《Selena Arabella Calos》

The sound of someone talking wakes me up. I suddenly sit up and look around to check for anyone other than the two of us in the room- but there is no one. Daniel is asleep- so I assume that it's not him. I get up and walk to the door, placing my ear against it- but there's no sound coming from outside.

Is it possible that I'm just being paranoid and just completely imagined someone talking? After the past few days I've had, this wouldn't really surprise me. Every unexpected sound makes my heart race- sometimes I panic so much that I have trouble breathing. But despite all this, for some reason, I am pretty sure that I did not imagine the voice- someone was talking.

I hear Daniel mumbling from the other side of the room and almost sigh in relief- I'm not crazy. I walk closer to him to try and hear what he is saying, but it's all unintelligible.

I take a deep breath and lie down on the floor again. Okay, I can relax now- I'm not crazy, and there's no one else in the room. I can-

A loud scream interrupts my train of thoughts, and I back away from the source of the scream- it's Daniel.

I keep looking at Daniel, scared that he might scream again. Daniel's nightmares must be terrible if he's screaming in them. What could have happened to him to give him such bad nightmares? Is that why he doesn't usually sleep? That must be it.

but that would be insensitive and inappropriate, but that doesn't stop me from wondering about them.

I don't know if I should wake him up. I have heard that no one should wake up someone who is having a nightmare.

I can't help myself when he screams again, startling me. I take a deep breath as I approach Daniel.

I lightly touch Daniel's shoulder and softly say his name- but nothing happens. After waiting for a few moments, I shake Daniel a little, and Daniel immediately stands up, pinning me against the wall with his arm against my neck.

With a start I realise, Daniel is still not awake. His eyes are closed. I can't breathe properly with his arm pressing my neck. "Daniel, please wake up."

When Daniel's arm still doesn't move, I start panicking. What if he kills me before he's even awake enough to know what's happening?

"Daniel, please..." I try again. I'm starting to feel dizzy and my vision is starting to blur. With a last burst of energy, I shout: "Nico!"

This has an immediate effect on Daniel. He quickly backs away from me- like I'm on fire- and starts breathing rapidly. "How... why... are you okay?" Daniel asks me as soon as he has caught his breath.

I told up a finger as I rub my neck, trying to breathe properly.

"Selena, are you okay?"

"I'm..." I take a deep breathe. "I'm fine."

Daniel looks at me, his eyes wide. "How much did I hurt you?"

I shake my head and try to answer in a calm tone- which is hard to do considering I'm the opposite of calm right now. "You didn't hurt me."

"Don't fucking lie to me," Daniel growls, then pinches the bridge of his nose and take a deep breath when he sees me back away from him. "I need you to tell me the truth."

"I am. I'm fine now. I was just scared for a bit."

Daniel looks at me like he doesn't believe me, but thankfully he doesn't argue with me. "I knew I shouldn't have slept."

I take a step towards him but he shakes his head and tries to back away from me, but I take a step closer to him when he steps back. "I hurt you while sleeping, and I did not even known it."

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine before you believe me?" I ask him angrily.

"You can say it a thousand times and I still won't believe you. I hurt you and the redness on your neck proves it."

"Daniel, stop it."

He narrows his eyes at me then sighs. "How did you wake me up?"

I smile. "I called you Nico."

A small smile appears on his face, but it disappears as fast as it appeared. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

"If you don't stop saying that, I swear I'm going to hit you and then you can decide who's more dangerous," I tell him angrily.

He looks at me for a moment, and his frown starts transforming into a smile.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask him, annoyed.

"I'm just imagining you trying to hit me, and I just-" he starts laughing, and I roll my eyes.

I raise an eyebrow. "What? Do you really think I can't hit you just because I'm a girl?"

Daniel tries to stop smiling but fails. "No, it's not that. It's just that you're so tiny compared to me that just imagining you hitting me is like imagining a chipmunk hitting, I don't know, like a tree. And that is fucking hilarious." He starts laughing again.

I try to keep my expression serious but hearing him laugh and imagining my threat from Daniel's point of view makes me start smiling too.

"I'm going to go to sleep," I tell the Daniel when he has calmed down.

Despite all that happened, I feel very sleepy, and I'm afraid that if I don't sleep, I'm going to pass out or be in a very, very bad mood- neither of which is good. I lie down on the floor and close my eyes- almost instantly falling into a deep slumber.

-

Someone's going to die. No one wakes me up from my sleep. No one. But apparently, either Daniel's too stupid to listen to me, or he's very eager to die. The former, I think, is more likely.

"What do you want?" I growl at him for the fifth time as I finally open my eyes, and all he does is shrug.

I roll my eyes then close my eyes again until that idiot pokes me again.

"Daniel, I swear to god, this is your last warning. If you disturb my sleep again, I will kill you," I tell him.

