Deal With the Devil

She woke up alone, although it hardly bothered her anymore. The black comforter was wrapped tightly around her body and she could feel the warmth from the sun's morning rays shining through the large window across the room. Her eyes stung from the sleep and she groaned, pushing a hand through her tangled hair.

It was nearing ten AM as she sat up from the mattress and swung her legs off the side. The grey tank-top she had fallen asleep in had ridden up, revealing her abdomen as well as the bottom part of a small tattoo that had been permanently etched into her skin four years ago. She stood on her feet, looking down at her hip-bone and gently running her fingertip over the black ink. A dove holding a grenade and in the middle, his initials; A small C.S.

She shuddered.

She quickly pulled the top down and over her stomach before making her way towards the connected bathroom. Once in, she started the shower and pulled two towels from a cabinet. While she waited for the water to warm, she pulled her hair down from the messy bun it had been tossed into the night before. She caught a glance of her reflection in the mirror and practically cringed. The left-over make-up on her face was smeared and she noticed the light purple bruise that had formed on her neck overnight.

She shook her head, as if shaking the image away, before stripping out of her clothes and stepping into the spray of hot water.

Every day was the same. Even after four years, she figured she might've adjusted to this life, but she couldn't, even if she truly wanted to. Each morning when she opened her eyes and realized she was still in his bedroom, she was reminded that wishes didn't come true and God, if there was one, simply ignored her prayers to be set free of the nightmare she had been forced into.

At sixteen years old, she was sold into the underground sex world by her own father. For as long as she could remember, she had lived a luxurious life with both parents and an older brother. That is, until her father decided to move the family to California.

She had actually been excited about it. Sure, she would miss her friends and the life she had had in Oregon, but she imagined the beach and joining a new cheer-leading squad. And just before her fifteenth birthday in July, a four bedroom, two-story house in Huntington Beach, California, became their new home. But within the next year, money seemed to become tighter. And little did anyone know, the main man of the house had begun taking drastic measures in order to provide for his family.

He became involved with one of the largest and most famous gangs in Southern California, Avenged Sevenfold. No one knew, not even his wife, and especially not his children. It became his darkest secret kept from the world.

By the time everyone figured out how he had been making an income, it was too late. The gang had trashed their house, demanding the large sum of money he had borrowed from them. When they realized he had nothing to give, they took the next best thing; His lovely virgin daughter.

Although the men of Avenged Sevenfold would've loved to have kept her for themselves, they had to make a profit. She was put up for auction as a sex slave and was quickly bought by another local gang, Hollywood Undead. She was taken by them to a mansion that resided high in the Hollywood Hills. There was a long drive-way that went on for miles and tons of gates all around that kept everyone locked onto the property. The house was four-stories tall. A basement used for unimaginable things, the first floor, which mostly consisted of a large living room and kitchen, and the second and third floors were all bedrooms and personal offices.

She had been bought by one of the leaders, Mister Charlie Scene, or as she would later learn, Jordon Terrell. And at sixteen years old, she had lived the true definition of hell. Rape, drugs, beatings; Jordon was the most horrible person she had ever laid eyes on, and even saying that was an understatement. To him, she was just a sex toy, and when necessary, she was made to look good on his arm in public. But other than that, she might have just been his little personal punching bag.

She didn't want to think about. She hated it. She hated him, or so she so desperately wanted to. She couldn't understand why or when she had fallen in love with him. It just happened. Maybe it was forced, because all around her was love. The other guys of Hollywood Undead also had girls, though they treated them with a lot more respect than Jordon did. They spoiled them with gifts and took them on dates, but everyone had a rough beginning. She wanted to have a relationship like that, as odd as that sounded considering the other girls had either been kidnapped or also bought in an auction.

But instead she had Jordon.

Her eyes fluttered, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. She inhaled a deep breath, reaching for the bottle of shampoo. She roughly scrubbed at her scalp and did the same with the conditioner before washing away the suds. She finished the rest of her usual shower routine and shut the water off, stepping into the steam-filled room. After drying off, she made her way towards the walk-in closet that she shared with him and decided on something to wear. After getting dressed and perfecting her hair and make-up back in the bathroom, she slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops before making her way downstairs.

She usually didn't leave the bedroom a lot, but her stomach was growling. It was almost noon and she figured lunch would be served soon.

For once, there wasn't a lot of commotion throughout the house. It was actually somewhat quiet, which was unusual. None of the boys were anywhere to be seen, meaning they'd probably had some business to take care of, and most of the girls were probably off doing their chores. The only sounds that could be heard were coming from the chef in the kitchen, who, as suspected, was cooking up something for lunch. She was an older lady, at least in her forties, who was paying off a debt she owed to the gang. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard someone's presence.

"Ah, good morning, Ms. Samuels." She smiled weakly before turning back to the stove. "Did you sleep well?"

"Grace, I told you, call me Jayden. Ms. Samuels sounds weird." The blonde rolled her eyes playfully, sitting at one of the bar stools around the island-counter. "And yes, I slept fine, thank you."

Grace pulled a pan from the oven. "That's good. I see Mr. Charlie and the rest of the fellas got in late last night, hm?"

Jayden's shoulders tensed. She shrugged, looking down at the dark-tiled counter-top. Before anything else could be said, the front door was opened and loud voices filled the air. She recognized them immediately and sat still, hoping she wouldn't be noticed.

But she was never that lucky.

The six men came flooding into the kitchen at the smell of food. Grace had been right when she said that they had gotten in late the night prior, and Jayden wondered what had been so important this morning since they had clearly just gotten back from somewhere. But she didn't ask questions. She simply kept her mouth shut which seemed to always be the better option.

While her friends suddenly appeared and greeted their boyfriends, Jordon barely spared Jayden a glance. She desperately wanted him to hug her or walk up and kiss her like his friends did for their girlfriends, but he didn't. If he wasn't doing the usual awful things to her, he was ignoring her and acting as if she didn't exist.

This was the life she had been forced into and couldn't bring herself to accept. Even when she woke up from her dreams, she still continued living a nightmare.