Black Rose

The Rules.

Trigger warning: chapter contains intense violence.

He walked slowly, climbing the stairs with an air of anticipation. "You shouldn't have done that, my rose. Now I'm mad."

I tried to open the door again, but it didn't budge. I was trapped, with no way out, and my panic only increased the further he climbed up the stairs, his fingers drumming against the wall as he walked.

I tried to put on a facade of anger, holding the knife out towards him and spitting, "Don't you date come any closer or I'll put this knife through your chest."

He just shook his head and continued climbing towards me.

"You know, I think it's about time I tell you the rules of living here, my rose." He said, his voice hard.

I held out the knife hopelessly trying to keep him away, but my hands were shaking so bad they he just reached out and plucked the blade from them without any effort.

I gulped.

He was at arms reach now, his face twisted in a look of disappointment. I pressed myself against the door, willing myself to disappear. It didn't work.

He stepped even closer, and leant in so he could whisper into my ear.

"Rule number one. Don't piss me off."

Without warning, he spun me around and wrapped his arms around my chest, then lifted my body off from the floor and he threw me over his shoulder. I struggled and screamed but he just held on tighter.

He carried me down the stairs, ignoring my cries for help, and back across the room to the corridor. The knife of fear twisted in my chest when he walked past the bedroom door, heading towards the door I hadn't seen behind.

Facing backwards, I couldn't see the room until he stepped into it. He maneuvered me off his shoulder and came just short of dropping me on a bare concrete floor.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the room around me. Metal hooks hung from various places in the walls and ceiling. In one corner of the room stood a black pole reaching all the way from the floor to the ceiling. A wooden table stood in another corner of the room, covered in loops and rings. In the opposite corner, a stark contrast from the rest of the room, a lavish, four-poster bed sat, covered in velvety red fabric. The whole room was lit by harsh lights set into the ceiling, and along one wall was rows upon rows of shut cupboards. There was another door on the opposite side of the room, and something told me that I would dread knowing what was behind it.

I took it all in, fear coursing through my veins. The room was like something out of my nightmares, straight from a horror movie catered for all kinds of torture.

The man slammed the door shut behind us and stood over me, a dark look on his face.

"Get up." He spat at me. My lip trembled and I just stared. When I didn't get up fast enough, he grabbed my arm and roughly wrenched me to my feet. I let out a yelp as he leaned in close to my ear once more.

"Rule number two. Do as I say, when I say it." He said, then started pushing me into the middle of the room.

He let me go and crossed his arms. "Take off your clothes."

I stared at him, shocked, wondering if he was joking. He pursed his lips.

"Now, Rose. Rule number two." He said, his voice cold. Not wanting to annoy him further, I hastily took off my shoes and pants, leaving on my underwear, and pulled my shirt over my head, before crossing my arms across my chest to hide my bra from view.