Page 12 of Wreck and Ruin
No. No. No.
“Thank you, Father Grimsby. We knowexactlywhat to do.”
He can’t let them do this to me!
“We’ll have your stomach full of us in no time,” one of the men whispers against the side of my face as Father’s silhouette dissolves into the darkness, leaving me alone with Satan’s beasts like I am nothing.
My vision blurs as tears brim my eyes, though I don't let them fall. My jaw slackens as blood spills from my lips and drips down my chin. Falon notices, leaning in closer to trail his tongue along the blood as it drips from my mouth. I focus on the sound of Father’s footsteps as he retreats, anything but the fingers trailing over my body and the evil man hovering near the place between my legs.
“Do you think she tastes sweet, Falon?” Jeremy asks, and I can feel his breath on my sensitive skin.
“There is only one way to find out, now, isn’t there. Why don’t you fuck her pretty cunt with your tongue? While I fuck her tight ass.”
I force back a whimper and squeeze my eyes shut. I want to kick and scream, but it would be pointless. I’m chained, powerless against them.
“Don't worry, Dove. I can go again, and again, and again,” Falon whispers before his tongue wraps around my earlobe and he sucks it into his mouth. “You should be thanking us, really. You're as good as fucking dead without us. Father Grimsby has been trying to get you pregnant for years, but between you and me, that old bastard doesn't have a decent fuck left in him these days. I don't know why he didn't tell us about you sooner. It seems that you—” He trails his tongue along the side of my face, then hovers over my ear before continuing, “You are his dirty little secret, aren't you?” Goosebumps prickle at my skin, and I’m equal parts terrified and completely devastated.
“He must like you, you know,” Jeremy says, still on one knee before me. His eyes shift from mine to focus on the place between my legs again, and I remind myself that any form of retaliation will not end well for me. “Because he lets you shave your pussy. Or do you let him do it for you?” he asks, hunger lacing his tone as he continues to stare at me.
Father says I look better this way, and I never minded him shaving me for that reason. When I oblige, he treats me better, and to be perfectly honest, what happens to me is none of their business. They are not my friends. They are not kind. I used to think Father cared for me, even if he didn't always know how to show it. But that thought, and any other pleasant feelings I may have had toward him over the years, all died the moment he walked away from me, leaving me alone and defenseless with these animals. It never occurred to me that the pain that he inflicted on me was deliberate, let alone that he wanted to get me pregnant. How do I get pregnant? If he had told me, I could have tried. I would have done anything to stop this night from happening.
“Do you know where you are, Little Dove?” Jeremy questions, but I remain stoic and unbothered by him, forcing as much hatred and indifference into my expression as I possibly can. When I don't reply, he continues, “This place is Hell, and the only way out for you is death.” My brows furrow. Everything I had known this place to be, my home, the ocean, can't be Hell.
“This is Atlantara. The place where people like us are either born, stolen from our families, or sold,” Falon says, and I audibly gasp, then quickly shut my mouth before one of them comments on it.
That cannot be possible.
God may have disregarded a few things that have happened around here recently, but there's no way he'd allow for someone to be stolen or, even worse, sold.
“No reaction?” Jeremy chuckles, grinning up at me. “There are hundreds of people like you here.” The breath from my lungs almost disintegrates with that piece of information.
Hundreds.
Why?
What is Father doing with hundreds of people like me?
He's lying.
There's no way Father would do something like that. And if it were true, the fact that they are telling me all of this can only mean one of two things. I won’t be alive long enough to tell someone, or Father told them I do not speak, therefore keeping their secrets safe.
“She's spiraling,” Falon sing-songs, smiling as he gently runs his finger along my face, where his tongue was moments ago. It only makes me feel sick.
“The real mystery is why he's kept you down here all these years and not up there with the rest of us.” One of them speaks, but I don't know which, as my mind spins.
The rest of us?
Are they prisoners, too?
AmIa prisoner?
I'm so confused.
It's like they're clawing their way into my mind.
I can't let them.
The sharp pain in my ear from Falon’s teeth drags me from my warring thoughts as he moves his mouth from my ear down to my breast, leaving behind trails of saliva and blood before wrapping his mouth around my nipple. It hardens in response, and I silently curse myself.
