Dice [h.s.]

13

TW: Torture

"Speak less than you know; have more than you show." -William Shakespeare

Some of my worst fears include sharks, spiders, long times in the dark, clowns, and death. Death is number one on that list. I never felt like I was near death before. Well, until now.

Sitting here in the dark with zero feeling in my body. I've gone numb from the bullets in my shoulder or the major bleedings on my thigh and shoulder. Or the dry blood on my lips.

I've lost so much blood, I don't know how I'm alive. I feel weak, almost completely lifeless. I wanna give up. I wanna just let myself go. But, I'm still holding on to one thing.

Harry. The image of him flexing his muscles or getting really close to me flashes in my brain each time the numbness starts to go away. The pain my body refused to feel is wiped away by the picture of his dimples indenting onto his smooth features.

Never in a million years would I think that the thing keeping me from death was the dick who tried to fuck me three months ago. I wasn't mad though. I wasn't anything honestly. I couldn't feel much.

"Wakey wakey!" A deep man's voice sang out, patting my cheek with something cold. All I know is that it was not a hand.

I opened my eyes the best I could when I noticed the lights were on. I was in a concrete room covered in dry blood stains on the floor and walls. I was tied up, I knew that much. I had tried to move before, but I was just pulled back and almost paralyzed.

There was a tray beside me with different knives and a few guns. I felt fear rush through my body, but can't show them anything but my numbness. But, to be honest, that's all I could bring myself to show them anyways.

"Open your fucking eyes." The voice grew angry, and tapped my bruised cheek again. I caught a glimpse of the cold object. It was the barrel of a gun.

"I did dipshit." I mumbled out, trying to keep my composure. I opened my eyes until they were completely open.

It was blurry since my eyes had shut while I was crying. I shook my head back and forth so I could try and dry my eyes. It did nothing. But I still got a good look at the guy in front of me.

Marcus. It was Marcus. My dad's trainee. He would follow my dad around, trying to learn everything he could from him. He was always wearing scrubs. What is he doing here?

"You should not be giving me an attitude. You're the one tied up right now." Marcus walked over to a chair in the corner of the room.

"Yea, about that. Why am I tied up?" I tried to change my position but I was too restricted to the chair.

These ropes were pulling at my arms, making the pain in my shoulder start to spread through my body. I couldn't avoid the pain anymore.

"Do you know who I am?" Marcus pulled the chair closer to me and smiled at the gun in his left hand.

"Of course I do Marcus." I coughed a little and spit out to the side. I saw blood land on the ground.

That's not good.

"If you had just gone silently, you wouldn't be hurt right now darling. But you just had to fight back. Your so fucking stupid. I bet Harry told you to do that." Marcus had an evil country accent.

God I wanted to punch his face in so badly right now.

"How do you know I'm working for Harry?" I narrowed my eyes at Marcus. He was the one at the casino.