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Steven walked in, staring down at a weak, near-anorexic body that stared up at him, one look into her eyes alone showed that she was fragile and broken inside. He smiled.
"I bet all your little fans are missing their Vanity, aren't they? I've read the fan forums. Talking about how great a next album would have been, what you would have achieved, the performances you would have done..."
She closed her eyes as he ran his hand through her hair. Part of her just wanted to push him away, run out of the room and find some way of escaping, she knew Steven had already made the house like some sort of maze, she could hear him coming every time, he'd have to unlock a dozen or so locks just to get to her. They were all around the house, what chance did she have? Just thinking of it all drained her, she just didn't have the energy anymore, she'd already tried to escape and it only left her with a load of bruises over her body. He seemed pretty pleased with himself. She was sick of being some sort of doll he could torture whenever he pleased, the last time he kidnapped her, she swore that she wouldn't let this happen to herself again.
"Why don't you speak to me, huh? We used to have such a good time together, don't you remember?"
He wore the most smug smile she'd ever seen, she hated it, having to look at that for these past six months had made her go slightly insane. She tried to always see the light in the situation, sometimes she'd even slightly laugh to herself in this dull, grey room, thinking "Well, it can't get any worse than this" and, "These situations are gonna make for some great lyrics for a new album one day", she didn't even know if she was getting out, but she had to keep hoping. She knew she'd kill herself if she didn't keep reminding herself about the things she loved most in life.
"We always have a good time, we do, we really do."
She thought back to a few days ago, she couldn't remember exactly how long ago it was, what was the point in keeping up with the date and time? The world had simply stopped for her, as she slowly rotted away in this small, enclosed space. In fact, it was quite nice for a little while not to worry about the time, or where to get to, what to do, time was always some sort of barrier for her, preventing us all from achieving what we want to, it's like a countdown. And once the countdown is over, there's no second chances.
His greasy face right next to hers, biting at her neck as his rough stubble brushed against her skin like sandpaper, she whimpered, her hands were held out, open, touching his shoulders, but she didn't have the power to push him off. He reached down and grabbed her exposed breasts, as he forced his way inbetween her legs, his spare arm locked around her neck, holding her down as she could barely breathe. She shook her head, wanting to erase the memory.
It wasn't the first time he'd done such a thing to her, in fact, it'd become something she expected every time he walked into the room. She no longer had the fight in her, the last time she did, she'd gotten a fist to the face and a black eye. Of course, a black eye was better than twenty minutes of the torture he'd put her through, but she got to a point where she simply stopped caring about anything. She had even offered herself to him once, asking him to let her go in return, he took the offer, but never let her go. Deep down, she knew that's what he'd do.
"What are you thinking about?"
He shouldn't ask questions that he wouldn't like the answer to. |
  ACTIVE: Vanity x Nadia Berry |
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