another slither of my humanity is torn from me.

Speak of the devil. My prison is brought to life as the door is unlocked and the harsh white light that’s flicked on illuminates the small space. My eyes burn like they always do at this point and I squeeze them closed. I don’t need to be able to see to know where I am down here or what’s about to happen.

My fingers keep gliding over the bars and I continue my count. Heavy footsteps come down the stairs and I know I only have a few seconds before my cage is unlocked.

Some days I look forward to any sort of human interaction, other days I’d rather die than have the men here lay another finger on me. Today is a day to die.

Opening one eye the tiniest fraction, I see the man in the periphery of my vision.

The sound of keys jingling tells me my solitude is over for the day. “Stand back.”

I do as he says, stepping back the three short steps it takes for my body to be pressed against the wall behind me.

My current home, for however long it’s been now, consists of this tiny space and wherever I’m taken when I’m dragged out of here.

Day and night no longer exist for me. My body clock is fucked and I run off of the man upstairs’ schedule.

Whenever he wants me that’s when I get to leave these few feet. I don’t get to experience life outside the basement, but I suppose not having to be aware of the vile things that are done to me is a good thing.

“Out you get.” I step out of the narrow cell door and start walking towards the stairs.

“Not so fast,” the man says, making me stop. He's one of many guards here. Faceless. Nameless. They always wear the same plain black clothes and masks over their faces. Each time they come, they give me the same orders. Step back. Face the wall. Hands behind your back. Sometimes they say more. The loud ones press their bodies close and tell me exactly what I am to them.

This order is new.

“He won’t mind you being a little bit late, I’ll come up with a good excuse.” He places his hands on my bare shoulders, forcing me to face him.

Instinctively I cover my exposed body from him. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, being paraded around naked like I don’t deserve clothes. The way he looks at me makes me feel dirtier than I already am.

“Try anything and I’ll make sure I don’t stop biting until I hear my teeth clack together and my throat fills with your blood,” I seethe, my eyes locked on his. I’m tall enough to stand my ground with him, but I know I don’t stand a chance if he decides to get physical. I’ve learned that the hard way.

“I’ll just come take what I want later.”

“No, he wouldn’t allow it. Don’t want your swimmers in me now do we?” What I know about my being here is vague, but from the few slithers of conversations I’ve heard between the armed men is that I’m here to be bred by one man. I’m his property. His toy that he has his men collect when he wants to play.

The guard laughs and finally takes his hands off me. “You think he cares what the rest of us do to you? As long as no one comes in that pussy we get to do whatever else we want. Me and the rest of the boys are getting tired of face fucking a lifeless chick though.”

My stomach tightens into a painful knot and I try to block out the images of what could have been done to my body while I’ve been unconscious.

I’m not naive enough to think that I’m left alone once my role has been fulfilled upstairs.

It’s a difficult concept to get my head around. Knowing what my body’s been through without actually knowing it.

I wake up sore and bruised. No memories of the rape just the participation trophies adorning my skin. The bruises on my hips, the blood on my thighs.

“Fuck you,” I spit the words at him along with what little saliva I have in my mouth and some of it hits him in the eye.

“You fucking bitch!” He backhands me and I just about manage to stop my face from smacking into the wall.

“Will you hurry it up down there!” Another guard calls from the top of the stairs. “He’s been drinking so we better get her up there before he’s too limp to do anything. You know what it’s like if we don’t stick to the schedule.”

My attacker sighs and grabs my arm, pressing me face-first into the wall. I try to fight against him, but he presses his weight into me. I’m not sure why I keep fighting. It doesn’t change a thing. It only ends up getting me more hurt.

I feel the all too familiar prick of a needle in my neck and the cold fluid shoots into my veins.

The guard's other hand slides down my back and settles on my backside. I tense instinctively as he palms at my flesh.

“I’m going to take your ass tonight. Being a cumslut is all you’re good for after all.”

Managing to twist my arm free, I elbow him in the stomach, making him drop the needle and I see it smash. No liquid covers the floor. Only glass as all the sedative found its way into me.

I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I can already feel it taking hold of me and my limbs are slowly turning into heavy weights. Soon enough it’ll knock me out completely.

“Fucking whore. I’m going to enjoy going in rough. I was going to lube you up a little bit first, but thanks to that outburst I think I’ll go in dry.”

I’m pushed towards the stairs and only manage the first two steps before I fall forward. I don’t miss the way he laughs at me as my face collides with the concrete.

There’s no pain though. The drug they use on me is good for something at least.

I’m forced upright and I let my body go limp. I refuse to walk myself straight into hell, if I have to go there then they can carry me the whole way.

He mutters to himself as he drags me upstairs by my arms. I’m sure it’s supposed to hurt, but it’s like being dragged along a soft cloud. A laugh bursts out of me taking me by surprise.

Is this the moment where I finally break and go insane?

“Shut it,” the guy pulling me hisses and I laugh harder. He drops me and kicks me in the side. Now that one I felt. I groan as I curl in on myself to stop him from doing it again.

I’m picked up by my hair this time and dragged along the carpet. This is the most I’ve ever seen of the house. It’s got an old homely feel to it that definitely doesn’t say home to rapists.

“Is it still only you and me tonight?” the guard pulling me asks.

“No, Danny’s out front,” the other guard answers him back.

“Why’s no one else bothered to turn up?”

“Beats me. Hey, man, she’s still awake.” The other man bends down and his mask is a dark blur in front of me. “You’re meant to be out of it, so you better play dead in there for the old man. Understood?” There’s something in his tone that makes him sound guilty for doing this. Clearly not guilty enough to help me though.

“Make it stop,” I rasp out.

“What?”

“Knock me out. Please . Do whatever the hell you want to me later, but please knock me out now. I don’t want to know what he does.”

I swear there’s a hint of remorse in his eyes. He runs his hand over the top of his head as he looks up at his friend.

“I don’t give a shit, as long as we get to have some fun later do what you want.”

“Fine,” he sighs and his hands wrap around my throat. I take a deep breath before he closes them tight.

Pressure fills my head and chest. Although my mind is happy to drift off into nothing, my body fights against him.

Tears pool in my ears as my blood thunders in my head.

Dark waves drift over my body, carrying me away.

Please let this be it. I don’t want to wake up again.