Sienna

The darkness pressed in from all sides, a suffocating blanket that made my breaths come short and panicked. My limbs were crammed painfully in the cramped space of the trunk, my body twisted awkwardly against the metal walls. The air was thick and stale, heavy with the scent of oil and rust.

"Please, God," I whispered, my voice trembling and weak. "I know I haven't been the best daughter but please spare me." There were still a lot of things I wanted to do, a lot of things I wanted to achieve. My life had only just begun, I was finally happy and stable, I didnt want it to end. "Please, help me, please."

The rumbling of the car's engine was a constant, oppressive presence, vibrating through my bones. Each bump in the road jostled me painfully against the unyielding walls. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my breathing. Tristan. I could see his face, etched with worry, wondering where I was, fearing the worst. The thought of him tore at my heart. I tried to fight back another wave of tears but they flowed down my cheeks effortlessly, mingling with the grime on my it. I missed him. I had never felt so alone, so utterly helpless before.

"Please, God," I prayed again. "I can't do this. I need you." My sobs came in shuddering gasps, my chest heaving with the effort. "Please, help me. I'm so scared. Please, just get me out of here. Please, save me."

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each second a lifetime of fear and desperation but I clung to my prayer like a lifeline. It wouldn't end like this. It just couldn't. I would see Tristan again. We would be together.

Suddenly, the car began to slow, the engine's rumble dropping to a low growl. I held my breath, my heart skipping a beat. The car came to a stop and for a moment, silence reigned. Then, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

The trunk lid suddenly lifted, and a rush of cool air hit my face.

I inhaled deeply, gasping for breath.

Alaric's silhouette loomed above me. He was silent, staring down at my shivering form. The lack of emotion on his face scared me. I had expected to see distaste, disdain, or even fascination, but there was nothing.

Without a word, he grabbed me roughly by the arm and dragged me out of the trunk.

I stumbled and fell hard onto the rough gravel. Pain exploded in my knee but I was too weak to react.

Alaric snorted distastefully. "Get up." He hauled me up to my feet but I could barely stand. My legs were numb and shaky.

He didn't give me a moment to gather myself. I tried to find my footing but he was already pulling my frail body towards the other side of the road, and when I looked up, I realized with a sinking heart that we were approaching the thick line of trees at the edge of the clearing.

He was taking me into the woods. He wouldn't bring me here if he didn't plan on killing me.

"Alaric stop this," I managed, but my voice seemed to vanish into the dense air.

Alaric ignored me, his grip tightening painfully on my arm as he dragged me forward.

The forest loomed, dark and forbidding. My fear intensified. "No, no, no. Alaric please."

"Move it."

Desperation fueled my movements. "No!" I thrashed against his grip, my body twisting and struggling with everything I had left. "Alaric, please! You've done enough!"

Something cold and hard suddenly touched the back of my head, making me choke to a stop. I froze, every muscle locking in place.

"Listen to me, Sienna, and listen carefully." Alaric hissed, leaning into me. "I don't care if it interferes with my plan, I will not hesitate to put a bullet in you if continue acting like a rancid bitch."

Fear flooded my veins. Where did he get a gun?

"Do we understand each other?"

The cold metal of the gun sent shivers down my spine, paralyzing my thoughts and my resistance. Trembling, I nodded slowly, tears rushing down my face.

"Good. Now walk."

He released my arm, but the threat of the gun remained, keeping me obedient. My legs felt like lead as I took my first few steps. Thoughts of escape returned but I knew I didn't stand a chance.

The dense trees immediately swallowed me up as I moved further into the woods. The night was alive with the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of owls, but the sounds felt muted as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.

Every step felt like I was wading through quicksand, each breath a struggle against the rising fright. Please, God, please. I sent another silent plea upward, but there was no answer, only the relentless march towards the shadows of the forest. With each step, the shadows grew thicker, and the trees loomed taller, their branches like skeletal hands reaching out. I tripped over a fallen branch and fell, grunting.

Alaric cursed out behind me. "Get the fuck up."

My vision blurred with tears of pain and frustration. "Please," I begged, crying. "I can't go on. I can't."

We'd walked a long stretch, so deep into the woods, far from any hope of rescue.

Ignoring my plea, Alaric hauled me up and dragged me forward without pause. My body dragged like dead weight. Branches snagged my clothes and scratched my skin, leaving stinging welts in their wake. At some point, my body started to feel cold and my vision started to cloud. I was out of strength and dehydrated. I blinked several times, trying to stay awake.

A small clearing suddenly came into view. In the center stood a cabin with its lights on, casting an eerie glow through the trees. It looked old and worn out, a relic of forgotten times, with peeling lacquer and a sagging roof.

My heart pounded with renewed fear as Alaric pushed the door open, the hinges creaking loudly.

