Detrimental [H.S.]

𝟹𝟸 - ᴍɪɴᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇs

My head felt like it was pounding against my skull and I felt stuck. My eyes feathered slowly opened and all I could see was darkness. Nothing but a pitch-black room, if I was in a room at all.

I couldn't find any sign of Harry. What if he left me here to die? What if this is his way of showing that he is sick of me and wants to get rid of me?

From what I could recall, I accidentally blurted out something about Gemma like the fucking clumsy bitch I was. My heart raced as the picture of Harry's expression filled with fury flashed in my head.

I bit my lip to prevent my cries as my eyes widened in horror, thinking about all the possible terrifying explanations for all of this.

The panic surged through me and in response, I thrashed relentlessly to get out of what I assumed was a seat, but I felt restrained. That was when my breathing pattern started to pick up because only then, I realized I was tied down on a chair.

My legs were tied to the legs of the chair and my arms were tied as well behind the back of the chair. I let a choked cry as I started to yell, hoping anyone would hear me.

"Help! Please, somebody help!" I screamed at the top of my lungs and all I heard was an echo of my loud cries. "Please, anyone!" This room had a horrid smell, a smell that I was familiar with because of Harry... The metallic smell of blood.

The tears poured down my cheek quickly and it only got worse when I heard no response. "Can anyone hear me? Help!"

"Hey is anyone in there?" Suddenly an unfamiliar voice yelled through the thick walls of this dark room. It sounded as if they were behind the wall or door of some kind.

"Yes!! Please, help me! I'm tied down to this chair and I can't get out!!" I yelled the loudest I could as my throat began to ache.

"Okay okay! Let me find some way in, hang tight!" The voice of what seemed like a young man was heard again and I only felt the slightest bit of relief but I was still so damn scared.

Why did Harry just leave me here? He always said he liked to torture his victim first before simply getting rid of them so why did he choose a different path of death for me? All I wanted to do was cry more and more, and it was exactly what I did.

Minutes passed by and it felt like burning torture. I continued to thrash my hands against the ropes, feeling the sting around my wrist start to increase. I knew there was no way out of these ropes without the help of someone but I still tried, holding onto the last string of hope.

"Hurry!" My sobs were getting louder and my eyes glanced rapidly at the darkness of this room. It was too dark to see anything.

Finally, I saw a light peer through the room, exposing the wall splattered with horrific blood. My breath hitched as I watched in front of me but I couldn't see the man walking inside because my chair was facing the other way. Nonetheless, I felt reassurance from the man I would have to thank a million times.