You Know I Make You Wanna Scream

*Normal POV*

Where did he go? How could he have gotten out from underneath that knife without at least making some kind of noise? Or, if he did then I must’ve been way to excited talking to Randi to even think about him. I have an extremely bad feeling that all of this just blew up in my face.

I tried dialing Randi’s number one more time, but that same monotone voice filled my ears. Then another idea came to mind – I should use my last moments (before Synyster finds me) to talk to Chris, he’ll know what to do. I rapidly dialed his number, and some other guy’s voice answered…I’m guessing his room-mate? “Hello?” he asked, half asleep.

“Hi, is Chris there? I need to–.” Before I could finish my sentence, a large hand grasped the phone, and ripped it off the wall, throwing it down to the ground. I glanced down in horror as the last hope of my survival, and communication with the outside world, lay on the ground in tons of broken, useless pieces.

Synyster had leaned his shoulder up against the wall near where the phone once was and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at me. “I’ve gotta say, I thought that with your friend’s life on the line, you might have gone a little longer without being so…spontaneous,” he said.

“You better not have done anything to Randi,” I replied, quickly leaning against the table for support, upon realizing I had been standing on my broken leg for the past ten minutes. And since he was staring a hole through me, of course he would notice that detail.

“Oooh, that’s right you didn’t think about your injuries during your bravery, allow me to help you out with that.” Before I could blink, he had both of his hands wrapped tightly around my upper-arms and he pushed me up against the wall – hard.

I gasped a little as I felt my back begin to sting from the sudden impact, and I began cringing because he still hasn’t let go. “Now, since you so kindly violated our deal, we’re gonna have to discuss the terms for your punishment.”

What else could he possibly do to me? If he breaks my other leg, then I won’t be able to move…but then I won’t be of any ‘use’ to them. I’m so used to knife wounds and punches now that I don’t think he could possibly inflict any more pain through those methods. But then I stopped and thought for a second…he’s never fully tried anything in bed yet. I could feel my lower lip quiver slightly in fear and my eyes begin to water at the thought. He knew that I figured out what he had planned.

He smirked down at me in such a belittling manner, as I fearfully looked back up at him. “What do you say we skip the ‘discussion’ and move straight to the action? I mean, talking would only ruin the surprise I have for you so let’s just…get to it,” he said, suddenly throwing me to the hard ground. What, is he going to do it here? No.

He grabbed a handful of my stringy, greasy hair and pulled tightly, dragging my body down the hall. “No, please don’t do this! I’ll do anything you want, just not this,” I pleaded as we got closer and closer to his bedroom.

He laughed menacingly, “Nice try Myra, but in case you forgot, you already agreed to do whatever I wanted you to do. And since you went against that already, I’m gonna make this experience a helluva lot more painful for you.”

I continued to cry and plead with him, but it could do no good. I helplessly dug my long fingernails into the rotting hardwood floor, cringing at the scraping sound and feeling beneath my nails. It didn’t stop him either, only slowed down his pace. We finally arrived at the last room in the house I would have wanted to see. He forced me up on my feet and gave me a push to step inside the room.

Of course their rooms are going to be the best looking in the house. His room looked like it came out of a completely different room though. The walls were a deep purple color and he had a huge king-sized bed with a rod-iron headboard in the center of the room, situated between two windows, each with black curtains. There was carpet in this room, and it was soft and white. If I had seen this room in any other possible scenario, I would have wished that it was my own. But not now.

As I was looking around at the room, practically noticing every single fucking detail just to keep my mind off what he’s got planned, I could kind of feel him circling me, as if waiting for the ‘perfect’ time to attack or something. There has to be a way out of this, I mean my situation can’t be this hopeless, can it? I decided to just calm myself down by taking a deep breath and waiting for him to make his move, that way I can decided what to do from there.

“Isn’t it funny?” he asked, ripping me out of my thoughts. “I mean, if I remember correctly, you told me when you broke up with me that you were glad that we never did anything together, because I was such an asshole. Now, look how the tables have turned.” He actually laughed, like what he just noticed was so damn funny.

“It hasn’t happened yet,” I said confidently, although deep down in the back of my head, I had a burning feeling that was telling me that this is going to happen. He laughed yet again, only this time it was more sarcastic.

“When are you going to figure it out, Myra? There is no escape. You can’t beat me no matter how hard you try. I have a feeling that you just might be learning this the hard way tonight.” I didn’t have time to reply, or do anything else for that matter.

