Dark Fate of the Crimson Princess(Breeder#8)

Chapter 6 : The Pillowcase

Daphne

My breath was forced out of my lungs as Rion pressed me up against the wall. My arm hurt from him bending it. The joint where my shoulder and upper arm connected burned stronger the longer he gripped it.

His whole torso shoved into me, pressing me flat against the wall. I struggled, but with his strength, it felt pointless. All of the comfort I received from the shower was torn away from me at that moment.

His hot breath puffed from behind the protective wall of my damp hair and onto my neck. It was a forceful breath, like a ragged animal. It was hostile and mean. It made me want to cry, despite how much I didn't want to.

How was this even happening? One moment I was with my little brother and in the next I was trapped in this freak's apartment. I hoped like hell he wouldn't try anything nasty. I didn't want to think about what he might do to me. I just wanted to get out of there, but I knew running away would only make things worse.

He wouldn't go so far as to kill me–he needed me for his exchange–but there were fates worse than death. I stopped struggling. It had become more than apparent to me that I wouldn't win against his strength, at least not at that moment when I had become weakened from lack of food. Part of me wished I had at least eaten dinner before picking up the fork and getting into this mess.

To my surprise, he turned me around until we faced each other. I remained pinned to the wall but his face was inches from me. For a few, long moments, he just stared at me without saying a word. The cold expression in those steel gray eyes forced tears from my eyes to slip down my cheeks and drip off my chin.

His intense stare made me unsure of what he might do next, and I had little power to prevent whatever that was from happening. Then, his eyes softened, but just a little. He seemed surprised to find that I was crying. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking from my end, a false sense of hope that my desperate mind conjured up to keep me sane.

I looked away, unable to help myself, and broke down into body-rattling sobs. I hated the sound of my crying, but I couldn't keep it from bursting out. My body heaved from the effort of releasing the fear and frustration. It was cathartic up until my eyes opened just a slit, and I saw a glimpse of him for a moment before all of the dread overcame me and washed me in another torrent of sobs.

I just wanted to go home at that point, but it all felt so hopeless. Would I ever see Rhys again at this point? Would I ever see my mother again or have a chance to apologize for our last fight? It all covered me in a sickly feeling of guilt and fear.

I fell into a sense of despair, my vision blurred by my crying. There was nothing but the pain of the situation left. It was all I could feel, and it was all I could see. As my crying subsided for a few seconds, I came out of my despair to find him standing in front of me with a roll of duct tape.

How long had I been crying? Did he really just leave me here standing against the wall balling my eyes out? I could have run away....

Before I could get angrier at myself for not taking the chance to leave when I could, he grabbed my hands and held them together as if cupping them in prayer. I practically let him bind my hands with how little of a fight I put up.

To be honest, I didn't have the fight left in me. I was exhausted from crying and all the adrenaline pumped into me over the past… well however long I had been there. I was hungry and tired, too weak to put up any kind of a fight, and by the ease with which he tied the duct tape around my wrists, he seemed to be fully aware of that.

I began to cry again, shuddering and sniffling. When he finished binding my hands he walked away from me, moving to the bed, and grabbing a sock before heading back toward me.

“No, no wait!" I moaned as he moved in on me with the sock. As he shoved it into my mouth, I gagged and fought the urge to throw up, but there was very little in my stomach with which to do so anyway. He finished it all off with another strip of duct tape over the sock so I wouldn't be able to spit it out.

My cries were muffled into the sock and duct tape, but I cried as loud as I could anyway… not that anyone would come to rescue me, but because it was all I could do. Despite how embarrassed and humiliated I felt over this whole ordeal, the tears wouldn't stop flowing down my face. I hated the way it probably made me look.

My eyes felt puffy and the drying tears on my face crusted where they left long streams before fresh tears covered their tracks in what felt like a never-ending cycle.

My fear and sorrow gradually burned into rage. I was no longer saddened at my situation, but I became increasingly infuriated at what this man was doing to me. He had no reason to treat me in such a dehumanizing way, regardless of what my family allegedly did to him. I wanted to scream out all the tears until nothing was left but a roaring flame of hate.

I stared him down, fury roasted within me, all of that hate laser-focused on the man in front of me. Someday, not that day, but someday, I would kill that man. I swore at that moment that I would kill him and be free of him once and for all. All of that rage remained as the tears continued to flow and they would not stop, as angry as I was at him.

The rage took a while to calm down, but it would never leave me. My blurry gaze focused on him again and noticed him huffing just as much as I had been, but perhaps for a different reason.

His shoulders slumped and I realized he might just be as exhausted as I was. I supposed that pinning people against the wall and tying them up tuckered one out. As his breathing slowed to a lull, he remained motionless until my sobs dwindled to sniffles.

My ears rang in the crushing silence that followed. He reached for me and I flinched, but he kept going and I saw he held a cloth that he used to wipe the tears from my face. He took my arms and hauled me to my feet until we both stood facing each other. He looked me in the eye with those cold, steel-gray eyes, but I saw some hesitation in there.

I took this as a chance to make one last plea, my eyes widening at the prospect of him perhaps having a change of heart, and I clamored through the gag. My muffled shouts sounded embarrassingly stupid, but it was all I could do to let him know I wasn't finished.

That did not work. His steel hunter's gaze returned, angry, and moved to the bed.

“I know what I need to do. Don't make me change my mind," he grumbled as he pulled a pillow from its case. He turned back to me and held it in his hands, hesitating. I shook my head and screamed for him not to do it.

“I have so much at stake if I don't go through with this, princess," he said, slowly walking closer to me.

I flung my head from side to side, emphasizing my discontent, but he kept coming closer until he stood right in front of me. His gaze faltered away from me, causing me to pause. He seemed to be ruminating on something.

“I can't let you down," he whispered, but I knew he was no longer speaking to me.

I swung my foot into the wall behind me to get his attention, which worked, but not in the way I would have liked. His aggression returned and he quickly pulled the pillowcase over my head.

Everything went black for a moment before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. He grabbed me by the elbow and led me away, but to where I didn't know. I awkwardly followed his lead, feeling around me. My fingers touched what feel like foreign inanimate objects. Through the pillowcase I saw his vague shape, lights, and other silhouettes, but not enough details to keep me properly oriented.

We stepped down a flight of stairs and I heard voices. They sounded like they came from at least two more people. Perhaps it was the rest of the group. We moved further and I heard a door shut behind me and an unfamiliar voice speak to Rion.

“Hey, I got that map."

“Thanks," Rion said, but he spoke in a low voice and he seemed further away than I thought he was. He sounded further than my arm's length.

Briefly, I had the inkling to take my chances and run. I could have run, but running with a pillowcase over my head sounded like a dumb idea, so I stayed put. The conversation was muffled by both the distance of the speakers and the pillowcase, but I managed to catch a sentence every now and then.

“So there's the tunnel system I talked about. It goes from the city to the mountains."

I thought about what the stranger might have been talking about. It sounded familiar, but I was unsure why. I held my breath to listen better. The words were mumbly and confused me, but they sounded more familiar the more I listened. They were saying that they were leading me to the tunnels. I wondered if those were the same tunnels that led back to the palace.

Their voices became quieter, more muffled like they were almost whispering. Maybe they knew I was listening in, or they were being overly cautious and determined not to let me hear a word of what they said. Regardless, it made it more difficult for me to listen in. I strained my ears trying to pick up what they were saying, but all I got were fragments about other criminals using the tunnels and that we'd need to be prepared.

And then I heard the other guy say, “If they recognize the princess then they will want the palace's reward."

I realized then the need for the pillowcase.