Pretty Painful by K.A Knight

Dabria

The last thing I remember was dancing with my friends at the new club that had opened across town. I’d had a long ass day at work. Editing historical manuscripts was not how I imagined my life would turn out, but it was a job after all. So, there we were, dancing our stress away. I was drunk and happy and grinding away, and the next thing…nothing. Complete blackness, like a dark spot in my memories. I can’t remember how me dancing turned into…this.

How did I get here?

Where is here?

Who are they?

What do they want?

But most importantly…how do I get free?

Time passes slowly behind the bars of a cage. Without windows, we have no way of knowing whether it’s night or day. The only thing that breaks up the monotony of being stuck in a cage next to twenty other women is their visits. The guards, the ones who are meant to keep us in line—their hands, mouths, and dicks using us in whatever way they see fit.

I fought the first couple of times, but all I got for it was a broken jaw and ribs, and when I was passed out, they fucked me anyway…no, not fucked me. Raped me. Again and again until they realised I wouldn’t scream for them anymore, I wouldn’t fight them anymore. No, I was playing it smart. They wanted reactions, fed on the fear and tears, they loved it, but I refused. I became stoic, retreating into myself, and curling around that flame of hatred and complete, desperate hope to be free. I would do whatever it took to get out of here, even if that meant playing the good little slave.

Eventually, they grew bored with me and turned their attentions onto the other women. Only coming inside now and again to beat me or rough me up, like they were waiting for something to happen. I was forced to watch the horrors inflicted upon the other girls, my heart breaking and my soul fracturing with the pain and utter hopeless destruction shown to them.

One girl died early on, they said she killed herself.

One girl went mad, rocking back and forth, muttering to herself about butterflies and hidden kingdoms.

Another was taken away.

Four were sold, like cattle, paraded around drugged and scared in front of the camera. Their legs were forced open and the camera moved to show their most intimate places, nothing was safe. They even had them bend over and grab their ankles, showing their asses off to the cameras. I stayed strong through it all, never faltering with my plan…until her. That’s when everything changed.

I don’t know if they knew, if they did it on purpose or if it was a happy accident, but when they dragged her—my sister—into the opposite cage, I broke. Like they wanted me to do since day one, I screamed, I begged, and I fought with everything in me. It didn’t make a difference. I stared at her tear-stricken face as we were both pressed up against the bars as close to each other as we could get, our hands extending through, searching for the other. The tips of our fingers almost touching, just out of reach. Always out of reach.

I could feel the storm coming, their attention turning to us, and just like I knew would happen…they came again. They had seen my display, they knew she meant something to me, and they finally had a way to break me—to own and use me. They went straight to her cell, four of them—two outside, watching me, and two inside with her. She cowered into the corner, crying as she screamed my name.

I thrashed, hitting the bars again and again, and I felt the bones crush in my hand, but I kept going with words pouring from my mouth. I begged them, I threatened them, yet it fell on deaf ears. They taunted me, they pulled her from the cell and pushed her face into my bars, we were so close I could touch her. I held onto her cheek, her eyes on mine, filled with tears and fear. She was so scared. Snot dripped from her nose and even though I was losing feeling in my hand, I held on, my other hand seeking hers and weaving our fingers together like we used to when we were kids. This time, I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t save her. This was no bully teasing her for her weight, this was no boy breaking her heart. I was helpless.

My heart shattered all over again as they used her body, pressed against my cage, forcing me to watch as they violated her again and again. Grunting their releases like animals before laughing and pulling out. When they were done, they let her slide down the bars and curl into my cell. Her sobs long since cut off, her eyes raw and red, her clothes lost, and her body abused. Bruises were already marring her pale skin, leaving finger marks on her hips and even cuts on her back, which slowly dripped blood onto the cement floor.

I held her through the bars for as long as I could, singing to her like I had when we were little and she woke up from a bad dream, but she was gone, she wasn’t there anymore. Her eyes were vacant, her soul forced from the husk in front of me. They didn’t kill her, no, they broke her.

I heard my cell door clanging and not sparing them a look, I dropped a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you, bug.”

Forcing myself to stand, I waited in the middle of the cage as two of the men, their pants still unbuttoned, ducked inside with me. Fury like I had never felt before coursed through my veins as the worry and humanity that kept me locked into this life, forcing me to stay alive, fled, until I didn’t care if I lived or I died. All I cared about was taking them with me.

That freedom, that lack of caring, unlocked something in me, and I raced forward, screaming it to them. Time seemed to slow, my body moving as if I was no longer in charge, and the edges of my vision started to blur, like I was in a dream. My hand lifted, but in slow motion I saw the guard in front of me reaching for his gun just as I swiped my hand across his throat. Blood spurted into my face, dripping into my eyes and mouth. I darted my tongue out, tasting the rich copper mixed with…sweetness. It tasted good.

I turned to the other guard and darted out my hand, hitting him in the heart. His face froze, his eyes wide, and he dropped to the floor. I could hear it, his heart had stopped. Shouts came from outside my cell and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw Rach smiling at me with blood in her teeth, and her eyes slightly more alive. I moved through the open cage door and one of the other guards raced towards me. I let him come, I let him impale himself on my hand as it punched through his stomach like butter. He screamed, blood and the smell of shit permeating the air as I pulled back and he dropped to the floor.

Holding my arm out in front of me, I saw the blood coating it, and I couldn’t help myself. I licked it, catching the drips with my tongue and curling it back into my mouth with a groan, my eyes flickering shut for a moment before a scream cut through the haze. Everything came back—the sounds, the smells—and sped up.

I watched in horror as Rach was pulled to her knees with a gun held to her temple from the final guard as he faced me.

“I should have known you would be one of them,” he sneered. “You killed my men. I can’t kill you, but…”

I dropped my eyes to Rachel’s, terror racing through me as I stood frozen on the spot. Her eyes softened and she didn’t even fight the man’s hold, no, she smiled at me. A soft, reassuring one. “Love you, big sis,” she whispered, before a shot rang out and her body jerked out of his grip. Her lifeless eyes stared at me as she fell to the side in a broken heap.

“Nooooo!” I screamed, dropping to my knees before her, lifeless, like a ragdoll. All that fury and power drained away, leaving me alone and cold as I gathered her body in my arms and rocked her, singing to her as tears clogged my throat and dripped from my eyes, landing on her still chest. Bending my head over her body, I held her close, unwilling to let her go.

I heard the door open as more guards spilled into the room, no doubt brought by the gunfire, but I refused to acknowledge them, my whole world narrowed down to my broken baby sister in my arms. I faded out their commands and voices, instead brushing a piece of short brown hair away from her face, and closing each eyelid before leaning down and kissing her cooling forehead. “I love you, baby sis.”

Hands pulled at me, trying to pry me away from her, but I screamed and held on tighter, refusing to let her go. I can’t leave her. I can’t, she needs me. I don’t know if I am talking to them or myself anymore, but when the butt of a gun hits the side of my head and I slump over her body, all I feel is numbness.

Bone-deep cold, the likes of which will never be washed away.

She’s dead, Rachel was dead.