"But I'm bored," he whines like a child, but I don't reply.

I open my eyes and sit up, knowing that Daniel will keep annoying me until I listen to him. "What would you like to do?" I ask him.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the door opens with a bang, and in the blink of an eye, Daniel is standing in front of me. Ugh, not this again.

"Stay there," Daniel whispers, grinding his teeth as I make a move to get up from the floor. He keeps on clenching and unclenching his jaw repeatedly, perhaps, trying to keep his anger under control, but it doesn't seem like it's working.

"What the fuck do you want?" Daniel growls at the people who came in, but they are prepared for his anger and their guns at me this time.

Clearly, they are not stupid. They seem to know that if they had aimed the gun at Daniel, then he wouldn't have cared, so they pointed their guns at me to prevent Daniel from doing something. Four more guards come into the room.

What in the world is going on?

"If either of you tries anything, then we'll kill the other," the guy from yesterday, the one who I thought was the leader of the guards, warns us.

The four guards that entered the room last escort Daniel out of the room. Then, two guards lead me out of the room.

How sexist! Daniel gets four guards, and I only get two.

Wait, why am I even thinking about that right now? Ugh, I'm so stupid, but considering the fact that stupid thoughts keep me from panicking, I allow myself to think about any and every stupid thing that I can possibly think of.

I'm seeing the hallways for the first time because I came here whilst I was unconscious, then I was transferred into both rooms in the same state. The hallways are dark and cool, but the fluorescent lights on the ceiling illuminate the uneven floor, so I don't trip while walking.

They must have taken Daniel somewhere else because I don't see him, and I left the room only a few seconds after Daniel.

I find it hard to walk because I haven't had any food in who knows how many days. If I wasn't used to staying hungry, I probably would have passed out by now. Although I have to admit- I don't think I've ever stayed this hungry for this long.

Without warning, the two idiots in front of me come to a halt, and I run into one of them. He turns around to glare at me, but the only thing I can make out is dull brown eyes because the rest of his face is hidden behind a mask.

I laugh internally. Who do they think they are? Do they think that wearing a mask makes them look intimidating? Because it really doesn't. It just makes them look... stupid.

When the guard notices that his glare isn't affecting me, he turns around and opens the metal door in front of us.

The room is hot, too hot. It's as if the room is in Africa. The room, like every other room in this wretched place, is dark. The right wall is lined with an assortment of odd-looking shapes.

I take a moment to let my eyes adjust to the darkness, then look at the wall again, and when I do, I stop breathing.

Whips, knives, tasers, guns, chains, ropes and a long stick-like object which looks like a cattle prod. All of these together are used for thing and one thing alone- torture.

I quickly look away but keep my eyes open even though all I want to do is close them. I try to take deep breathes, but I can't- there is absolutely nothing I can do but stand there as my breathing gets shallower, as my whole body starts shaking, as my vision starts darkening. There is nothing I can do but look at one of the guards come towards me and inject me with something that makes me pass out again.

-

I feel like every time I open my eyes, the world is worse. On second thought, maybe not the world, but my life. It all started when I woke up because of the noise that day. I wish I didn't wake up that day- I wish I never woke up.

Waking up this time is probably worse than any other time. Why did they even knock me out this time? It's not like I could escape or do anything to them. They could have chained me up, like they have now, even if I was awake. There are cuffs around both my wrists. The cuffs are attached to thick metal chains connected on opposite sides of an arch above me. My arms are already sore because they are technically supporting my entire body and my wrists look red. My legs are locked in place by chains around my ankles. All in all, I have no way of defending myself- other than my mouth. If they are close enough to me, then perhaps I can bite their hand off or cuss them out, whichever I can muster the courage to do.

I'm still in the same room they brought me to before- the room with all the torture weapons. This time, though, I'm not scared. Or maybe I'm so afraid that my mind has become numb, so I don't feel any fear or panic- whatever the reason, I'm grateful. Fear isn't going to get me anywhere. They're going to do what they want to do to me- at least this way, I'm not giving them the satisfaction of scaring me.

I open my mouth to speak- taunt them maybe because I can't see anyone around me- but no voice comes out. My throat is parched- probably because of the fear, I felt before.

The door opens, and some people walk into the room. I can't see most of their faces because of their masks, but I can see the person walking in the front. His appearance is so unsettling to me because I feel like I should know him, but I don't- he looks like a strange mix of Adam and Alex. And as far as I know, they don't have any family in common.

He also doesn't look more than fifteen, so his presence in this hellish place surprises me. I thought everyone here must be older- more immune to violence than a fifteen-year-old must be, but I guess evil people have a way of desensitizing children to violence.

"Hello, Selena," the boy says, greeting me as though we are familiars. He studies me for a second, then holds out a bottle of water. "You need to drink this if we are to have a proper conversation."

