Unanswered Prayers
2014 Words
Trigger warning. This chapter mentions s****l assault. Please do not read if this may be upsetting to you.
Third Person POV
Rosalie sobbed quietly as she desperately tugged and tugged at the chains, but it was no use. Her wrist was bloody as was her ankle from trying to wrench it off, pulling and twisting. She’d spent hours searching the basement for any tools that may help, to find nothing of use. It was all over for her. She couldn’t even tell if Mick and his awful friends were still in the house, not with the door shut. What was it he had said? That they had stuff they needed to get? She dreaded to think what that might be. Her imagination was conjuring up all sorts of horrible things and only adding to the fear she was already feeling. She was becoming more and more hysterical as the time passed. There was no clock in the basement to tell her how quickly time was passing or how much time she had left.
Her stomach growled. God, she was hungry. She could drink water from the tap in the bathroom but there was no food down here. Mick hadn’t thought to leave her with any. Not that she thought she would be able to keep anything down. Hell, she didn’t even know if it was still during the day or if it had become nightfall. At some stage, she had fallen asleep for a little while, exhausted from her many attempts to try and escape. Not that she'd been successful but it hadn't stopped her from trying. Death would be preferable to what was facing her, she thought bitterly, but there was nothing she could use in relation to attempting that either.
She heard the door swing open and flinched. Would it just be Mick or all three of the men? Her stomach roiled. She swallowed hard. The chains dropped uselessly from her hand. One set of footsteps came down the stairs and she breathed a sigh of relief, even as her body trembled in anticipation. Mick slowly came into view, his greasy black hair smoothed back, his eyes glinting. He was holding a paper bag which he threw towards her, the bag landing on the mattress. She could smell food. She gingerly took the bag and peered inside of it. There was a sandwich, muffin, yogurt, and a bottle of juice. She hesitated. What was the point of eating? She would most likely just throw it back up. But her stomach growled, just from smelling it and her mouth watered, in spite of herself. It had been hours since she had last eaten, and even then it had not been much.
Mick leaned against her broken-down dresser, looking at her consideringly. He had several bags with him, which he placed on the top. Her eyes went reluctantly to them. “You might as well eat,” he told her roughly “You’re going to need all your strength” he added.
“Then maybe I shouldn’t” Rosalie burst out, angry “You’re all bastards, you know that” she hissed. "Sick, twisted, sons of bitches."
Mick merely raised an eyebrow. He was nonchalant, unaffected by her visible anger. “I might be but at least I’m honest about it. I’ve never loved you Rosalie and you know that” he told her bluntly “but I am quite fond of you, and I don’t wish you to suffer any more than you have to. Eat, it will allow you to keep your strength up" he tried once more to warn her.
She glared at him, wanting to defy him further, but her stomach growled loudly, making Mick smirk at her. She fished the sandwich out and unwrapped it, gingerly nibbling on it. It was a ham and cheese one. Her stomach thanked her as she ate some more. Mick watched her the entire time. It was unnerving and made her feel uncomfortable. Did he have to watch her so intently? What was so fascinating to him? She bowed her head, not wanting to look at him, the sight of him only making her even angrier than she already was.
She chewed and swallowed. Took a sip of the juice. It had a slightly bitter aftertaste to it, but it was apple and she figured that was normal. She'd never been that fond of apple juice, but it was refreshing and helped with her parched throat. Finally, she dared to speak, her heart racing in her chest.
“What time is it?” she asked in a shaking voice.
Mick gave her a slow glance and then shrugged. What harm did it do to tell her the truth?
“It’s 11 pm,” he said calmly “You spent the majority of the day and night in here. I was surprised to find you awake, to be honest, but I guess you must have slept earlier when you realized there was no way of escaping.” He gave a chuckle, highly amused.
She glared at him. “You could still let me go” she pleaded once more “You don’t have to do this Mick. I thought I would at least mean more to you than money,” she said hurt and full of sorrow.
The bastard had raised her the last few years, surely he had some kind of kindness towards her? Some compassion?
“Then you thought wrong Rosalie. I might have been forced to keep you for appearance’s sake but don’t think that my fondness equals anything more than that. I would be fond of a puppy for heaven’s sake” he said dismissively “doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill it in the end" he added with a shrug and then maliciously added "I did kill your mother after all, or have you forgotten that?"
She felt sick. His words were so cold. So cruel. They cut to the very core of her heart. She continued to sip at the juice, looking away from him, her legs curled up beneath her. Mick let out a long slow exhale. He gestured to the bags.
