Chapter 146
This is the last chapter I wrote. I’m having trouble writing; I’m going through a lot of problems and I’m experiencing writer’s block. So, the story will take a while to continue, but I’ll do my best to finish Fox’s book. 1
Noah Whitmore.
The floor was cold.
Rough.
Dirty.
My arms trembled, even though they were pressed against my body.
My knees, drawn up, did not protect me from anything.
Nothing protected me anymore.
Fear ran through every part of my body like cold sweat.
It held me, suffocated me, and crushed me.
I still couldn’t understand how it all happened so fast.
I had barely stepped off the boat when I was thrown into hell.
I remember the feeling of humiliation when they ordered me to take off my clothes in front of all
those guards.
Naked.
Exposed.
Ashamed.
They searched every inch of my body with eyes that didn’t hide their contempt. They were looking for drugs, any excuse to make my arrival at Inferno Bay even worse.
One of the guards explained the uniform system, the color coding, the crimes, and the risks.
Mine was orange.
Serious.
Dangerous.
I’m not dangerous.
I didn’t mean any harm.
I was just defending myself.
And I was still trying to absorb this new distorted reality when they pushed me and four others into that damn courtyard. That filthy arena, where two boys were killed before our eyes “as if they were
nothing.
And now… I’m here.
Locked up with the real demon of this prison.
My chest rose and fell rapidly, caught between muffled sobs and the futile attempt to take a deep breath. My eyes still stung from the slap I had received. The mark of his hand burned on my face like
embers.
He watched me.
Standing tall and imposing as he finished taking off his uniform. Each piece that fell to the floor brought me closer to the end. The sound of the fabric being pulled seemed louder than my
heartbeat.
I stood there, on the floor, my body tense, unable to react. Tears ran hot down my cheeks. The terror inside me had no room for anything but certainty: he was going to abuse me. And there was nowhere to run.
“Get up, blondie,” he ordered.
I bit my lips hard, tasting blood mixed with tears. I remained motionless, wishing I could vanish, disappear, or wake up from this nightmare.
He let out a long sigh.
It wasn’t impatience.
It was pure boredom.
The kick hit my stomach with such brutality that the air was knocked out of my lungs.
I saw stars.
My body instinctively curled up.
Before I could even recover from the pain, I felt his brutal hand grab my hair and pull hard.
I screamed.
An involuntary, loud, desperate sound.
I was dragged like dead weight to the bed. He threw me violently, causing my elbows and legs to hit the hard mattress. I tried to roll to the corner, but he easily turned me over, forcing me to lie face
down.
“I tried to be gentle, but it seems you don’t want to cooperate,” he said in that low voice, laden with
sarcasm.
Panic exploded inside me when I heard the sound of fabric tearing.
No… no…
I felt the back of my uniform come apart, the fabric giving way under his hands.
“Please! Don’t do this to me! I beg you! Please!” I screamed, my voice failing between sobs.
My whole body was shaking.
My teeth were chattering.
I felt tears soak my face, and my vision blurred.
“No!” I screamed again, desperate, with all the air I had left.
It didn’t matter.
He didn’t stop.
I killed a man to stop him from raping me, and even so I was thrown into this hell… only to be abused in the same way.
The weight of his body on top of mine took my breath away.
I felt his body pressed against mine, hot, heavy, suffocating. His smell invaded my nostrils, making
me nauseous.
The touch between my legs made me cry even harder.
I didn’t need to feel anything else to understand what was coming next.
The pain that was approaching.