"Get in."

The moment he shoved me into the cabin, the foul, musty air hit me like a physical blow. I gagged. The stench of decay and mildew overwhelmed my senses. I couldn't hold it. Vomit gushed out of my mouth.

"What the hell?!" Alaric jumped back but it was too late, I had gotten some on his pants.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees, emptying my guts on the floor. I couldn't stop. My throat burned and my stomach churned but it kept coming; wave after wave of nausea—wracking my body.

"You stupid bitch!" Alaric cursed, yanking a handful of my hair and pulling it back. I screamed. "Have you lost your mind?!" He slapped me across the face again; a hit so profound that stars burst across my eyes.

His thick palm seized my throat. "You're going to clean this up! I don't care how you do it! Clean it!"

My lungs burned with pain. "I-I can't...breathe..."

"I should just kill you now!" He squeezed tighter, his eyes singeing with emptiness and anger.

My head spun as I tried gasping for air. I clawed my fingers at his hands uselessly. "S-stop!"

"Please!"

"Stop!"

***

I woke up with a gasp.

Oh my God.

I sat up quickly and took in my surroundings. I was on a bed. The mattress was thin and lumpy, but it was a bed nonetheless. I blinked, trying to summon the last moments before everything went black. The last thing I remembered was the putrid smell of vomit and decay and the searing pain of being strangled by Alaric.

I instinctively reached for my throat and winced. His fingers dug so deep into my skin that I felt a bruise forming. But that was the least of my problems because when I looked down at myself for the first time, I gasped in horror.

My dress. It was gone. I was missing everything except my bra.

What did he do to me?

My hands trembled as I examined my body in haste.

I had half expected to find gaping wounds or missing pieces but there was nothing. No blood, no cuts, no bruises. I ran my hands over my stomach, my ribs, my arms, my legs—every inch of me seemed intact and unharmed with no sign of penetration.

Relief mingled with confusion, creating a dizzying cocktail of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths...

I forced myself to think, to focus. I looked around. The room was stark and empty with bare wooden walls and a single barricaded window that let in a sliver of pale light. There was nothing here—no furniture, no decorations, and certainly nothing I could use as a weapon.

Carefully, I slid off the bed. My body still ached from the rough handling and the vomiting. With shaky hands, I pulled the sheets from the mattress and wrapped it around my body.

For a moment, I listened closely. The cabin was silent, except for the sound of my heavy breathing. I tiptoed to the door, my heart battering against my chest. I gripped the handle, terrified that I might find Alaric standing outside waiting to pounce on me but as I cracked it open quietly, I realized he wasn't there.

Rather, he stood in the living room, his back to me. He was shirtless, revealing deep, gory tattoos that ran all over his toned back.

He was whistling a tune as well, seemingly at ease as he poured himself a glass of alcohol. My eyes darted around the room, the dim light barely illuminated the interior but I could make out a table, a few chairs, and a cot in the corner. My eyes landed on his gun, casually placed on the table a few inches away from him. Just within my reach. My heart pounded in my chest as I considered my options. If I could just get to it...

Gathering every ounce of courage, I held my breath and took a cautious step toward the table. It went unnoticed, thanks to my lightweight that didn't make the floors creak.

I took the second step and stopped, waiting to see if he noticed. No reaction. Yes. I took the third step and—

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Alaric's voice suddenly cut through the air, making me gasp and freeze.

He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine with a cold, knowing smile on his lips. "I see you're awake and up to no good."

"What did you do to me?" I finally asked him. "What did you do to me, you asshole?!"

He drank from his glass, unruffled. "I did you a favor."

"A favor?" I squeezed the sheets tighter against my chest. "You call stripping me naked a favor?"

"You pissed yourself, little one."

His words hit me like a punch.

My cheeks burned red from embarrassment. The glasses of champagne I consumed at the party must have finally caught up with me. But still, that didn't warrant him stripping me of my clothes. The thought of him having seen my body made me want to vomit. Fuming, my eyes floated over to the gun. Judging by the distance I was closer to it than he was. I could lunge for it...

What are you doing Sienna?

My subconscious scolded me.

You've never held a gun before, you don't even know how to shoot.

No, it didn't matter. The one with the weapon always had the upper hand.

My eyes remained fixed on the gun. Terror coursed through me, but I forced myself to remain still. I could do this. Summoning my bravery, I decided to go for it. In a split second, I pushed off my back foot and dove towards the table.

But Alaric was faster.

He lunged forward, his hand slamming down on the gun before I could reach it, and with a swift, fierce motion, he shoved me into the wall.

Pain exploded in my back and I screamed, sliding down to the floor.

He loomed over me, the gun now pointed directly at my head. "Seems like you really have a death wish."

My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into my palms. "If you're going to kill me do it already! Pull the trigger, you crazy pervert!!!"