Not bloody likely. I glare at him and shake my head. There's no way I'm going to drink whatever is in that bottle.

He smiles at my reluctance. "There's just water in the bottle, I promise." Does he expect me to believe him? He sighs when I keep on staring at him expressionlessly. "You have two choices. One, you drink the water willingly, and you don't get hurt. The other, well, I think you already know what it is."

He opens the bottle, walks to me and holds it to my lips. I don't want to drink it, but I also don't want to face whatever they have planned for me if I don't, so I open my mouth reluctantly. The boy tips the bottle and helps me drink, and before I know it, the whole bottle is finished. It feels nice to have fresh bottled water after having tap water for such a long time. At least, I think it's water because it tasted like water, but the taste isn't a reliable indicator of whether the drink is spiked or not, so I have no idea what will happen to me in the next few moments.

"What conversations did you want us to have?" I ask him. My tone is angry, but the boy smiles like he doesn't notice it, and I want to hit him for it. Oh, if only I wasn't restrained, he wouldn't have his teeth right now.

I take a deep breath to control my anger. As much as I would like to hurt the boy in front of me, I can't. I don't mean I can't hurt him for the obvious reason- me being restrained- but I shouldn't hurt him or think of hurting him because he's a kid. He shouldn't be in a place like this.

"We are going to call your father right now, and you are going to tell him to give my father what he needs," the boy says, and I give him a confused look. Who in the world is his father?

"I'm sorry, but who's your father?"

"I'm surprised you don't realise. Don't I look like my brother? You know your ex-best friend, or wait, is it just ex?" He replies in an attempt to aggravate me.

"Adam doesn't have a brother," I reply, trying to keep my cool and keep thoughts of murdering this kid out of my mind.

"So no comments on the ex bit. I guess I should consider it true then," he says, and I glare at him. He better shut up before I- before I what? Shout at him? What can I possibly do to him? "Okay, then. On to the other thing. Adam does have a brother. I'm living proof of that. But he likes to pretend he doesn't- you know, it's hard looking at the outcome of his father's infidelity all the time. The thing that ruined his parents' marriage."

"You could have just said that you were his half brother instead of all that," I say, and he shrugs.

"I have a tendency to be dramatic," he retorts, smiling. "Now that that bit is clear, do you remember what you have to tell your father?"

I stare at him with contempt. "And what if I don't?"

"I don't think you have much choice in the matter. And if you don't, my father has instructed me to use any means necessary," he tells me, motioning to the wall of torture.

"Aren't you a little too young to torture someone?"

"You tell me, wasn't my brother the same age as me when he tried to kill you?" He counters, and I look down, staying silent because he's right. "But of course, you justify his actions because you think of him as wounded."

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but I think that you're the same as him. Mentally and emotionally wounded forever because of your father's abuse," I retaliate, looking at him with a smile. He looks stunned. "What? Did you really think I wouldn't notice? That scar on your neck is your father's signature, isn't it? I remember the day Adam got his. What did you do to get it?"

Whatever I'm saying, I'm saying it to provoke him, and it works.

His formerly playful demeanour disappears, and he glares at me. "Shut the fuck up," he says simply, then takes out his phone- probably to call my father.

I knew I was right about the scar. When Adam did something that his father really didn't like- like when he tried to run away from home- he used a hot knife to carve a cross at the bottom of Adam's neck. It was a constant reminder for him to not do anything his father may disagree with. His father really was and is the devil.

The boy, Adam's brother, holds out the phone near me so I can speak when my father picks up.

"What's your name?" I ask him, and he blinks in surprise.

"Why?"

"Would you rather I refer to you as Adam's brother?"

"My name is Oliver," he replies, then looks at the phone. "Why isn't your father answering?"

Because he doesn't care about me. Because that's what he does when it comes to me. I don't remember the last time my father answered my call. I have many answers, but I go with, "How am I supposed to know? It's not like I can see him right now."

"But his daughter has been kidnapped. He must know that my father would try to contact him," Oliver says, and I shrug.

"He knows. He just doesn't care," I reply nonchalantly, and Oliver stares at me.

"And that doesn't bother you?" He asks me, confused.

"I'm used to my parents not caring about me- it's one of the things that Adam and I bonded over."

He keeps on looking at me for a while, looking a little conflicted, then he turns around. "Fais ce qu'on t'a dit," he says, addressing the guards that came in with him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask him. I understood perfectly well what he said: "do what you were told", but what I want to know is what he means by that. Does that mean... torture?

As the fear creeps in again, I start shaking a little- enough that I feel like I'm shaking but not enough that anyone else notices it. At least, I hope no one notices it.

He gives me a sympathetic look. "If your father isn't answering our calls, we need another way to send him a message."

"He won't care about anything you do to me," I tell him in a desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable torture that they plan to inflict upon me.

