Black Wedding by Emma Luna

Idon’t know how long I sleep for, but I am woken up by Vinnie gently pushing against my arm. He is trying to shake me awake without hurting me. Sadly, no matter how hard he tries, the pain is excruciating. Even the softest touch against my arm feels like he is stabbing a knife into me. My head pounds like claps of thunder, and just the slightest movement sends ripples of nausea through my stomach.

“Here, have a bit of water, please. Just some sips,” Vinnie whispers as he tips the bottle into my mouth.

As soon as the cold liquid hits my lips, I open my mouth to devour more, desperately gulping it down. But my fragile body can’t seem to process too much water in one go, and nausea rips through me again. I start to gag, and Vinnie instantly backs away, splashing water down my chest due to the sudden movement. He looks around the room frantically, he looks torn, as if seeing the bucket in the corner for the first time.

The bucket is all they left me to use as a toilet, but thankfully, I haven’t needed to go. Not that I could move my body enough to get to the damn bucket. Vinnie looks to be weighing his options over which he finds more disgusting; picking up the bucket he thinks I have used as a toilet or watching me vomit all over myself and the floor.

Thankfully, he makes his mind up quickly and tentatively heads for the bucket. When he sees it is clean and unused, he immediately picks it up and holds it at an angle beside my head. He makes it just in time as my body quickly regurgitates the water Vinnie gave me, along with some not so pleasant green bile streaked with brown and black colours. Vinnie stands as far away as possible whilst still being able to hold the bucket for me.

His eyes are firmly shut and stay that way as I continue to wretch, although nothing more comes up. When the retching stops, Vinnie finally opens his eyes. “Oh fuck, should it be that colour?” he asks while covering his mouth with his opposite hand. He places the bucket next to me and moves away from it. He looks like he is trying to control his breathing so he doesn’t vomit.

“It’s blood. Chances are, I am bleeding internally. I feel like my body is trying to shut down, Vin. My heart is racing, but my body aches. My fingers are blue, which means blood isn’t getting to them. I was desperate for water yet vomited it back up because I couldn’t cope with it. Slowly, my organs will fail, this dizziness will overtake me, and I will pass out. If I don’t get control of the pain and get into theatre soon, I will die,” I explain. The more I speak, the more exhausted I become. My head rests against my arm that went numb ages ago. I can feel it’s cold and a bit clammy, yet another sign. I desperately try to keep my eyes open; it’s vital now. If I close my eyes I may never open them again.

“Bree, listen to me,” Vin says as he gently taps my arm again. I must have zoned out. “I did what you said. I’m sure Liam will be here soon, your plan was great and you know he will come for you. I will do what I can until then. Your dad is going to make the follow-up call in a couple of minutes. He has no idea Liam will know it’s a trap, but it will be easier for Liam to break in if fewer people are here. Also, I went through Luther’s stash and found a fentanyl patch. It’s strong, but it should take away some of the pain until I get you to the hospital. I need to put it somewhere that Luther won’t see it and take it off.”

His eyes rake over my body, but not in the sexualised way I am used to with men. For him, it is purely practical, yet that doesn’t stop the slight blush that creeps up onto his cheeks when he makes eye contact with me again.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Put it on my hip. Pull up my dress, and I will show you,” I instruct, but he doesn’t move. Glaring at him with a serious expression, or at least as much as I can muster under my current condition, I give him my consent. “You have to do it, and quickly before we get caught. Just pretend you aren’t looking at my bare ass if that helps.”

His dark chuckle takes me by surprise. “I will try, but you do have a nice ass,” he says as he starts to pull my skirt up. My dress isn’t big and poofy, more free-flowing like a waterfall. Still, it is not the easiest to get up, mainly since I can’t move around to help.

After a few minutes of struggling, I stop him. “It’s going to be easier if you pull it down from the front. They are already ripped.”

Wide eyes stare back at me. “If...if I-I do that, your t-tits will come out,” he mutters, and I can’t stop the short snicker.

“Don’t worry. As long as I get them covered straight after, I will be fine. It’s a small price to pay if I want to get help with the pain.” Every word I speak is laboured and barely above a whisper.

Without another word, Vin grabs hold of the top of the dress and gently shimmies it down until my right ass cheek is exposed. I am lying on my left hip, so there is no way of getting it down any further, but this is far enough. Vin is respectfully trying not to look at my exposed breasts, making my respect for him go up.

