Torture

                         JERAH

I scooted backwards on my butts, fear eating everything in me. I watched him close - lock - the door, before chucking my spray can to the floor. 

How did he get into my room? Who was he? What does he want with me?

My heart was in my throat and had refused going down. The fact that he looked so deadly scared me even more. I may not have seen a lot of bad men, but my instincts told me the guy in front me was extremely bad, and dangerous. 

He was in black pants, black polo and a black jacket. Even his shoes were black, and he scared the living daylight out of me. 

He started approaching me, each step he took filling me with nothing but dread. 

"Please..." My voice shivered as I wriggled backwards.

"I...I... I have some m...money in m...my b...bag. J...Just take it all. T... Take ev... everything." I stammered, tears burning the back of my eyes. 

I stopped moving when my back hit the wall. I could literally hear my fear echoing in the chambers of my soul. 

He got close enough and dropped to a crouch in front of me, his dark eyes gazing into mine. My shimmering eyes couldn't leave his. It was more like time had stopped moving. 

Never have I seen a man look so deadly like the one in front of me. His eyes were pool of darkness, devoid of any flicker of warmth. And being so close to me, I felt like I was trapped before the devil. 

He lifted his hand to my face and cupped my chin, digging his fingers so hard like he wanted to leave a mark. A terrified whimper fluttered my throat, and a tear trickled down. 

"What the fúck do you think you doing?" His voice was low and sinister, they made me shiver from within. 

He lifted my chin, his fingers beginning to hurt now. 

"You should cut the act. I'm not one of those díckheads you deceive around you."

I flinched at his choice of words. They were so... vulgar. So unholy.

But what was he talking about? What connection do I have with pretense?

"Please..." I sobbed, my voice coming out too soft. "I....I... Please... J... Just take wh... whatever you want an...and go."

I didn't want to know what he meant. I didn't have the strength to. 

A frown crept into his cold face, making me more terrified. He let go of my chin and took a fistful of my hair instead, yanking it. 

I let out a painful scream, my hands going up to hold his from my hair. 

He pulled his face towards mine and growled. "I hate bítches like you who pretend. Trust me, in no time, I'll bring out the weak beast in you."

He released my hair - roughly - before standing up and stepping away from me. I touched my scalp immediately, trying to soothe the pain. 

"Where are the documents?" He backed me, going towards my dresser. 

That was when I noticed a strange suitcase there. But what was he talking about? What documents?

I've never been more confused in my life. It's obvious he's got the wrong person.

I watched with shaky breaths as he went for the suitcase on the table, then I glanced at the door. 

Without thinking twice, I sprang to my feet and ran for the door. My heart beat rapidly, and everything in me came to life. I grasped the door knob and was about turning it open when an angry hand gripped my hair from behind, pulling it so hard like it was aiming to pull off my scalp.

I screamed terribly again as he pulled me back to the room and pushed me to the bed this time around, making me sit on the edge. 

Fear pierced through me like a thousand daggers. And instantly, I did the only thing I could do at that moment. 

"Help!! Help, please!! Help me!!" I screamed at the top of my voice. 

"Shut up!" His hand sliced through the air and connected to my face, causing my head to reel backward. 

I gasped loudly, my hand going over to the part of my face that had been slapped.

My lips! My eyes widened in horror when I felt the bloodstain on it. 

Oh, God!

He looked even angrier now. He pulled me by the hair again and pushed me to the floor. I began scooting back until I reached the wall. 

"We can make this fast and painful, or slow and excruciating." His voice prickled my skin. "Whatever it is, it's up to you."

He began walking towards the dresser again, but suddenly paused and looked at me. 

"Try to go for the door again and I'll cut off your hand."

I lifted my hand to my mouth to stifle my gasp. Another tear journeyed down my face. Good lord! Holy Mother! What have I done?! What have I done to deserve being locked up with a monster?

Fear tightened it's grip on my throat, suffocating my voice. 

I watched with apprehensive eyes as he opened the suitcase, and my blood ran dry the moment I saw what was in them. 

So many dangerous items - guns, blades of all kinds, scissors, and so many other deadly items I couldn't even recognize. 

A choked whimper slipped pass my throat, especially when he picked up a strange blade and approached me. 

"P...Please..." I pressed my back into the wall. "Y...You c... can't just come in here and d...do t..this to me. It's... It's illegal." 

He acted like I said nothing and squatted in front of me. His face was so cold and spiteful.

"Who do you work for?" He asked brusquely. 

I tried so hard to gather the words in my head. 

"I... I work for no one. I...I... I have a coffee shop down the..."

"Does it look like I'm joking, bítch?" He seized my chin with an iron grip, making the back of my head hit the wall slightly. 

"The more you keep up with this shit, the more painful your death will be." He released my chin, and another tear dropped to my cheek.

"Who sent you to kill Marko?" He questioned. 

My teary eyes widened immediately, shock and horror reflecting in them. 

"K...K...Kill?!!!" I recoiled in horror. "Wh... What're you talking about?!!" 

He stared coldly at me.

"God have mercy, I've... I've never killed anyone or... or anything. T... The mere t...thought of it alone is...is a sin. How can I...How can I do such a thing?"

Immediately, a seering pain seeped into me as he used the blade on my leg, giving me a stab. 

I arched my back and let out a terrifying scream - louder than I've ever screamed. 

"No...! Please....!!!" Sobs racked my body. 

Multi tears coursed down my cheeks, and my hand quickly went to the part of my leg that had been stabbed. 

His face was just the same. He pulled out the knife and wiped part of the blood on my dress. 

"This is just one of many." He grumped. "If you don't start giving me answers, I'll make it unbearable. Who sent you to kill Marko and where are the documents?" 

His voice was still chillingly low, like he wasn't affected a bit by my cries. 

I wept profusely, my head banging heavily. 

"Please! I don't know what you're talking about." I shook my head. "I... I don't know any Marko. I... I swear on God's name, I have no dealing with him. I didn't k...kill anyone. I... I don't know wh... what documents you're talking about. Please..."

He touched my neck with the sharp edge of the knife, threatening another stab. 

"What sort of scumbag are you?" He gritted. "You must think no one saw you. There was a CCTV footage and I watched the damn thing - how you killed those guys like the bitch you are. You cut them open, right after you killed Marko."

What's he saying? I did what?!

"N...No." I wagged my head. "It wasn't me. I've spent my whole life in a convent and...and just came here n... not long ago. Please... you have to believe me. I... I don't know what you're talking about."

He lowered the knife from my neck to my arm and gave me another cut there. 

My head hit the wall as another scream erupted from me. Uncontrollable tears streaked my face, and my heart became too weak to take any more of it. 

"Please...! Please...!" I whimpered helplessly. 

My vision became blurry instantly, and I couldn't tell if it was due to the tears, or due to my fears. 

I looked at his face and although, my vision wasn't clear anymore, but I could swear I saw confusion flicker across his face - for a mini second. 

"Please..." I said faintly, feeling the blood rush out of my hand and leg.

I became totally empty. And no matter how hard I fought it, my fragile body gave in to the pains. I passed out.