Her blood sprays across the walls and her body falls limp against the concrete floor. Roy clamps his hand down on her neck. His fingers smear red imprints across her jaw.
A frail whimper rolls off of her lips. The sound intoxicates him, tainting his anger. "Shh. My prize," he murmurs. Fear darkens her glassy brown eyes.
A sob thickens a whine leaking down her throat. He straddles her body seeling his mouth over hers. Her screams smear across the roof of his mouth and tangle around his tongue.
Her nails digs into his arm, slicing through his flesh. Desperately she tries to push him off of her. She thrashes beneath his weight. His heat courses across her skin, twisting her stomach into sickening knots.
His fingers dig into her flesh, burrowing around her jaw. Somewhere inside the kiss she looses consciousness, falling into the halo of blood pooled around her head.
***
"Here again," Jacquie's voice rings down the tight aisle. Cooper bounds up and down, trailing along with her. "Coop vienen," Nate mumbles. Cooper whirls around and wanders over to him.
Jacquie balances the bulky weight across her forearms and carries it toward the counter.
"Hi," Scott mumbles, heaving a box up onto the counter, "Shit. How many more of these bloody boxes is in that truck?"
"You offered to help," Jacquie says with a teasing tone leaking into her voice.
Cooper jumps up and leans against the counter. His front paws scrape along it's top. He sniffs the boxes and nudges the edges. "Cooper abajo," Nate sighs.
Cooper obediently tears away and stumbles back. "Is he allowed in here?" Scott frowns and stares at the dog.
"He's a service dog," Nate mumbles.
"Don't you have to be blind to need have a service dog?"
"Obviously not," Jacquie rolls her green eyes.
The back door swing open, squealing on it's hinges. "Come on Jacquie," Roy sighs, barely noticing Nate. Jacquie groans and trails behind him.
"Christ," Scott complains following the both of them. Nate watches the glass door swing shut behind him.
Drawing in a deep breath he slips behind the counter. He smoothes his hand over the heavy wooden door, cracking it open. Musty air sweeps over him as he steps inside the cramped back room.
The floorboards creak beneath his weight and the dim light splashes across his eyes. Nate walks cautiously across the room, hesitating at a slim desk.
His gaze falters over a picture of Ella propped up on the desk. Her dark eyes stare aimlessly from beneath the glass and her auburn hair twirls into ringlets over her shoulders. In the photo she's perched up on a porch railing with her legs draped over the side. There's no bruises or deep cuts polluting her skin. Just sunlight beating from behind the camera.
Nate picks up the photo frame. Carefully he pulls the back off. The glass shudders against the frame and the photo slips out easily. Nate slides it into the pocket of his jeans.
He tears a sheet of paper off of the thick notebook. His fingers fumble around a pen. He quickly scribbles down foreign words.
Lo siento y te amo. De su hija.
Swiftly he replaces the photo with the sheet of paper, sliding it against the glass.
***
Alone, Nate listens to the silence ebbing around him. He jams the key into the rusted lock, snapping it open. He pushes open on the door and steps inside the basement.
"Ella?" he whispers, closing the door. The shadows quickly engulf him, wrapping him up in a tangle of their ghostly ligaments. Gradually his vision tears through the gloom.
He can faintly see Ella's body splayed across the concrete floor. "Mierda," Nate mutters, leaping down the stairs. He kneels down beside her and gently smoothes her hair back.
Blood streaks through her auburn hair and clings to his hand. It's smeared across her face and leaked over the floor.
Cold sweat clings to her unnaturally pale skin. Her shallow gasps slip between her blue lips. "Ella?" Nate desperately tries to break through the thick unconsciousness.
Panic courses through his vanes in a feverish rush. "Ella come on," Nate pleads, "Wake up." Her flesh feels icy beneath his hands, drained of warmth. "Por favor despierta."
"Mierda," Nate mumbles. Gently he slides his arms beneath her limp body. He shifts her weight against his chest and picks her up. Ella's head lolls against his shoulder.
"Come on Elle," Nate sighs. He carries her up the stairs and awkwardly shoves the door open. Cooper races down the hall, dancing around Nate's feet.
He leans against the wall and cradles her against his chest. He fumbles for the key strung around his neck. He manages to unlock the door, pushing it open.
Sunlight oozes through the window, slipping through the bars. It pours over them. Carefully Nate lies her on he bed. She takes a frail gasp of air. Her head tilts back against the pillow and her auburn hair spills over the edge.
"Come on Ella wake up." She remains unresponsive, caught in unconsciousness. Nate sits down beside her and curls the blankets around her beaten body.
Cooper jumps onto the bed and lies down beside her. He rests her head across her stomach and stares up at Nate. He runs his fingers through Cooper's thick fur.
Nate tenderly smears the blood that's dried across her face away with the back of his hand. Her clammy skin feels cold beneath the weight of his fingers. "Please Ella."
Protectively, he watches the rise and fall of Ella's chest. He hesitates before brushing her hair back and stroking the side of her face. His hand hovers over the side of her neck.
He can feel her weak pulse beating beneath her flesh. Her feeble gasp wraps around it. His fingers lightly trace her skin. "Wake up."
YOU ARE READING
Salvation
Teen FictionShe's his prize, his beautiful, flawless prize. She's his trophy, a girl he stole from the world. He holds her captive in the harsh shadows of the basement and tortures her. He loves her, charishes her every breath and lives off her every scream. He...