He smiles sadly. "No. No matter how much parents pretend to hate their children, they'll never accept anyone else harming or fucking us up. That right is just theirs."

He doesn't wait for my reply. Instead, he turns around and leaves the room- without looking back.

Now that I'm in a room with these faceless people, my fear knows no bounds. I'm visibly shaking now, and tears are pooling up in my eyes. As hard as I try not to let them fall, I can't seem to stop the treacherous stream of saltwater from running down my face. I hate myself for it. I hate myself for showing my fear in front of these faceless strangers. The strangers who'll take pleasure in harming me- more so now when I've shown them my fear.

I suddenly realise how cold it is. My pajamas do little to shield me from the cold. I don't even know if it really is cold or if my fear deludes me into thinking it is.

One of the guards picks up something in their hand and steps forward. I want to step back or run away from the danger that I now face, but I can't.

I hate my father for not picking up the call.

I hate my father for not giving Adam's father what he wanted.

I hate my family for not rescuing me. They should have done better. They should have made sure that they did all they could to ensure that I would never be in this position. But they didn't, and now I will pay the price for it.

The guard steps closer to me, and I realise that he is holding some sort of jagged dagger. It looks medieval. It looks evil. It looks terrifying.

I want to beg them to let me go, and I'm ashamed of myself for it. I'll be giving them what they want, but I am so petrified and helpless that I don't care about that anymore.

"Please don't-" I start when the guard is in front of me, but the sound of footsteps behind me stops me short. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. What are they doing behind me? I can't even see who is behind me. Oh my god. Oh my god.

There is a sudden high pitched noise before something splits my skin, causing searing pain. I scream in agony. My knees buckle, and my shoulders hurt from the extra weight.

A minute passes before I stop screaming and realise what happened. They used a whip. I don't know what kind- but I know that's what it was. It is the only thing that can cause such a noise and split skin like that.

I don't know if I'm relieved or not. The whip certainly hurt, but it's probably better than being stabbed by the dagger.

I try to control my breathing as the searing pain in my back was increasing by the second. The blood trickling down my back doesn't help.

A few minutes pass before the pain starts becoming numb. I'm not surprised that they haven't whipped me again because they know that I need to get over the initial pain before they can inflict me with more.

A few minutes more, and the pain has subsided, even though my breathing is still ragged. I can hear them talking again, and I know what's coming.

This time I prepare myself for the impact. I hear it before I feel it. I hear the swish of the whip travelling through the air, I hear the sound of leather against my skin, then my back feels numb.

I don't scream this time- I've lost the will to do so. No one is coming to my rescue, nor will they stop their torture, so there is no point in screaming.

They don't pause this time. They whip me continuously. Ten, fifteen, twenty, I count every time I feel the leather against my skin, I count until I feel myself slipping out of consciousness. I count until I feel myself starting to become limp. I can't until their words are unintelligible. I count until my brain decides to shut down. I count until the world turns dark.

-

I don't know how long I passed out for this time, but when I wake up, I'm back in the room- our room. I'm sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall so that I don't fall. I can feel my blood running down my back. My shirt feels wet and sticky with my blood. It is also utterly useless at covering my back and provides even less protection against the cold than before.

I glance around the room realise I'm alone in the room. Where's Daniel. What if he's d-

No. I can't think like that. If I do, I will go crazy. He's alive. He may be hurt really bad, but he's alive. I'm sure of it.

I shift a bit, biting my tongue to stop myself from screaming, to see the room behind me. I blink in surprise at what I see. There's food, water, first aid kits and some clothes. I don't feel thankful at all to our kidnappers for leaving those things because it's the least they could do after the torture that they put us through. I try to shift again to try and reach it, but I can't- I'm in too much pain. The irony of the situation is that the first aid kit is the only thing that can relieve my pain, but I would probably die from the pain before I reached the first aid kit. How absolutely bloody perfect.

I feel helpless and weak and pathetic and generally just terrible. And to top it all off, I start silently sobbing, making me feel even more miserable and weak than I did before. There is no way I can stay alive like this. I'm going to die... at least this is a slightly cooler way of dy-

The door opens with a bang making my heart jump. I would have jumped up if I was able to.

Standing in the doorway is Daniel- battered, bloody, and bruised but alive. The guards push him inside, and despite trying to keep on standing, he falls to the ground. Thankfully he twists, so he falls to his side; otherwise, he would have fallen face-first because his hands are cuffed behind his back. Daniel somehow pulls himself up to a sitting position and glares at the guards.

"I'm going to fucking end you," he threatens them before they shut the door.

"Daniel," I whisper hoarsely, and he turns to look at me. His eyes widen when he does.

-

A/N

This chapter was draining to write. Going to take a nap. Might rant later. Might write another chapter too- depends on my mind. 

See y'all later.