Using my hand, I guide him and tell him exactly where to put the patch. He quickly sticks it on, hiding the backing in his hoodie pocket. Then, as he tries to pull the dress back up again, a loud thundering voice fills the room.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” shouts Luther as he eyes the situation. Now that the patch is on, it should start working soon. Even if someone chooses to expose me, I don’t think they will be looking at my outer hip. Besides, he placed it over one of my tattoos, and the brightness of the design will make it difficult to notice the patch. I wait patiently to feel even just the slightest bit of relief.

Vinnie freezes, looking at me with his eyes wide open, like a kid who has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. If I don’t think quickly, this asshole will kill Vinnie just because he suspects something.

“Get your hands off me, you pervert. Put your hand near my pussy again, and I will chop it off myself. Then your dick will be next,” I growl, schooling my face into a look of anger and hoping Vinnie can play along. At first, he looks confused, but then he looks over at the grin spreading across Luther’s face, and he realises what I am doing.

“Shut the fuck up!” he barks at me. It almost sounds believable, except for the slight shake of his voice at the beginning. He stands and looks towards Luther. “Just showing her who is boss, that’s all.”

Luther’s demented cackle sounds like a stereotypical Halloween villain. Obviously, Art wasn’t the only one who liked drugs because Luther looks high as a kite at the moment. He seems very unstable, and I want him as far away from Vinnie and me as possible. The only problem with that is, I’m not sure I can have both.

“Look at you, little gangster. How is her pussy? Is she wet? Girls like her always get wet in situations like this,” he says like he knows what women like. Fucking idiot.

Despite looking like a deer trapped in headlights, Vin manages to answer him. “I didn’t get that far since you interrupted.”

“I’m not stopping you. I won’t tell anyone if you want a little feel,” Luther chirps, his wide, dark eyes staring at me. It’s as though he is hoping that his gaze will burn away what’s left of my wedding dress until his view is unobstructed.

“No way,” Vinnie states, taken aback by Luther’s comment. “No way I’m messing around with a girl while you watch, you sick fucker.”

Vinnie stands firm, but Luther takes slow, purposeful strides towards him. Each step is like a predator stalking his prey, and once he has him in arms reach, he fists his shirt into his hands and pulls him close enough to whisper in his ear, but I could still hear. “Then get out of my way so I can have some fun.”

As soon as the words are out of Luther’s mouth, he pushes Vinnie away towards the open door before stalking over to me. In an instant, he grabs hold of my body and roughly moves me into position. He has me lying on my back with my knees bent. Luckily, the tightness of the dress  helps me keep my legs together as I look over at Vinnie with fear in my eyes. His eyes are darting around like he has no idea what to do.

I can’t even begin to explain the pain I feel in my body as Luther moves me. The fentanyl patch must be working as it feels as though it takes the edge off a bit, but not completely. As I try to catch my breath, desperately gasping for more air that doesn’t seem to be coming, Luther takes advantage. He takes a knife out of his back pocket, and I see Vinnie take a step back, his eyes wide with fear, which I am sure is equally reflected in mine.

He slices through my dress using the knife, right down the middle, and I wince when the blade cuts my skin. I would say accidentally, but by the look on Luther’s face, it wasn’t an accident. The dress falls open to reveal bloody lines down my cleavage and stomach. His expression turns from violent to hungry. He stares at my bruised and battered naked body that is covered in blood like he wants to devour it.

Kneeling in between my legs, he forces them apart. I try to fight him, but I am struggling to even lift my arms. I shout at him violently, making it clear that I will kill him if he touches me, but he just chuckles.

“Dude, I’m not sure we should be doing this. Vernon gave us clear instructions. We aren’t supposed to touch her. He will be back soon,” Vinnie mutters, and I smile at him. I know it won’t do any good, but I am so grateful for him trying to help. I wish there was some way to tell him to leave me here. I don’t want him to have to see this. He can’t save me now. Nothing can.

“Fuck that, if I want her then I will take the bitch. Fuck what Vernon says. You are lucky I am giving you permission to touch her. I plan on slicing up this sexy body, piece by piece, as I fuck her. Make her bleed and scream, just like she did to my brother,” Luther screeches, fury rippled across his face. Vinnie’s eyes are wide as saucers, like it has only now dawned on him how truly fucked I am.

