I'm pretty sure if they could have my eyes would have bulged and fell right out of my head.

Everything was a blur.

I remember not being able to breathe and desperately trying to grab something as I was dragged somewhere.

I opened my eyes abruptly, clawing above the surface, I couldn't breathe, I gasped and coughed, water filling my lungs. Why was water filling my lungs? I'm pretty sure I was crying but being underwater-there's no proof or evidence of that. Finally the hand around my neck was gone and I sat up coughing and spluttering, loving the feel of being able to breathe. I was disorientated and confused, unsure of how I got from the front door into a bathtub...the filthy bathtub.

"Have you learnt your lesson?" The ogre growled at me, he was closely by the edge of the tub, towering over me like a beast. I opened my mouth to say a million things that were running through my head. Learnt my lesson for what? What lesson? What happened? But before I could answer he shoved my head back down, I struggled and I fought, clawing at him, letting my nails really do a number on his arm. My chest began to get heavy and ache, I knew I had to exhale, I had to let the air out but I knew there would be no inhale after that to balance it out so I held it in, my ribs feeling like they were going to burst with the pressure.

Finally I exhaled and as if life (instead of constantly kicking me while I'm down) was on my side he lifted me back out of the water again, pulling me over the side of the tub and letting me fall messily to the hard floor underneath. I smacked my knee pretty hard but I was too busy gasping for air to care.

"Don't fucking defy me" he screamed pulling my head up by my hair.

"O-okay" I stuttered, on the verge of peeing myself with fear, he let my hair go and began pacing the floor, I swallowed hard and sunk against the floor, feeling well and truly exhausted. My eyelids began to close and at first I fought to keep them open but today had taken the energy one meal in three days had supplied me and I couldn't fight anymore, I surrendered and closed my eyes.

"Going somewhere?" Blood dripped from his nose and a slash on his forehead, his shirt was torn and he had no shoes on, but the thing that scared me most was the smirk on his face, the cold, dead smirk on his dirty face, his blue eyes were ice, boring into me, making me literally shudder and all I could think was.

Oh shit. This is it.

There wasn’t time to think, only time to act. All rational thoughts aside—all thinking aside, I lunged at him. He stumbled backwards, twisting his ankle and falling to the ground, there wasn’t any time to celebrate his downfall. I kicked him in the stomach, just because I could and as I welcomed rational thoughts back I began running down the street, barefoot and in boxers and a long shirt. What was I saying about rational thoughts?

“Help!” I screamed, if I could alert someone, I could get them to call the police and I could save Mike and Vic too. “Help me!” I screamed again at the top of my lungs, a few people turned and looked at me but immediately after—turned away. I was getting angry, why was everyone being so ignorant.

“Sir, s-sir!” I approached a man with a bushy moustache, he looked rich and stuck up and I didn’t know if he was the right person to approach but I was desperate. I didn’t care. “Excuse me, there’s a man and he-“

“Listen, young lady.” He looked down his nose at me, like I was filth—in all fairness, I was. “I don’t mingle with your type comprende?” his tone was sharp and I wondered what he was referring to. Your type...what is my type? And then it hit me—he knows, how does he know?

“I’m not asking you for sex you fucking pervert. I need help!” I yelled, earning a few people to turn their heads and scowl at me but I bet my life on the fact they’d never intervene. People are ignorant, unwilling to intervene and potentially help someone who’s in desperate need of it. Some call it being polite, you know, staying out of other people’s business, keeping yourself to yourself and your head down—I call it cowardice. I’m not a saint, I’m nothing special, I’m not even a nice person, but I know one hundred per cent that if someone needed my help—I’d fucking help them.

“I’ve seen you patrolling these streets, preying on men with big wallets, you don’t think people see and to be fair, most don’t. But I do” his words stabbed through my chest, puncturing through everything on its onslaught, I swallowed hard. I ran my fingers through my hair tugging a little as tears formed in my eyes. “Don’t turn on the water works with me, it simply will not work” and without a second thought, I slapped him, it wasn’t fierce or hard but it was a slap nonetheless—shit, I had to get out of here, I had to save Vic and Mike.

So I ran, I couldn’t believe it but instead of running away like the house was on fire, like I could if I really wanted to, I headed back to the place I didn’t know if I’d leave alive or not.

The front door was still wide open, but the ogre was gone and Vic was no longer laid unconsciously just before the threshold. My heart felt like it fell out of my ass. Where could he be possibly be?

There's two ways I could've gone about it, charge in there, screaming bloody murder, alert the ogre, find Mike and Vic and get out of there. Or creep in there unnoticed and find Mike and Vic and get out of there.

