Anastasia

Twenty Three

Lincoln's POV

I woke up, feeling cold. All around me, on the ground, the air. Everything was cold.

I groaned at the raging headache I had and slowly opened my eyes. I could barely see anything, at all.

There was a small light bulb hanging above me that gave off some light. My wrists were chained to a small wall.

I had some slack on it, but not a lot. I could maybe make it halfway across this small room and that was about it.

I was ontop of some old ratted blankets in a small room made out of concrete.

I shivered in the chill of the room, only wearing fucking pants. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up and looked around.

In the center of one of the walls, there was a door. The door had a small window, it reminded me of the doors you would see at a psychiatric ward.

I stood and walked, to see how far I could go from the wall, and my theory was correct.

I just made it to the center of the room. I sat back down and pushed myself up against the wall and curled into myself for heat.

I closed my eyes when suddenly the door opened. I looked up as Maxell walked in.

Little shit.

He tossed a plate of food down along with a water bottle. I slowly grabbed them and pulled them towards me.

The food on the plate was a slice of bread, and two slices of a cucumber. I sighed and ate one of the cucumber slices, savouring it.

I wasn't sure when he'd feed me next, so I chose to savour the food, although this could be poisoned.
"Is it too cold for you in here?"
He asked, walking over to a fireplace I hadn't noticed in the shadows.

I remained silent, glaring at him. I was still trying to figure out why he has taken me, instead of Anastasia.

I was thankful he hadn't taken Anastasia obviously, but what was he planning?

He turned the fireplace on and the flame flickered.
"Hm. It should heat up, but not quite fast enough huh?"
He questioned and I eyed him suspicously.

He grabbed a metal rod and stuck it into the flame, waiting for it to heat up. I remained silent as he left it in the flame, walking over to me.

He took my plate of food away and glared down at me. I glared back and he sighed, walking away and grabbing the rod from the flame.

It was burning red and my jaw clenched as he approached me.
"You want your trademark burned into you, hm?"
He asked waving the burning marking rod in the air.

The rod at the end was shaped into an 'S', for 'Smith'. I used ones similar to it when torturing people, often.

"Just to, heat you up."
He added and I didn't move. He shoved the rod against against my left shoulder and I hissed, glaring at him.

He removed it from my flesh and tossed it back towards the fire. He kicked my plate of food back to me then left the room, leaving me alone.

I glanced at the still burning fire, that was heating up the room. I ignored the searing pain on my shoulder and stared at the flames of the fire.

**

The fire had burned out. I was guessing it had been three hours since Maxwell was in here.

The door opened and I looked up at Maxwell; speak of the devil much.

He was followed by two other men, clearly older and bigger than him.
"How are you this fine evening?"
He asked with a smirk and I remained silent.

I glared at him and he sighed.
"Since your wife is going to be weak right now, I'm going to take over the mafia and you're going to become my punching bag as I kill your family."
He explained with an amused grin and I laughed, causing his grin to disappear.

"You're just a boy. You're weak. Believe me, you wont be taking anything over and I'll be six feet underground before you lay a finger on my family."
I hissed and he glared at me.

The two other men approached me and the one punched me, causing my head to jerk to the side.

The other grabbed my jaw roughly and made me face Maxwell.
"I wouldn't doubt me if I were you."
He hissed and I scoffed.
"My people are going to come here, and they are going to kill you."
I spat and Maxwell smirked.

"But will they find us? Do you know where we are?"
He asked me and I glared at him.
"Not in the UK, I'll tell you that. So tell me again how they'll find us."
He added and a smirk appeared on my face.

"You have a marking rod, this place is obviously for torture. I know because I own every fucking property. So, wherever we are, whatever this is, I own it. So very soon my people are going to find us, because you are a stupid teenager, who is supposed to work under my name."
I hissed and he glared at me, but we both knew I was right.

"You're a smart bastard. But you're wrong."
He lied, not looking directly at me.
"Your mother is going to lose another loved one."
I hissed and he punched my nose, hard.

The man released me and I cupped my nose as blood began to pour from it.

"You stupid bastard."
Maxwell spat and I glared at him as they left the room, leaving me alone once more.

My blood dripped out of my hands and onto my chest. I clenched my jaw as I sat there, blood dripping everywhere.

How much longer would I have to wait before I had a perfect opportunity to escape, or for my people to come save me?

I curled into myself for heat as I tried to ignore the pain in my face and shoulder. I needed a way out of here soon.

If my people couldn't find me soon enough, I'd find a way to escape. I kept my hands on my nose, trying to restrict the blood from flowing onto me.

I let my mind wander and my thoughts went to Anastasia, right away. Was she ok? Had Enid and John found her?

All these questions and concerns raced through my mind and I sighed. Soon enough I would kill Maxwell.

I didn't plan on torturing him. He was still a kid, but he deserved to die. So I'd make his death quick and painless, but he would die no matter what.