He kicked my back as hard as he could with his heavy ass boot, and sent me flying toward the bed, landing in a pathetic, twisted wreck…kind of like a Twister game gone bad. Before he was able to join me on the bed, I had managed to force my body into any upright position, and believe me it was a struggle. And as soon as I was sitting up, he literally jumped on the bed and landed right on top of me…or at least on my damn broken leg. I cringed and gasped as pain once again shot its way up through my leg. But I wouldn’t scream – that’s what this asshole wants. I think he could tell that I was biting back a scream, but I don’t give a shit. I can’t feel my leg now.

“Do you mind getting off my fucking broken leg?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you mean this leg?” he asked ‘innocently’ as he dug his knee deeper into my shin. He started absent-mindedly pushing on my exposed bones with his fingers as he said, “If I seem to recall, you had no problem whatsoever running off the couch and into the kitchen to get to the phone, so this really shouldn’t be nearly as bad as that. You need to toughen up a little, Myra. That’s the bottom line.”

My breathing had become ragged and on top of that, I felt like I was having a panic attack. I really don’t want him to do this, in case you haven’t noticed. I’d almost rather go through the physical torture, than go through this.

After what felt like forever, he finally got off my legs and moved up closer so that his face was only a few inches away from mine, in other words, way too close for comfort. Actually, as weird as this might sound, it reminded me of when we dated a couple of years ago. I really did love him and if I hadn’t seen them kill Kayla, I would have been completely devastated that we were moving. Would I have stayed with him even if we weren’t moving? No, they just would have killed me too…but what if what Jimmy said was true, what if they began their little killing spree all because of me?

Think of how different all our lives would’ve been...the guys would still be normal guys with their girlfriends, and Brian and I would still be happy together, I bet. I killed all of them and replaced them with who they are today. Brian is dead, and Synyster has taken his place. Or maybe not. What if I tried to bring Brian back? It’s not totally impossible…it worked with Jimmy. “Brian,” I said suddenly, causing him to stop in his tracks and stare at me with a confused expression.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, still coming closer. “Don’t call me that ever again,” he snarled, closing all space between us.

“But I –.” He forcefully brought his lips down on mine, preventing me from saying anything else. I didn’t want to kiss him back, but he grabbed onto the back of my head and pushed me forward, basically giving me no other choice. And while I was wishing I was anywhere else but here, he managed to force his tongue inside my mouth, exploring every direction. And I just let him do it, desperately hoping that it’ll be enough for him to just leave me alone. But obviously that wouldn’t happen.

He began to use his other hand to trail up my shirt, and the feeling of his hand on my skin made me want to throw up all over him. He was gonna go all the way, and I have to try my best to stop him. His lips were still locked to mine, and there was no way I could break apart. But, to my surprise, I realized that both of my hands were still free, which meant I could stop him. Just as his hand had just about reached my bra strap, I used both of my hands to push on his chest and get his body a little bit further away from mine. He immediately noticed and stopped kissing.

“You’re not trying to interfere, are you?” he asked, taking both of my hands in one of his.

“No…I…uh,” I stuttered out.

“Didn’t think so, but just to be sure…,” he began to say as he took off one of his belts, “we better take some safety precautions.” He brought my right hand up to the bed post, and I knew what he was planning.

“No, please. I’m sorry I won’t do it again!” I pleaded, knowing that if I couldn’t have my hands free, then there would be no chance of stopping it at all.

He laughed, “Yeah, like I’d really believe you.” He wrapped the huge, studded belt around my wrist at the tightest size it would go. I could already feel the circulation being cut off. Then he did the same thing with my other wrist, causing my body to rest up against the cold iron headboard.

“Now that that’s taken care of, let’s get back down to business,” he said throwing all of the pillows down onto the floor. He grabbed a knife off the table nearby and held it extremely close to my face. “You know I won’t hesitate to cause some additional pain if you try to interfere again, right?” I slowly nodded my head, not wanting to say one word to him.

He brought the knife down toward the bottom of my tattered shirt. He gradually tore through the shirt with the knife, cutting it in two pieces down the middle. He pushed the knife in deeper than he had to and I shivered as I felt the cold metal crawl across my skin, leaving a thin trail of crimson blood behind it.