I went with the latter

At that moment I was thanking the lord that I had no shoes on to make a lot of noise with. My heart thumped harder and harder the further into the house I got. Every single sound was too loud, every sound was amplified and I was sure someone was going to jump out at me. I was so on edge, I thought the stress was going to give me a heart attack. Taking a shaky breath I headed towards the staircase, hesitating for a second to see if I could hear anything—I couldn't.

The kitchen door was still wide open but there was no sign of unconscious Mike. My heart ached, where had he taken Mike and Vic? I hoped they were okay, it was so unfair for them to get caught up against there will in something their sick father continuously carried out. My breathing was beyond uneven and I wanted to drop to my knees and give up, but I knew that wasn't an option.

My heart stopped, sinking southwards as someone snaked one arm around my waist and their other hand around my mouth. Of course the natural thing to do in that situation is scream—and so I did. It was muffled and silenced by his hand, I kicked backwards and tried to elbow him with my right arm—that wasn't pinned to my side by his arm snaked round me—I knew what was coming, I'd never get out of here if I let him put me back into that room.

I fought frantically trying to get out of his grasp but he was strong and I was a baby deer in comparison. My limbs were growing tired, rejecting any movements I made, I began to go limp.

I opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep and scanning the room, no no no—I'd exited one nightmare and I was stuck in the reality of another. I was back in the god forsaken room again, only this time I was soaked to the skin and metal chains with cuffs on the end chained me to the wall. I could have sobbed, I could have struggled, tested the strength of the metal, screamed for freedom. But what would have been the point? I'd learnt it never got me anywhere.

"Hi.." A newly familiar voice broke me from my self pity.

"Mike" I breathed, I hadn't even realized he was standing there - how long had he been stood there for? He looked wary and shameful, I furrowed my brows at how he was behaving.

"You're okay" it wasn't a question, more of a statement. I was relieved.

"Yeah" he nodded, rubbing the gash on his forehead that still looked really sore.

"And Vic?" I held my breath, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

"He's okay, he's in the hospital getting the glass removed from his head and his wounds bandaged" the way the words fell naturally from his mouth, so casually, made me wonder just how used to all this he was.

"Oh" was all I could manage to reply—seriously oh? No comforting words or sympathy, just oh. Damn, I'm a pathetic excuse for a human. "What happened?" He opened his mouth, hesitating on the words, unsure whether to let them spill from his lips or not because once you've spoken words, they're in the air, and there isn't any single way you can them back.

He walked over to me and I noticed how he still hadn't met my eyes, I grew nervous, what's going on? He reached me and sat down in front of me, cross legged. It looked strange on him, such a tall guy sitting like a child, it was unorthodox.

"I don't really know, I had him, I really had him" his eyes glazed over as if he was trying his best efforts to recall every fine devilish detail. "Then all of a sudden everything went black. When I gained consciousness Vic was splayed by the front door, you were nowhere in sight and my dad was groaning in pain on the front lawn." He shook his head like the whole scenario didn't make sense to him, like he couldn't comprehend the circumstances at all, as if they were far too complex and his brain capacity was far too small. "I ran over to Vic, I remembered you saying you felt a pulse, I tried to wake him and he wouldn't wake, he'd lost lots of blood, I tried to wake him and I couldn't, but I tried, I promised I tried" his voice mimicked that of a small child who so desperately wanted you to believe him, my heart broke for him. He sighed and continued "My dad began to get up, he told me to take Vic upstairs, I refused, telling him Vic needed a doctor or he'd die, he wouldn't listen. He wouldn't fucking listen."

"So how did you get Vic to the hospital?" I jumped in, too eager to hear the rest of the story.

"I ignored him and took him anyway" he shrugged

"Just like that?" I failed to believe that there wasn't a catch in there somewhere. Humans always have a condition or a catch.

"Yeah. I paid the price, but it was worth it" and finally his eyes locked on mine and something deep within them told me I wasn't going to like what he was going to say.

"Paid the price, how?" I gulped. He looked down, ashamed. And I knew instantly what he was going to say, in my gut, I could feel it, I knew I wouldn't like it and I didn't.

"You didn't...please tell me you didn't..." I shook my head as if the simple action would dissolve the scenario and plant me somewhere different. I could die right now, for something beautiful to take me somewhere else.

"Please Mike, fucking tell me you didn't agree to work for your dad and be at his every beck and call"

He shrugged, looking as helpless as I felt. Oh fuck.

What now?

Notes

DunNnNnNn - what's going to happen?
Poor Victor
Poor EVERYONE
HAIL MARY, FORGIVE ME

Let me know what you think, please :)

Also, let me know if the anticipation or mystery gets boring!

You are all wonderful!