Content warnings: kidnapping, physical violence, sexual assault, manipulation.

Four months earlier

Most days in the basement blurred together. If it weren't for the small window, she wouldn't know the difference between noon or midnight.

The basement didn't look like much; just a set of gray concrete walls and the same concrete floor. She at least tried to be thankful for a working toilet, a sink with warm water—most of the time—and a pile of books to keep her company. For a few hours every day, she even got to sit in the sunbeam that passed through the small rectangular window close to the ceiling. She basked in the glow from the outside world while her cheeks flushed from the warmth.

In the corner under the stairs there stood another door that led to a windowless room. She let her eyes skim past the door as if it weren't really there. She figured if she ignored it, she would only have to think about it when she had to.

One day, the door at the top of the stairs creaked in warning, just like it did every day. This time, though, her heart shattered when He came pounding down the stairs carrying a girl who could not be more than ten years old—the same age she was when he took her.

She watched Him in cautious bewilderment with wide eyes and a gaped mouth. He grunted when he laid the girl down on the bed, produced a rope from his pocket, and tied her wrists to the frame.

Expressionless and wordless, He grabbed her wrist and dragged her onto the other side of the bed. Her stomach turned over, though, when he reached for the chains. The sickening click of the handcuff echoed around the basement walls.

"Don't get any ideas," He hissed in her ear. Without another word, he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he ascended the stairs. The metal door creaked closed, leaving her in complete shock and silence.

She stared at the girl, who was passed out cold but still breathing, and her mind raced. He had never talked about taking someone else before. The girl was a carbon copy of her. They both shared the same frizzy chestnut hair and pale skin tone.

Was He finally done with her? What would happen to her if he turned to the other girl over her? He would never let her go. So was she doomed to live in the basement forever, or would He kill her just to get her out of the way?

Sitting on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest, she watched the girl sleep. She tensed up any time His footsteps rumbled across the floor upstairs, terrified that at any minute he would come down and take her life.

After the daily sunbeam passed through the window, the girl began to stir and she let out a small groan. As if reality hit her all at once, her eyes shot open and she scrambled to sit upright. Panic washed over the girl's face and her eyes darted around the room while she struggled against the rope that bound her to the foot of the bed frame.

"It's okay, don't panic." She tried to comfort the girl, though she knew that the situation she'd found herself in was far from okay. When she had the girl's attention, she put a finger up to her lips and pointed to the ceiling. "If you make any loud noises, He'll come down. Just stay quiet."

The girl whimpered and cowered as far away from her as possible, obviously panicked out of her mind.

"I know it's scary. I know, but you can trust me." The girl cautiously looked her up and down with ragged breaths. "I promise I won't hurt you."

The girl's tiny voice carried strong traces of terror. "Wh-who are you?"

She hesitated; there were two names she could say, but one of them was forbidden. She hadn't uttered it in years. Fearful of what He would do if the girl ever let her hidden name slip, she pushed it back into the recesses of her mind.

"What's your name?" She tried to keep her voice as soft and comforting as possible, the way she wished someone could have spoken to her when she first woke up in the basement.

The girl shrank away from her even farther, but the softest voice still escaped her lips: "Lizzie."

Before she could explain where they were, His thunderous footsteps echoed across the floor and the door creaked open. Lizzie whimpered. Every inch of her body trembled as she tugged on the ropes. She wanted to tell Lizzie that fighting made it worse, but she could not face the repercussions of doing so.

A thousand thoughts rushed through her head as He descended the stairs, all of which could end with her death.

He reached the final step and walked over to Lizzie without so much as a glance in her direction.

Lizzie's cries and protests filled the air while He began to untie her wrists. Lizzie squirmed and fought back enough to make his task difficult, but he did not hurt her.

As He fumbled with the knot he himself had tied, a pang of courage like she hadn't experienced in a long time stabbed at her. She was not sure if it was to protect the girl she didn't even know or out of self-preservation; she just knew she had to stop what was about to happen.

Her stomach twisted and turned at the thought of the girl having to go through what she did. If He decided he liked this girl more than her, she may not live to see another day. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing; at least she would be free. But then Lizzie would have to take her place.

Against her better judgment, she raised to her knees and drew in a deep breath.

"Stop!"

The room turned so deafeningly quiet that even Lizzie stopped crying. He whipped his head around to look at her. Her teeth clamped together and her eyes opened wide, taking in short, shaky breaths.

"What did you just say?" His voice boomed. Despite her fear, she kept her voice strong and stared him directly in the eye.

"I'll do anything you want." He took two steps towards her and she clenched her whole body to keep from shaking. "I'll do anything you want if you never touch her."

His large frame towered over her and, in that moment, she had never felt so small. He gripped her jaw and pulled her face forward. The chain pulled taut and the handcuff carved her wrist, cutting into her skin. His hot breath hit her face.

"You'll do anything, huh," He questioned sadistically. She swallowed hard.

"Anything. Just promise you won't ever touch her."

His eyes danced with a crazy, unpredictable fire. He took a step forward so they stood less than an inch apart. Every muscle wanted to shrink away, but she held her ground.

"Prove it. Kiss me like you love me."

Her eyes widened even further at the realization of what she'd just done, but she could not take it back before his mouth met hers.

The smell of His terrible breath overwhelmed her, and it took every ounce of strength to keep from screaming. His hand slithered around her back. Her body ached to pull away. She fought back the urge to vomit, but she forced herself to stay put for Lizzie's sake—for both their sakes.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips ripped apart and her head flew to the side when he slapped her across the face.

"Don't ever speak to me like that again," He scolded in a low, menacing voice. Still, he undid the cuff around her wrist and held her to her word by dragging her to the other door in the basement: the one she dreaded. She knew she would have to take whatever he was about to do in silence.

After an unbearable hour of doing everything humanly possible to break her, He threw her out the door, not bothering with the chains, and stomped back up the stairs. She groaned and clutched her side where it felt like he'd broken a rib or three. She slowly rose to her feet but fell into the wall, using it for support to walk the few steps across the room.

When the lock clicked, she stumbled for the toilet and threw up everything she'd been holding back. Whatever energy she had left disintegrated and she collapsed on the cold floor. Every bone and muscle ached, but at the same time, she felt numb.

"Are you okay?"

She lifted her head just enough to see a pair of frightened green eyes staring back at her.

"Yeah," she lied as she slowly pushed herself up. "I'm fine." She leaned her back against the wall and let out a deep sigh, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her side. She'd almost forgotten about the little girl.

"Did he hurt you because of me?" Lizzie's voice trembled, and she knew she could not tell her the truth.

With a deep sigh she replied, "No, it's not your fault." She pulled herself to her feet, wincing, trying to hide her pain, and shuffled over to untie Lizzie's wrists.

"Is he going to hurt me, too?" Lizzie asked in a quiet, scared voice.

She pursed her lips together. "I won't let him," she answered kindly.

While she worked at the knot to free Lizzie's hands, she looked down at the girl's red, puffy eyes with tear tracks running down her cheeks.

Her heart dropped. She had not thought about how scary it would have been for the girl to wake up in a strange place, then be left alone for an hour completely clueless.

"Is that going to happen to me?" Lizzie's eyes locked on the elder captive's wrists. They were scarred from years of chains and now fresh bluish-purple rings of bruises plagued her hand. She could already see early signs of similar bruising on Lizzie's wrists through the red, raw flesh, but she did not have the heart to tell her. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Do you like books?"