By the time he reached the top of my shirt, my body was shaking due to my shivering, and my sobs that I no longer held back. He ripped the rest of the shirt off of me, leaving me sitting there in my black bra and plaid pajama pants, because you know they kidnapped me while I was in my damn pajamas and I’ve been in the same clothes the entire time that I’ve been here. And actually, they weren’t even pants anymore because they’d been cut and ripped from various occasions. Now they were more like shorts anyway.

He looked down at my body with lust written all over his face. I have to admit, I do have a toned body. But now’s definitely not the time to be talking about that. He quickly took his shirt off and then took his pants off, which took him a while because he still had another belt on. Who the hell wears three belts?! So now he was just in his boxers. He tore my ‘pants’ off to reveal me in my black thong. Damn it, why did I have to wear a thong that night anyway?! He smiled when he saw that. He crawled back up my body again, causing me to shudder as our skin touched.

Since I was practically sitting up, he had a much easier time getting to my bra clasp. And as he was trying to take that off, I kept shifting positions trying to keep him away from it. He let out a frustrated sigh and then without words or warnings, he slapped me hard across the face. “I already told you, Myra, stop fucking around. This is going to happen whether you like it or not.” I instantly stopped moving after that and cried, even though it hurt like hell to do even that.

Needless to say, he got the bra off and stared down at my boobs. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to do that whole ‘think of your happy place’ routine, in hopes that it could make all of this go away. I suddenly gasped as he squeezed both of my boobs hard. It practically knocked the wind out of me. I didn’t want to open my eyes anytime soon, but he started talking all of the sudden.

“You must really hate your life,” he said. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Um, if by ‘hate my life’ you mean hate you, then yes I do. I was perfectly fine with my life before I ran into you again!” I shouted, the stress and fear I once felt now turning into anger.

“You don’t even know how bad your life is, do you?” I guess my confused expression answered his question because he continued anyway. “Well, let’s see…your parents were always trying to get you to be someone that you weren’t. I was your first ‘real’ boyfriend. You’re responsible for at least six people’s deaths. And you’re going to die for all of it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?! My parents love me, even if they didn’t like the way I dressed at the time. You were hardly a boyfriend. You and your psycho friends were the ones that killed anyone, not me. So fuck you!”

He smirked, as if I had just given him the reaction he wanted and then he said, “Fine by me.” I realized he was referring to the last sentence I had just screamed at him, and I mentally slapped myself for that one.

Within a second his boxers were off and so were my panties. “See Myra, I’m always gonna be the one on top. You can never beat me, and you never will.” He forced himself into me right in the middle of what he was saying. Of course it didn’t help that he was fucking huge in that department. I could feel the skin down there rip and tear as he pushed himself further and further inside. Blood instantly began pouring down my thighs. I screamed my lungs out until my throat felt raw. It hurt so badly, and screaming was really the only thing I could do.

Even in the dimly lit room, I could see his smirk on his face. “Don’t deny it Myra. You know I make you wanna scream.” I couldn’t deny it. He scares the crap out of me now, he really does. I didn’t want to, but I continued screaming.

We finally reached what I’m assuming was the climax or something and he released himself inside of me. I felt like throwing up at the thought of him being inside of me. He pulled himself out of me all the sudden causing all sorts of shit to drip onto the sheets. I could barely catch my breath, and I couldn’t see very well because my vision was so blurred with tears.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, smiling. What the hell is round two?! Even with my arms tied up to the bed posts, he managed to flip me over so that I was lying on my stomach. My arms were all twisted up in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. I don’t even know how he managed to flip me over without freaking breaking my back. Well, at least this way I don’t have to look at him. I mean how could it get any worse?

It does get worse. Why? Because he forced himself into my ass! How the hell is that supposed to be pleasurable anyway (in a non-rape scenario)? I didn’t think it was possible, but I cried and screamed even more now than I did before. He went in there so hard and fast that you could hear the ripping of the skin. My skin. And it felt even worse because of the position I was in. This time around didn’t last as long as the first time, but it was twice as painful.

Once he was done with all that, he twisted me back around so I was lying in a normal position. He untied my wrists and let my body fall limp back onto the bed. I felt completely broken and dead inside. I didn’t even feel like a human anymore. I felt like my life was ripped from my body and torn to shreds. No screams could save me. Nothing can save me. Now I know for sure that things couldn’t get any worse than this.

But they always do.