𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

31

There, laying on a dirty mattress in the corner of the filthy room, is Penny.

She's all skin and bones, her little cheeks hollow and her eyes huge in her gaunt face. Her hair is matted, her clothes filthy and torn. But she's alive.

I'm across the room in a second, dropping to my knees and gathering her into my arms. She's so thin I'm afraid she might break. Penny weakly clings to me, her tiny body shaking with tears as she buries her face in my neck.

"I'm here, baby," I choke out through my own tears, rocking her back and forth. "Mama's here. I'm so sorry, Penny. I'm so sorry."

I hold her like that for what feels like hours, just crying and whispering apologies and promises. Promises to never leave her again, to keep her safe, to love her with every beat of my battered, broken heart.

"It's okay, baby," I murmur into Penny's hair, my tears soaking into her matted curls. "You're safe now, Pen. No one's ever gonna hurt you again, I swear . We're gonna go home and get you all cleaned up, and then we'll go get your favorite ice cream. How's that sound baby girl? Rocky road with extra marshmallows, right?"

But Penny doesn't respond. She's gone limp in my arms, her head just laying against my shoulder.

The reality of the situation crashing down like a bucket of ice water. I pull back, really looking at my daughter for the first time. Her skin is pale and clammy, her breathing shallow and labored.

And then I see the chains. Heavy iron shackles bolted to the wall, the metal cutting into the delicate skin of Penny's ankles. I'm going to be sick.

"Oh god," I choke out, my hands shaking as I try to support her weight.

That's when I feel it - a warm, sticky sensation spreading across my palm where it's pressed against Penny's stomach. I look down and feel the air leave my lungs in a rush.

Blood. So much blood, seeping through her filthy dress and coating my trembling fingers.

"No, no, no," I cry, panic clawing at my throat. "Penny, you have to stay awake baby. You gotta stay awake for me, Penny!"

I lay her gently back on the mattress, tapping at her chest, her cheeks, trying desperately to get a response. But her eyes stay closed, her little face slack and unmoving.

"Nope, come on, Pen," I plead, picking her back up into my arms, my voice breaking on a sob. "Open your eyes, baby. You have to stay awake."

I cradle her against my chest as I frantically look around the room for something, anything to get these fucking chains off her. I desperately pull at the chains thinking somehow, I can rip them off this fucking wall.

"DAMIEN!" I scream, my voice raw with terror. "HELP ME! SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME!"

I hear pounding footsteps, then Damien is bursting through the doorway. He takes one look at Penny and turns white.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathes, dropping to his knees beside us. "He killed her?"

"The chains!" I gasp out, nodding towards the shackles. "We have to get them off, Damien! GET THE FUCKING CHAINS OFF!"

Damien nods, leaping to his feet and racing out of the room, shouting for Rome, for bolt cutters, for a fucking hacksaw if that's what it takes.

I clutch Penny tighter, rocking her back and forth as I pray to a God I'm not even sure I believe in anymore.

"Stay with me, baby," I whisper, pressing desperate kisses to her clammy forehead, shaking her violently now. "Come on, Penny."

"Please, Penny. Please don't leave me. Not now, not when I just got you back. Please, baby girl. Open your eyes."