Thankfully, the darkness begins to overtake me, and I start to feel incredibly sleepy. Maybe the fentanyl is finally kicking in, or my body is possibly shutting down. I’m not sure I care which it is anymore.

A sharp slap across my cheek brings me firmly back to the present, as the pain gives me a slight adrenaline rush. My cheek stings, my lip is cut open again, but they are the least of my problems. I look down to see Luther staring at my exposed pussy, his knife trailing lazily up and down my thighs.

“Don’t pass out yet, bitch. I have big plans for you, and you are going to endure them all. I saw Art’s body, covered in slices, and that is exactly what I am going to do to you,” he spits as he drags the blade along the inside of my thigh. He starts at my knee and pulls upwards until it stops just before my bikini line. The cut stings lightly, but I’m guessing the patch is killing my pain, or my body is just numb to all the pain it is going through. It’s only a flesh wound, but blood leaks out anyway, running down my leg.

Luther looks mesmerised by the blood trailing down towards my shaved public area, and he repeats the process on the other thigh. I don’t scream, there’s no point. It’s just a waste of precious energy and breath. I’m still struggling to breathe, having to take small pants to get even just a bit of oxygen, and screaming would cause me more pain and damage than the knife ever could.

“Luther, come on, man. I don’t wanna get in trouble,” Vinnie grumbles, and I take my opportunity.

“Then go, coward. Get out of here. He isn’t going to stop, so just get out,” I force out in between breaths. It takes me longer than it should to get each sentence out. Vinnie looks at me, tears in his eyes as he contemplates what to do. I give him a small smile to let him know I am okay with him going.

“Fuck, no. You aren’t going to miss the best bit. I wanna see how much she is enjoying this,” Luther asserts, making it clear that Vinnie is not allowed to leave.

“Just remember that everything you do to me, I will return to you tenfold,” I threaten, very aware there is not much more I can do in my current state.

Luther just laughs sadistically before taking his knife and putting it down at the side of him. He doesn’t even question if this is safe or not. He knows I can’t move, and he doesn’t even suspect Vinnie is not on his side. Plus, he would notice if Vinnie suddenly lunged for it. Although, I see Vin considering it, and I stare at him, hoping he can read the massive no I am throwing his way with my eyes. He looks down, and I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Sadly, my lungs can’t cope with that, and a dry, hacking cough starts. Tears stream down my eyes as my lungs begin to burn, and it feels like I am drowning with no air. Vinnie drops to his knees beside my head and gives me some water from the bottle he brought in earlier. He only lets me have a couple of sips this time, but it’s enough to stop the hacking.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Luther asks, looking at Vinnie with disgust.

“I don’t want her to die before you get your chance with her,” he rushes out, sounding a little unsure as to whether or not that was the answer Luther was looking for.

The tension in the air is palpable, and when Luther finally smiles, Vinnie lets out the huff of breath he was holding. Luther then wastes no time in getting back to what he was doing.

Using his cold, calloused fingers, he parts my pussy lips before sliding a finger down my slit and then back up. He gets no response, and I know my pussy is as dry as the Sahara desert, but that doesn’t stop him. He prods around at the top of my hood; I’m assuming he is trying to find my clit, and failing. Giving up quickly, he slides his finger back down the slit again before roughly shoving two fingers into my hole.

I cry out in pain as his fingers roughly penetrate me, and the sensation of skin on skin, chafing and ripping is excruciating. “You like that, don’t you, bitch? I told you she would. All bitches like it rough. You just gotta show them who’s boss,” Luther says proudly to Vinnie, who is trying to look anywhere but at the assault happening in front of him.

Obviously, I don’t bother to reply. Luther is living in his own little world if he thinks there is any chance of me enjoying this abuse. However, he continues to pump his fingers rough and deep into my pussy. Each time it feels like a new part of my inside is tearing, and I have actually reached the point where I am begging to get wet just so a bit of lubrication would make this hurt less.

“Tell me you like it, bitch!” he shouts. Before I have a chance to answer, he takes his free hand and simultaneously slaps his hand on my nipples, one after the other. It stings like fuck, but when he hits the second one, where the possibly broken ribs are, the pain is immense. Black spots start to invade my vision, and the whole situation seems so far away.