He chuckled, pulling the gun back. "I have to admit you've turned out to be more entertaining than I thought."

Tells of fury pricked my eyes, blinking them back angrily, I spat. "Tristan probably has the whole police department after you! You're not going to escape this! You're dead!"

"Oh, Sienna." He crouched down in front of me. "You simply cannot kill a man who is already dead."

I felt myself go cold. Who was this man? "Why...?" I asked in a broken breath. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" He repeated, pressing the cold tip of his gun against my cheek. I flinched, but he held it steady, tracing the trail my tears had left, a mockery of tenderness. "Because Tristan loves you."

"W-What has that got to do with anything?"

He smiled. It was a very cruel one. The gun moved, tracing a slow, deliberate path down my cheek, over my jaw, and down to my throat. My heart pounded, each beat a desperate plea for survival. His eyes never left mine, dark and unyielding. "It is the things we love the most that end up destroying us, Sienna."

I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't.

"I want to see what he'll do next." He continued, his voice a low dangerous purr. "How he'll break. It's fascinating, really; having to watch him suffer, knowing he will leave the rest of his life in regret and misery."

He pulled the gun away, leaving a lingering touch of cold steel on my skin. I breathed in deeply, watching as he brought the barrel to his mouth and delicately licked my tears from the cold metal surface.

The sight sent a wave of revulsion and fear through me.

His tongue traced where my tears had fallen, leaving a trail of moisture glistening in the dim light of the room. The taste of my despair amused him. Was my anguish such a delicacy to be savored? Pissed off, I snapped. "You're sick!" I spat. "You psycho! You're sick! What could he have possibly done to you?! What?!"

"You want to know?"

"Yes!"

"I'll tell you," He got up and tucked his gun behind him. "Right after we play a little game." He grabbed my hand and tried to pull me up but I yanked it free, retaining my position on the floor.

"I'm not playing any game with you!"

"I wasn't asking. Get up."

"No!"

"Sienna."

"Suck my fucking dick."

His smile faded, replaced by a menacing scowl. "I have a better idea." Reaching behind, he pulled the gun out again and aimed at my head and before I could comprehend what was going on, he pulled the trigger.

I screamed and closed my eyes, my hands instinctively flying up to shield my head.

Was this the end?

I had expected to feel the searing pain, but nothing.

Was it the adrenaline?

Was I already dead?

I opened my eyes slowly and immediately gasped at the steaming bullet hole on the floor next to me.

"Looks like I missed."

Another shot rang out almost immediately, this time closer. The bullet embedded itself in the wall just inches above me, causing a shower of plaster to rain down on me. I screamed again, covering my ears. "I'll play okay! I'll play your stupid game!"

The third shot was even closer as the bullet struck the wall just above my shoulder. "I said I'll play! I'll play!" I sobbed, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea. "Please, just stop!"

His fingers tightened on the trigger. "I change my mind. I don't want to play the game anymore."

The fourth shot rang out, impossibly loud, sending another shower of plaster down on me. I screamed again, louder, my voice hoarse and desperate. "Stop!"

But he did it again.

He shot again.

And again.

And again.

"Stop! Please, stop!" I cried out, curling into a ball on the floor, my hands pressing harder against my ears. "Make it stop!"

The bullet was so close I could feel the heat from its passing. "I'll do whatever you want!" I begged, my words choked with sobs. The world was a blur of fear and noise, and I couldn't stop crying. "I'll do anything you want! please! I'll do anything!"

He stopped.

Silence.

"Anything?" Alaric asked quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

Shivering, I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. "Anything..." I whispered back, realizing bitterly how precarious my situation truly was. "Anything to make it stop."

His smile returned, unhurried and sinister. He reached down, his strong hands gripping my arms as he pulled me up from the floor. I didn't mean to, but I collapsed against him. My legs felt like they were made of jelly. I was too weak to support my weight or fight him.

He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to revel in my weakness, his hold on me tightening for a moment before he carried me over to the couch. He placed me down gently, almost tenderly, before straightening up and moving to sit in the chair opposite mine.

For a moment, he was quiet, his eyes never leaving my face. The silence was suffocating, and I could feel his gaze burning into me as I sat there, quivering.

"I want you to appease me, Sienna," he finally spoke, his voice soft but firm.

I looked up at him, my body trembling and my mind racing to figure out what he wanted. "W-what do you want me to do?"

His smile was slow, predatory. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes burning into mine. The terror of the last few minutes had left me raw and vulnerable, and I knew that whatever he demanded, I would have no choice but to comply. "Make me feel better, Sienna. Take my mind off how much you've stressed me tonight."

With tears still streaming down my face, I asked. "H-How?"

"Give me a show." His eyes lowered to my thighs. "Touch yourself for me."