Serina Accardi had everything, and wanted for nothing. Her brother gave her whatever she desired, but kept the parts of her destined world out of her reach.
Until she lost everything in one night to a man who's eyes looks like the devils wrath.
Th...
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I had passed out again—unsurprisingly. Turns out getting round the clock TORTURE does that to a person. I wasn't quite sure at which part I blacked out but I knew Kye was muttering on about his big evil plan and yada yada yada.
I simply said "I don't give a fuck" before my lights turned off and I was out of service like the McDonald's Ice cream machine.
Speaking of ice cream I was fucking hungry as a whale, but I mean I didn't expect to be fed anymore then a bowl of plain unseasoned rice. But was it just me or did rice only taste good with like soy sauce or some other garments—plain rice is like eating a whole booty hole.
However when I woke I wasn't tied to the chair anymore, oh no—I was chained to a metal pole on the other side of the room.
"Oh so now I'm supposed to shake my ass and strip?" I yelled at the top of my lungs, as the words echoed around the boxed room. I had no clue why they moved me, maybe because they finally found the consideration in their hearts
Fucking doubt it.
"Should I shake my ass or do the splits first?" I yelled again when I got no answer. However I did have a decent ass, And I could throw it back quite nicely—but if I even attempted to do the splits I would have to spilt my way to the emergency room.
My vagina would rip open.
"You are a fucking menace."A voice yelled through the darkness just as the lights of the room came flickering on.
The room looked exactly like I expected it too, grey walls stained with blood, and the cement had cracks and holes in it. Rat shit littered everywhere I could see and Puddles of water sat festering in hair and faeces.
I gaged. I am quaking.
How the fuck am I finding humour in this, I am a fucked up person. Or maybe whatever million diseases live in this torture room have reached my brain. Maybe I've gone mental, maybe if I act fucking crazy they will let me go.
"I know." I answered loud enough for whoever was listening to hear as I fought to keep my head up so I could glance around the room.
But that's when freezing cold water spray down on me causing me to jerk forward as a man sprayed me with a power washer.
It felt like Needles on my skin, and it made my various cuts burn as it washed away the dirt that covered them.
I put my hands up in defence as it showered down on me—soaking my skin and hair. "Stop it bitch." I growled but not surprisingly it didn't stop until I was drenched.
My breath was heavy as I looked up, my water covered eyelashes blurred my vision however.
A man stood there, his face stiff and hard. His body even more stoic. "You are lucky that I haven't carved your tongue out." the man growled as I he took out his gun and my stomach clenched.
