Vengeance of The Fallen (Twisted Legends Collection 1) - Page 21

“She’s prettier up close,” another deep rumble says as the shuffle of heavy boots against cold concrete sounds in the room.

My spine tingles with awareness. They don’t come closer. I can’t hear any footsteps which means they’re still at the entrance to the room which is still in pitch blackness. I’m certain there are three men, but the third hasn’t spoken yet. He must be watching though.

A memory slams into me suddenly, and realization dawns on me. “You took me,” I whisper. “You fucking kidnapped me you psychopaths!” I don’t know why I’m taunting them, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. Anger surges through me, overtaking the fear.

It’s momentarily stunted by a harsh swat against my cheek which sends me reeling to the ground. I slam down onto the cold, hard concrete, my knees protesting as pain shoots up my legs.

“Shit,” I bite out, cursing silently as I try to keep my mouth shut. If I were to say anything more, they’ll surely kill me. I don’t know what they want from me, but I kneel, my head bowed, and I don’t move for a long while.

“I like you on your knees,” the first man who spoke says. His voice is closer now, but I didn’t hear him take any steps. Fingers tangle in my hair, twisting my head until I’m once again blinded by light. This time though, the illumination aids me, showing me the shadows who watch over me.

Three faces. They don’t look human, but I know they are. They have to be. The skulls painted on their expressions are hard, cold, and deadly. If I were drunk, I may have thought I’d been killed and sent to hell.

But this is very much real.

At least, I think it is.

“What do you want from me?” My voice croaks on the last word, and tears sting my eyes. As much as I want to fight them, to tear their eyes from their heads, I can’t move. I hate being weak.

“We’re here to play a little game, Goldilocks,” the one gripping my hair sneers. I want to respond, but I don’t have time because he continues, “It’s time we tell our story.”

I vowed a long time ago I’ll never again be weakened by a man.

Yet, here I am, on my knees, bound, at their mercy.

But something tells me they don’t know what that word means.

“W-W-What do you mean?” I stutter, fear enveloping me. There is an icy chill in the room, basement, wherever I am. The men don’t answer me, they merely take me in. One of them tilts his head to the side, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly making the fake teeth painted onto his face seem almost sinister.

I’ve witnessed people dressing up for Halloween with make up like this. I’ve seen it posted all over social media. It was a fad and it hasn’t died out, and here they are, looking like they’re ready for the party.

“Lucille,” the tallest one says, as he flicks on a dim bulb hanging in the middle of the room. “I think it’s time you formally met us.” The weak illumination does nothing to ease my anxiety as the yellow glow shimmers over their faces. The hoods they wear cover their hair, so I can’t tell much more than height and build.

What does startle me though is their eyes. The one in front who spoke first, who I’m guessing is the leader, has the most iridescent silver eyes. Like shining metal which seems to change into a variety of shades when he moves.

The other man to the leader’s left is a head shorter, but he’s broader. HIs wide shoulders fill out the black hoodie he’s wearing, and his eyes are a deep aquamarine, a blue so light, so clean, it looks like a gemstone. Lastly, is the slender one with his hands in his pockets. He’s smirking at me with amusement now, and his gaze of jade green is locked on me.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl,” green eyes says to me, his tone playful, but there’s a hint of madness to it. As if he can flick a switch and his smiles can turn into sneers.

“I-I don’t understand,” I croak out, integrally berating myself for being so submissive. Granted, I’m afraid of them, of what they can do to me, but I don’t want to appear weak. There is no way I can fight them off, but I won’t go down without trying.

Silver eyes moves to the corner of the room, and it’s only then I realize there’s a chair. He settles himself into it, his legs spread wide, and it should be illegal for someone so sinister to look so good.

The darkness inside me craves the monsters, and it dances with delight. I’ve fought my demons, kept them at bay. It’s only at night I allowed myself to delve into that side of my psyche. But here, with these dangerous men, I can’t let it happen. I have to focus. I have to find a way to escape.

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