Alena’s Revenge by K.A Knight

Chapter Six

Alena

The door is wrenched open. I don’t even lift my head until ice-cold water is tossed over me, making me gasp as I shudder and curl in on myself. The filth, blood, and cum is washed away as another bucket is thrown over me.

Like a wild animal, I snarl at them, struggling in my chains as I blink through the water to see the two guards standing there. They laugh and ignore me as they glance at each other. “That will do. Get her chained and bring her upstairs, they are waiting,” one orders and storms away, leaving me with a big bastard who marches into my cell.

Even if I could take him, if my body wasn’t dying, what would I do?

He unclips me from the ceiling, and I fall to the floor with a grunt, smacking into the dirty, wet stones with an audible bang. I flip onto my back with a groan, wiggling my toes and hands to get some circulation going, but he grabs me, wrenches me to my feet, and ties my chains together before turning and starting to pull me from my cell.

My legs give way. I don’t have enough energy, and it’s been too long since I’ve used them, so he ends up dragging me down the darkened corridor. What’s happening? Where are we going? I want to ask, but I know I won’t get an answer, so I twist in his grip and yank on the chains. My hips, ass, and legs hit the floor painfully as I struggle.

Threats and words leave my lips as he uses my hands to pick me up before dragging me up the stairs. My hair falls into my eyes, obscuring my vision, and then a door is opened and a bright light hits my face, making me recoil as it blinds me through my greasy locks.

Light… When was the last time I saw light?

I don’t have time to appreciate it though. I’m towed quickly down a corridor. Yelling and laughter reaches me, and then I’m tossed into a darkened room again.

“Fucking waste of supplies,” the man mutters as he glares down at me. He grips my hair and lifts my head, revealing my face. “Such a shame they ruined you.” He chuckles and then unlocks my wrists and steps back.

I struggle to my feet to try and escape, and he laughs like he knows my thoughts. My legs shake and collapse, leaving me helpless as he slams the door shut and takes that last sliver of light with him.

What’s going to happen now?

They have never pulled me from my cell. Is this it? Is this when they try to kill me?

Let them.

* * *

I don’t knowhow long I’m left in here, but I force myself to stretch and walk, no matter how often I fall. I do star jumps and try to complete some push-ups, but my arms shake and give out.

I’m too weak.

I used to love working out, being strong. Fuck, I was a weightlifter, now look at me. Disgusted, I search the room, finding a tray of food and water. I force myself to eat the stale bread and cold stew. It’ll provide the nutrients my body needs to get my revenge.

After eating, I piss in the corner like an animal and then continue to stretch. I don’t stop moving, forcing my limbs to work normally again, even if they do shake slightly. Eventually, I tire and sit down, not wanting to use all my energy. I’m going to need it to get free.

About ten minutes later, the door opens again, and I jump to my feet as quickly as I can. Without even looking, I throw myself at them, fighting and biting like a wild animal. It takes all four of them to restrain me. Panting, I hang between them at an awkward angle.

“Fucking wild cunt bit me,” one of them snarls.

“If the boss knew we almost got taken down by this twat…” Another groans.

“Shut up, let’s just get her to the pit,” another replies, and they become quiet. I relax in their grip, not wanting to hurt myself. They are taking me somewhere—the pit? What’s that? I guess I’ll find out. Maybe there will be a chance to escape then.

I’m lifted and carried down the corridor, down more stairs, and manoeuvred through more twists and turns than I can count. The voices and laughter grow louder, music too, which pumps through the walls and floors in time with my racing heart.

I’m thrown through a door with a rising metal gate. It slams shut behind me, and I hear cheers. Spinning, I push to my feet, and my mouth drops open as I look up and around.

I’m in a dirt pit, a literal pit. Concrete walls, at least twenty feet high, circle the space. There are blood, nail marks, and stains across the grey cement that make me swallow in fear. But it’s the people that have me shuffling backwards nervously. What is this?

There are stands, chairs, sofas, and loungers circling the pit in tiered seating, which are all filled with women in fancy dresses and men in suits. Jewels sparkle on their necks, ears, and hands. Their hair is perfectly done and styled, and their makeup is impeccably applied.

Chandeliers hang from the ceiling as the music switches to something more upbeat. Champagne and wine are served on small trays by naked women with collars around their necks. I spot a few more seated on the floor like dogs in front of couples, men, and even an older woman.

Bile rises in my throat. It’s a fucking party… and it looks like I’m the entertainment.