I know I need to stay away, to fight, but I can’t. So, why not let the darkness take me, so I don’t even have to know what he forces me to endure.

Just as the darkness is starting to take me, Luther slaps me awake again. “Is this what you want?” he asks as he takes my hair roughly into his hand, fists it tightly before pulling my chin against my chest so that I can look down at what he is doing to me.

The first thing I notice is my body has various shades of bruising. There is blood and dirt smeared all over me, and I’m covered in cuts. I try to ignore my exposed tits, hating how he has pulled on the nipples until they are taut. When my gaze finally reaches my open legs and waiting pussy, I see that Luther has taken his fingers out, but he is now preparing his cock.

Sat between my legs, Luther opens his jeans, pulls out his cock, and strokes it with his free hand. He didn’t have much to work with before, but it appears to be growing a bit. His under average-sized penis says an awful fucking lot about Luther. No wonder he is so fucking angry; he is overcompensating.

Apparently, because my body doesn’t know whether it is coming or going, I didn’t exactly think of that last comment. Instead, I voiced it out loud. Luther doesn’t take too kindly to having someone he is about to fuck insult the size of his cock. Without hesitation, he slaps me again, and before I have time to register the pain from that impact, he begins hitting my stomach.

Pain explodes throughout my body, and darkness begins to consume me. With every punch, it becomes harder to breathe. Those telltale spots float into my vision once more, and I’m sure I start hearing things. My imagination is making me think things are happening that aren’t, and I am so confused that my brain quite literally hurts.

I am imagining Liam bursting in here to rescue me, him taking me far away from here. I pray to a God I haven’t spoken to in a long time, one I am made to talk to at religious holidays only. Most of that is because my mother wants to keep up appearances with the church ladies, but now, while I am at my closest to death, I reach out to him. I pray for him to save me, to help Liam to find me. But most of all, I pray that I don’t die. I want to live. I want to live my life with Liam. Unfortunately, at this moment, that is not looking likely.

I feel like my brain is playing tricks on me, that the lights flashing in front of my eyes are more than just the manifestation of my pain. A loud but distant bang sounds, my brain tells me it sounds like gunshots, and that’s when I know I must be hallucinating. I hear a commotion and look over at the door, struggling to keep my eyes open.

A large dark figure stands in the doorway, and I can’t help but smile. In my final moments, my brain shows me what it looked like the first time I met Liam. When he burst through my bedroom door, blocking the doorway the same as now. Only the last time actually happened. I hear noises from behind me. I know it’s Vinnie, and I try to look behind me to make sure he is okay, forcing my brain to concentrate.

“No...don’t shoot...I’m not the enemy. I swear, I have been t-trying to help her,” Vinnie sobs, and that’s when my brain seems to clear for a moment. This is real.

The realisation that the figure in the doorway really is Liam gives me some renewed hope. I try to call out to him, but I can’t. My breathing is coming in short gasps.

“BREE!” I hear Liam shouting my name as a sharp pain pierces through my abdomen. I look down slightly and see that Luther has plunged his knife right into my stomach on the right side. A piercing scream I didn’t know I could produce leaves my body, almost like I have no control anymore and am just watching from a distance. Then as soon as the pain starts to settle, the darkness begins to descend.

My eyes close, and I hear a gunshot followed by feet pounding closer to me. I can hear Liam, his voice and his sobs. His fingers tentatively touch my body, but as soon as I wince, he backs away. I try to open my eyes, to talk, but I can’t. Coldness slides all over my body, and numbness spreads all over. Liam’s voice as he shouts for an ambulance and his sobs feel like they are becoming distant.

I try to fight, to let him know I am here. I want him to know I am fighting to be with him, but it’s hard. I feel him gently slide his arm under my neck to curl my body up against his. The warmth from his body against my advancing cold and clammy skin feels incredible. I feel his breath against my cheek and wetness from his tears as they leak onto my face.

I want to see him, to take away his pain, but breathing has become too hard.

Everything has become too hard.

The gloominess cascades over me, and this time I can’t stop it.

“I love you, Bree. Please don’t leave me.” Those are the last words I hear before my body gives in, and I can’t fight anymore.

The world goes black.