Lachlan's P.O.V.
I stumbled, my knees hitting the ground, the skin peeling off my shins on the concrete floor. I winced but I was resigned to my fate so I didn't have any physical reaction other than that, not wanting to be manhandled around any more than I had to be.
I was used to the cold, damp and heavy concrete halls that never seemed to change, grey, grey and more grey. There were no windows, no doors to the outside and the only people I saw were the ones that came to visit me in the night or pulled me around, pushing me to the ground because they felt like it.
Someone pulled me by my shirt collar back to my feet and forced me to keep walking, their hand on my shoulder to stop me from bolting. I didn't try that anymore, not after what had happened last time.
I kept my head to the ground, never wanting to risk making eye contact with any of my captors or just seem like I was deliberately disobeying them, since I knew exactly what would happen to me. My body ached for days and I couldn't stomach anything to eat for close to a week the last time I made direct eye contact with any of those who held me.
"Move it." He shoved me close to an unopened door, which swung open when he knocked and I was pushed through it.
I sighed. Another empty room, a mattress in the corner, bare walls of a concrete box and damp air that made me wheeze. I was growing steadily more ill as the days passed, but I didn't know how much time had truly passed because there were no clocks.
I scooted myself onto the mattress and curled into the corner. There was nothing I could do to entertain myself in the cold, damp room but it was better than at night when the... visitors... came. I threw up almost every time one of them came.
The only thing that I could do was think about all of the good times before I was taken, the times spent with Vikk. Vikk, my beautiful boyfriend, who helped me through so much and who I loved with my entire heart. I had wondered many times if I would ever see him again and as time passed, the chances grew less likely.
I was doubting whether I would make it out of my living nightmare alive.
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"Get up." The command was sharp and didn't give me a choice. I could barely stand, my legs and stomach were aching and there was a pool of vomit beside the mattress. It hadn't been a good night, but then again there had never been a good night.
I struggled to my feet, stumbling and falling heavily against the wall. The man rolled his eyes, pulling on my shirt collar and tugging me out of the room. I was surprised, they didn't move me often and this was the second time in two days, so something must be happening.
It was disorientating being led down so many halls but there were no markings, no clues as to where we were going ad how they knew which way to go.
I was led through a door and then a leather boot kicked the back of my knees, earning a surprised yelp, and forced me onto my knees in front of another man. It was surprising, this was a common occurrence, being forced to my knees in front of one man or the next.
What was surprising, was how he spoke to me.
"So this is the one they've been trying to get money for." He stepped closer, his hand coming under my chin and forcing me to look up at him. This was against everything that I knew and I tried to tear my gaze away. "No, look at me."
I raised my eyes to meet his, shuddering as his cold eyes stared right into my soul.
"You've trained him well. It's a shame we have to let him go but the money will be of much use, maybe we'll get another like this and keep him if they don't pay the ransom." He was speaking to the man behind me, the one who had forced me to the ground. He turned to me.
