Vicious | ✎

8|Hell

I want to kiss you

hug you

hold your hand

sleep next to you

wake up next to you 

show you off to the world

and cherish every second I have with you.

I want to love every part of you forever 

but even forever isn't enough time.

~~~~~~~~~~

S I E R R A

My eyes flutter open; I see a white roof blurring into focus. Where am I? What happened? I slowly sit myself up, but am stopped when my head pounds. When I eventually sit myself up; my eyes are wide and round, searching the beautiful room. The bed I'm in has grey and white covers, the carpeted floor is white. The room is big... hell, the room's so big that there's two loveseats sitting, facing each other; they're a few feet away from the front of the bed. To my left are windows; large windows but as I look out, I can only see the blue skies which means we're a few stories high. To my right are two other doors, a third door sits on the wall opposite the bed, but closer to the right side then the left.

All I can remember is being told that werewolves are a thing, but I don't believe him. 

Why would I?

After that everything's forgotten and now, I'm in a bed, a warm and cozy bed. I never want to climb out, but my curiosity is screaming at me to get up and to find out where I am. So, as much as it dreads me, I pull the comforters off me and place my feet on the soft carpet. I push myself up and off the bed, but take a few seconds to close my eyes and allow myself to find my balance.

Once I have; I pad towards the doors on the right wall. I first open the one to the right, which leads to a bathroom that has so much space; I could perform a whole dance routine in it. There is, firstly, a bath in the middle of the room, a large white bath.

How much do these water bills cost?

I walk up to the bath and let out a sigh as I trace the side of it with my fingertips; my eyes land on the floor and I feel like my feet shouldn't be allowed on it. It's marble; white with strokes and smudges of grey. Then, in a corner of the room is a walk-in shower; the walls of it are pure glass. There isn't steel or plastic anything's holding it together, it connects from the floor to the roof and has enough space for ten people.

There's a toilet, a large counter and the giant mirror starts at the floor and goes all the way up to the ceiling interrupted only for a moment by the vanity. I'm in shock. This is a bathroom. The amount of money spent on a bathroom amazes me, disgusts me. I turn away and walk out of the door; back into the bedroom.

I walk up to the door on the left and pull it open, and as I was expecting; there's a closet. It isn't as big or as obnoxious as the bathroom, but I don't have enough clothes to fill it up. At all. I shaky my head as I look at the white carpet floor, the wooden planks to fold and lay your clothes, the rails to hold up your dresses and coats, and the shelfs I can only assume is for shoes.

I walk out and close the door; my hazel eyes land on the wide wall that is a window, and walk towards it. The room has a calming sense to it; it's light colors and the sunlight making it look like I'm in heaven; but when I look out of the window...

I'm sure I'm in hell.

I can't see anything but blunt, sorrowful brown dirt and mud. There are burnt, black trees that go for miles, a fire must have caused it. On the available ground, and even scattered amongst the trees are men and women.

No laughing, no smiling, no chatter, no sound. Unless you're counting the sounds or whimpers, the sounds of screams and the sounds of groans. They are working, their clothes are ripped rags; so many ripped rags that barely cover anything. There must be hundreds of them; all chained unless they're the guards watching them; no gun in sight.

Why not run? Why allow them to overpower you?

My wide, fearful eyes watch as they work in compartments; some sorting stuff, some making stuff, some cutting down trees and some more building and creating things.

I find out why they won't run.

There is a man that wears no shirt, his back bare. His hands have been chained to two wooden poles that are a few feet apart. Children are forced to watch as the man gets whipped repeatedly. They're crying and wishing for them to stop; all I can do is watch in absolute horror.

What the hell is this?

The whip lashes him again and I snap. I turn on my heel and charge for the door; it flings open and I run out in a rush to stop this. To stop this pain and suffering I've seen. I sprint down the halls until I find a staircase that leads downstairs. Where am I? What have I become a part of? What's happening? Why would they make children watch that? I dart down stairs faster than I ever have before, making sure not to slip on the marble floors that are leading me to the front door; the front door that leads me outdoors.

The house seems to be abandoned when I spot no one else in the house. It's too big for one person, who isn't anyone outside?

"Sierra?" I hear someone question themselves as I rush past. I think it was Axel but I'm not really concentrated on that now; I'm more focused on saving- er, helping that man. That poor man.

"Sierra, wait!" Yes, it's Axel, and it sounds like he's after me. I rush through the rooms, a few desperate groans escaping me when I can't find the exit. But when I hear the pained scream, I know where to go. I spin and rush towards the next room; my pounding head long gone as I find the door that leads to the screams and cries. My feet slip slightly on the floor but I catch myself and rush forward; I grab the handle and yank the door open, and just as I'm about to step out I'm pulled back into the house.

Axel caught me, "Stop." He growls angrily as he slams the door closed, "Are you insane?!" He yells at me as I wriggle out of his secure hold. When I get out; I spin around, and because of my current fear, and the current adrenaline pumping through my blood; I slap him.

He groans as he grips his now red cheek; I turn and march towards the door, fling it open again and move out, when I shut the door and turn around again?

No scream, shouts, whimpers or groans are heard anymore. All eyes are suddenly on me; wide and curious and fearful and desperate.

But all I can focus on is the man chained to the poles; his dark eyes, that I instantly recognize, looking into mine with dread.

Blake.

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