“I got something for you,” he said with a small smile on his lips.
Whatever it was, she didn't want it. She eyed the bag with disdain on her face.
“Forgive me if I don’t show the right amount of enthusiasm” Rosalie shot out angrily.
He laughed. “That’s the spirit I like to see, a hint of feistiness still in you.” His voice was filled with admiration.
She spat at him. He grinned and chuckled to himself, grabbing a bag as she downed some more of the juice.
“Normally I would slap you for doing something so unladylike” he drawled “but I’m going to give you a pass considering the ordeal you’re about to undergo," he said with sarcasm.
“Gee thanks, Mick,” Rosalie said sarcastically, unable to stop herself "How nice of you. Still you can go f**k yourself" she added scowling.
He cast her a chiding look. She glowered at him some more. He drew out a strapless, sexy negligee babydoll gown that was white, and see-through. Rosalie’s eyes bulged. Surely, he did not expect her to wear such a thing. Besides, how could she with the shackles on her? It’s not as though she could undress. Mick seemed to read her mind. He pulled a knife out of his pocket. She panicked. “Mick, don’t” she babbled, even as she scrambled to her feet, blinking as she felt the room beginning to slowly spin around her. What was going on? Why did she feel so lightheaded all of a sudden? Why was her body not moving like she wanted it to? Oh god. Why had she drunk the juice? How stupid and naive could she have been? It had to have been drugged. She had never felt so dumb.
Mick c****d his head, watching. There was a knowing look in his eyes as she swayed on her feet and stumbled slightly. Rosalie groaned, feeling faint. She fell to her knees, panting. Her body felt cold. She looked at Mick in horror. “What did you do?” she whispered.
“Don’t worry it’s simply to make you more relaxed my dear” Mick said casually “It will wear off in a few hours" he promised, as though that was going to make her feel any better.
“Wear off” she mumbled, her mind feeling hazy “Why, no, don’t” she protested, as her body flopped back onto the mattress.
No matter what she tried, her body simply would not cooperate with her. It was like being paralyzed, and it was horrifying.
Mick strode towards her, with the knife in hand, and began to use it to cut her clothes off as she stared up at him, tears trailing down her cheeks. He was methodical, but careful, tearing them off, including her panties and bra, removing them completely. He fished a key out of his pocket and undid the shackles before he put the white, transparent, strapless, babydoll on her and stepped back, eyeing her critically.
“You look innocent,” he said drily. “Like they wanted you to look. Virginal even. Frankly, I don't really get the attraction, but hey, whatever floats their boat" he said breezily, a crooked grin on his face.
Rosalie ran her tongue around her mouth, it feeling dry. She felt degraded, the chains still tight around her wrist and ankle. She took some deep breaths, all of it feeling like a huge effort. If only she could move!
“Please” she mumbled, her eyes unfocused and her vision blurry “Please, no, don’t” she continued to mumble, awkwardly trying to move away.
She heard the sound of the basement door opening. Two more sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. To her, it sounded like the impending sound of doom. She could feel her body trembling automatically in response. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She renewed her efforts to try and get away, cursing inwardly when she couldn't even lift her hand. Whatever drug Mick had given her, it had rendered her completely useless. She began to sob, tears trailing down her cheeks.
“Is she ready yet?” she heard Steven’s voice say a tad impatiently "You've been down here for ages" he complained.
“Just about,” Mick said “I thought I told you to wait upstairs?” he snapped, turning to glare at the both of them.
“We got tired of waiting,” Neil said sheepishly “It was taking too long.”
“Christ, anyone would think you guys hadn’t gotten laid in years” Mick huffed “Lucky your money has cleared by now or you would be waiting a hell of a lot longer” he added smarmily.
Their voices sounded like they were far off, even though they were only a few feet away from her. Rosalie blinked, trying to wriggle away from the mattress but her efforts were futile. The room continued to spin, her body continued to lay there, helpless, her vision blurred. blinked, their faces all blurry as they stared down at her.
“She looks so virginal” cackled Steven “Good choice in lingerie Mick” he congratulated his friend, clapping him hard on the back.
“I thought it would add a bit of romance to the whole thing,” Mick said with a shrug "Plus you were pretty specific about dressing her up," he said wryly, casting him a sidelong glance.
Steven grinned. "What can I say, I have a penchant for a sexy girl in lingerie."
“She looks good enough to eat,” Neil said quietly from his side "and so pretty."
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Steven said wickedly.
She prayed for darkness, she prayed for unconsciousness, and she prayed for mercy. None of those prayers were answered.
- Writer
