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“But fear doesn’t need doors and windows. It works from the inside.” Andrew Clements, Things Not Seen
Thesoundofwhisperingand intermittent beeping brings me out of the empty dark nothingness I am stranded in. Fear instantaneously seizes my body and causes my heart to gallop painfully in my chest. The beeping sound rising and escalating around me, both sounding far and near to my consciousness. My eyes feel so heavy; I fight against the weight preventing me from opening them and being aware of my surroundings.Where am I, and more importantly, where is my father?
“Theo,” A soft feminine voice calls to me.
Terror of still being confined to the wooden cross, of being tortured and abused, enters my mind, images replaying all the horrors I’ve suffered in the last couple of hours at my father’s hands.No, no more, please.I can’t take anymore! Please don’t touch me anymore!Just let me die, please.I want to die; for once, my body, mind, and heart are in agreement.
I try to move away from the voice, preferring the oblivion of the darkness, the nothingness, than to being touched and hurt. Sharp pains race through my body and my skin, bones and limbs all feel like they are on fire. Everything hurts and I know he has finally broken me. I will beg for mercy and death rather than let this torture continue. I will gladly succumb to death if it means my suffering will finally be at an end. It looks like he was always right; I was weak, after all. I am pathetic and couldn’t even protect myself.
The image of Carter lying on the ground with me, beaten and broken, enters my mind. That fool disobeyed me and came for me. Now he’s here with me being tortured, and we will both die at the hands of my sadistic, psychotic father. As much as I wanted to save him, now all I want is for this all to be over.
The one glimmer of hope, the one speck of peace I have, is that Mia is far from my father’s grasp. Carter told me that she was on her way to Manhattan, to the Stratfords, and he will never be able to get his hands on her there. Stella will burn the whole world to keep her safe.
Vincent has lost, and hopefully, I will die now, so he can’t inflict any more savagery and pain on me. He has killed his own son, his chance of an heir ruling after him, and lost Mia in the process. If my body weren’t so filled with pain and lust for death, I would genuinely enjoy the misery of the situation he finds himself in now.
“Theo, open your eyes.” The soft voice calls to me again like a siren trying to lure me to my ruin.
I disregard it, preferring to die in my own solitude and silence. I should make sure that Carter is still alive and try to help him before I go off to meet my maker, but the pain is too much, and my body and eyes won’t cooperate. Oblivion once again calls for me, and I readily go towards her and nothingness.
The soft sound of whispering and a soft beeping noise greets my consciousness and pulls me out of the nightmare that plagues my mind. The sounds aren’t unpleasant, but my muscles and limbs are still locking up tight. Fear races through me, my mind refusing to stop the images of all the pain I’ve suffered from running through it. The memory of the girl on her knees, my cock being forced into her mouth, enters my mind, and bile crawls up my throat.No, no more, please.
I can feel something on my face and arms.What has he done to me now?I beg my eyes to open so we can see where we are and what they are doing to us.Fight, my brain screams at me, but my heart begs to go back into darkness, to walk into oblivion and never return.
The beeping sound increases, gaining strength and sounding louder and faster. The whispering has stopped, and I feel the touch of someone’s fingers on my arm. My skin shivers at the soft touch, the hairs on my arms are standing on end and my stomach revolts at the feeling of skin-on-skin contact. DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME! My mind screams!
“Theo, please wake up, baby.” A soft and melodic voice calls to me. My heart races painfully in my chest at the sound. A tinge of awareness tries to make its way into my mind. We know that sound, that voice. It’s a trick!
Again I try to force my heavy eyelids to open to show me where I am and who is here with me.Don’t, my mind screams;they will hurt us!I need to know what is happening, what they are doing to me, and where I am.No, you don’t, you fool; in the dark nothingness, we can’t be hurt.
“Theo” Once again, soft fingers are touching me, now across my cheek and jaw, feather-light and warm. The touch is light, but still, I find it painful and repugnant, the desire to run from here invading my body. I force my gritty eyes open, light momentarily blinding me and everything out of focus. I can only see a dark shape of who’s touching me, my eyes refusing to focus. Fear skates up my throat, momentarily stalling my airways.
“No! No, please don’t touch me.” I mumble through swollen lips and tongue. My voice barely escaping my lips.
I try to pull away from the touch, revulsion skating across my skin at the stroke. Pain ricochets through my limbs as I try to shift my body as far away from the person as possible. Another hand grabs my leg above my knee with a firmer grip. NO! Fuck no! No more, no more hurting me, please! My mind screams at me to fight back, don’t let them touch us, don’t let them break us. I thrash my legs, trying to kick off whoever is grasping me, but my limbs are weak and on fire. You are pitiful and powerless, my father’s voice echoes in my mind.
“Theo, you're safe, bro.” A male voice calls to me, and another hand skates across my arm, this time heavier than the light touch on my face. My heart rate speeds up, and a cold sweat breaks out all over my body. Will they rape me again? How many will use my body against me? I can’t endure the humiliation, the retching of my body and soul for their satisfaction. The beeping sound is becoming more frantic, and different voices are penetrating my dull senses. Focus, god dammit, I beg my eyes. We need to know who is touching us. We need to know who to hunt down and kill for trying to break us.You’re delusional if you think they haven’t already broken us, my mind seethes.
Finally, my eyes begin to focus and shapes become clearer. I’m in a hospital bed, hooked up to wires in my arms. I can feel something on my face and in my nose. The light is so bright it hurts my eyes. I blink a few times to try to clear the grit and heaviness. A woman stands next to me, I can’t focus on her features, but she’s too close, touching me. NO! No more!
“No more, don’t touch me, don’t hurt me,” I beg, tears escaping my eyes like the weak, pathetic being I am.
“Get the doctor in here.” A male voice calls out, and a shudder runs through me. They brought a doctor to keep me alive so they can keep torturing me. Fuck. Why can’t he just let me die? What did I ever do to deserve constant punishment and abuse?
“Theo, baby, please.” The soft voice calls to me again, but I won’t be tricked into thinking it won’t harm me, that they won’t enjoy punishing me. It amuses their sick minds to try to break me, to use my body for their perversions and satisfaction. This time they have succeeded. I am broken, worthless, pathetic, and begging to be spared. Death is my only goal, and I would welcome its embrace.
“NO! Fuck you, don’t touch me! Let me fucking die, you cunt.” I scream through broken lips, but it comes out as a hoarse whisper. Even my voice has deserted me, my throat raw, and the taste of copper in my mouth.
“Step back, please, miss.” A loud male voice speaks with authority, and additional hands touch me. I force my eyes to focus and look up into a face I don’t recognize; dark brown eyes stare at me with concern below dark eyebrows and short-cropped dark hair. Who is this? Who is touching me?
“Theo, can you hear me, son?” The male asks. “Theo, I need you to focus and calm down. Let the oxygen help you, son; you need to calm down. You’re safe.”
Safe? How can I ever be safe? No, it’s lies; they are lying. Whoever this is, is lying to me. They will hurt me again. They will touch me again and force my body to do things it doesn’t want to. They will rape me again over and over like before.No, don’t trust the voice, my mind screams. Pitiful tears stream from my eyes and down the side of my face. I can’t breathe, fear closing my throat and terror running through my painful limbs.
“Theo, breathe, brother, please! It’s Finn, Theo! You're safe, bro.” A male voice calls from my side. I know that voice. Recognition makes its way through my muddled brain, the sound of the voice pleading with me breaking through my fear. Finn? How is he here? Can it be Finn?
“Finn.” My lips move, but barely a whisper escapes.
“Bro, we are here. Please calm down. Theo, please, it’s Mateo.”
