She danced with his demons, while he devoured her angels.
In which a young girl is kidnapped and brought into a world of sick man's fantasies with other kidnapped women.
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The next morning I woke up to release myself from the confines of Harry's arms. I left his room upon hearing all the girls voices somewhere in the kitchen, realizing morning was actually more like early afternoon. The sun was up high in the sky and it's rays beat down on the wilderness surrounding the house.
I turned the corner, noticing the basement door was propped open.
"Alai! Come join us your probably hungry." Rory said, setting plates down at the table. I pulled my sleeves over my fingers, walking up to the table as I was greeted and hugged by some of the girls. Samantha smiled warmly. They all exchanged glances at me to ask if I was ok since I had been gone so long to which I whispered I'd tell them later.
Harry came out of his room with his arms stretched as he slipped on a jacket. He flipped his curls over his head and gave each one of us a hug, eyes scanning over the table. He seemed hungry. Samantha poured out the food on the plates and placed waters on the table in everyones spot. I wasn't sure where to sit but took a random spot and watched as the seats started to fill.
Harry sat on the opposite end of course.
Breakfast, or early lunch really, went by slow. Agonizingly slow. Harry gave me glances every now and then, whispering to eat my food as he made signals with his hands. Stuffing a piece of bread into my mouth, I gave him a glare.
His eyebrows raised, lifting his dark eyes to give me a warning. I had enough of being treated like a slave, when I was a human being. So I rolled my eyes, grasping the fork in my hand. I wasn't sure how long we had been staring at each other but it wasn't until I noticed how dark Harry's eyes had turned that his jaw clenched. His knuckles were turning white, still staring at me.
I looked at my plate, fiddling with some of the jam and eggs. I could feel Harry staring me down. Somewhere in me I knew I was going to be in deep shit later for giving him attitude, but if he really wanted to do something to me he would have. I doubted the presence of the other girls mattered to him anyway. Sighing, I got lost in my own world. My mind was almost like an escape and I drowned out the sounds of all the girls conversations. I thought about my parents whom I hadn't talked to in a long time, but I prayed they had somehow noticed my disappearance.
When food was done we all cleaned our dishes, Harry handing his plate to ali while he went to get changed. I shivered, putting my dishes into the rack and heading back towards the basement, eyeing the front door which was bolted shut as usual. Only Harry had the key, but I was hell bent on retrieving it and making a run for it.
I took a sharp inhale, walking down the basement steps.
Rory was playing with some kind of game alone in her room, her back turned to the door. She moved the pieces along the slab of cardboard. I watched her pick up a card, lifting her head when the sound of heavy footsteps headed down the stairs. They were too big to be any of the girls. So they were definitely Harry's.
The boots hit the floor with anger, making rory stand to her feet. It wasn't long after that we heard the basement door shut, and Harry followed by all the girls trailed behind him. They kept their eyes down, heading straight for the bedrooms.
He closed the doors behind them, locking them. I was the only one left outside the rooms, shivering as I realized what was coming. Harry's hands found themselves tangled in my hair, pulling me backwards to crash into his chest, staring down at me with pure fury in his eyes.
This had to be about the look I gave him.
Harry breathed down into my face as his fingers felt around the soft skin of my cheeks. He pulled them, prodded at them, and ran his thumb over my lip. His fingers grasped the strands of my hair tightly again making my heart race.
"I've tried to be nice. And clearly, it's not working." He breathed. My shaking hands pulled at his wrists, but they didn't budge. "Get undressed."
My face must have went pale, completely changing its expression to total fear because Harry's lips pulled into a smirk that made my stomach churn. He had some evil intent behind his eyes that I could see reflecting off the smallest hint of light from the basement.
"P-please, I didn't mean it." I quivered, my voice faltering.
"Do it or I will tear them off myself." He said. I nodded, feeling his fingers fade from my skin only for his eyes to replace the feeling. I stepped back from the man, my fingers grasping the hem of my jacket and unzipping it. I shut my eyes, feeling the cold air bite at my skin as it came off.
My pants were next, and before I knew it I was pushed down into the sofa. I felt my face collide with the cushions, smelling of dirt and sweat. My lip shook as my tears started to flood down my face, realizing what was about to happen. The very thing I had been so persistent on not occurring. What I had tried so hard, on two other occasions to stop. And succeeded.
"H-Harry you don't have to do this." I felt his hand grasp the flesh of my hips, pulling me up towards him.
"You'll learn no other way." He muttered, and I heard his belt come undone. The fabric being emptied from the belt sockets rang like alarm bells in my ears as I tried to hold onto something, perhaps my sanity. My pride.
"Harry please I'm begging you," I said, a choked sob coming from my lips, my eyes were watery as I stared at his shadow on the wall. He was looping the belt around his wrist. I saw his body pause, his head tilting.
"Beg me some more then." He whispered, smirking. I couldn't see it, but I could hear the smirk, like a gut instinct. I just knew it was there. Smug bastard, I thought, lifting my head from the cushions with caution.
"Please, Harry." I sobbed as I bit down on my lip.
There was silence after the words left my mouth, an intense and thick silence. I was hoping he had heard it, and I was sure he did. But then again I may have been sobbing too loud for that to reach his ears. I started to whisper the word again, being interrupted by a harsh smack on my backside.
He had hit me with his belt.
"Say it again."
And so I repeated it. Over and over. And when it was all done, and I had wiped tears from my face, my feelings towards the man were worse. Much worse, all I needed to focus on was getting the hell out.
