DEAD WOMAN WALKING (THE BLOOD IN MY VEINS #1)

THE BASEMENT - PT TWO

twelve | THE BASEMENT PART TWO

TIME SEEMED LIKE AN IMPOSSIBLE CONCEPT in the numbingly cold room. Mia had tried an ungodly amount of times to keep track, but nothing would work. At first, she had attempted to track the days by the number of times she fell asleep, but she soon found that method purposeless as she would fall in and out of consciousness, sometimes within the span of minutes. The Don didn't feed her, so determining the days by meals was impractical. After a while, the men that were supposed to be watching her had left. She figured that they had gotten the order through some wireless chip in their ear, which she had remembered Adriano wearing at a time where she still had her freedom. The Don was cutting her off. No food, no water and no human contact. He wanted to break her, molding her so she had no choice but to work with him, but she would be go through hell and back before she gave up that easily.

The room was very dim, due to the single light that hung on the ceiling of the basement growing weaker and weaker by the second. The room smelled of death, and an unsettling feeling of despair hung in the air. Even in the faint light, she could see bloods splatters that decorated the room. It was clear she wasn't the first—nor would she be the last—to have the displeasure of being inside the four bloodstained walls. The young woman's stomach screamed with hunger, and she was sure her bladder was going to explode. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. She had always willed herself to be a strong person, but the conditions that she was in was not only inhumane, but downright evil. And it scared the daylights out of her. It was dark, she hadn't seen another human being in what seemed like weeks, and the silence was so damn loud. Was she going crazy?

A muffled, gargled scream came from the room next to her, snapping her out of the zombified trance she didn't even know she was in. Her head snapped to the right, eyes wide with fear. A chainsaw roared alive in the room next to her, and the screams became more frantic and downright heartbreaking. Mia's heart rate drastically increased as her breaths became shallow. During the unspecified time she was in the basement, she would occasionally hear the terrifying screams of others she assumed were in a room next to her. The walls were paper thin. She heard it all, the frantic pleading in Italian, the screams... all of it. And it was happening right next to her. She hoped for the people to be alive but she knew deep down in her heart that was not the case. She had a feeling the Don did this on purpose, to scare her into submission. She would take the silence over the screams any day.

          The screams eventually died down. She heard slow, deliberately predatory footsteps leaving the room. The footsteps of which she discovered to be the Don's, who had entered the room through a door she didn't knew even existed. The brute entered the room, holding a large object over his shoulder. His tall frame walked deeper into the th room, dropping the object with a noisy thud. It was a chainsaw. Covered in blood and what looked to believes of bone. Fucking bone. He had just been murdered the person in the other room. Oh God. Mia stared in horror as the man stepped into the dim light.

                    "Oh my God!" She exclaimed, ignoring the hoarseness and whisper sound to her voice. The Don truly looked terrifying. The white shirt he was wearing had bloodstains everywhere. If she didn't know better, she would've thought that the color of the shirt was originally red with white coloring here and there. His dress shirt was unbuttoned all the way to about the middle of his muscular torso, and blood splatters were present on his chest. His arms looked like he had dipped the whole of both of his forearms in red. He looked like a fucking monster. His piercing eyes were dark in the dim light, making him look even more demonic.

                    'He killed him! He fucking killed him! Oh God I'm gonna die-!' Mia tried to regulate her breathing and how scared she looked as the made man walked closer to her chair. She was trembling, but refusing to give this man the pleasure of seeing her that terrified. The older man placed his forefinger under her jaw and his thumb on her chin, lifting her face up to meet his. 'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck–' she thought frantically. The blood from his fingers stained her face. A deadman's blood was on her fucking face.