All Chapters of Viscious : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

    Kelly and Sasha. My brain keeps repeating, like a mantra. I lay here, nude as the day I was born, just waiting for something to happen. For the other shoe to drop. He lays on the bed, just relaxing as if he has no cares in the world. Like there's not two dead women in his barn and a woman in a glorified dog crate feet away. To add insult to injury, he lays there playing on my phone, and petting my dog! He whistles and it catches my attention, I raise my head while still covering myself.         "Hey. You want out?" Yes. No. Another trick question. I know I'm expected to answer, but I have no clue what to say. I try to think of a quick response, something humble sounding to keep up my act.        "I'm fine here. Still tired." He gets up anyhow and comes to my cage.        

I hear the cries before I even see or hear the blow. I brave my fears and I crsck an eye, only to see him slamming her face over and over into the side of the cage. He finally stops and he looks over at me. His eyes are blown and dark,  his pupil dilated and his face blank. He is almost demonic. Try as I may, I can't will myself to stop trembling. He leaves her for a moment there, and I notice her hands are bound, but he freed her feet. She's not tethered to anything, she could run. He exits the room and I try to get Bobbi's attention as I hear the front door close.         "Bobbi. You could run. You can get a weapon." I whisper. "My cellphone. You can call police on my cellphone. It was in here." She tries to make it to her feet, fave bloodied and I notice the look on her face. She is in fight or flight mode, her eyes wide and spacey. She looks at me like a predator.        "You really thi

       As much as I tried to not enjoy it, I actually ended up inhaling the Stromboli. Even the thought of sleeping next to him wasn't enough to offset my stomach as I initially thought. The food was warm and soothing, reminding me of happier times. I can remember driving home with my takeout and some household things I had picked up, windows cracked and Creature slobbering out the window. I remember going home and bringing everything in before kicking off my jeans and running upstairs to eat my Stromboli in the warm bath. Music from my phone playing and the lights dim. It felt so liberating. Nobody there to judge me, save for the camera I now know was in my room.          No condescending Dallas with his constant looks of disdain that I recieved for having personality or a free spirit. He always did admire conceited and stuffy types, no doubt subconsciously seeking the type of women he had grown up around due t

The sun settles through the window, shining onto my exposed skin and warming it. The air conditioning is chilly, and I'm blanketless thanks to Kellan. He had jumped up to fix breakfast and bring it up. It's almost the same everyday. Three meals, humiliating shower if I've behaved and some crazy, uncomfortable, or painful experience. I'm debating on throwing my entire mind away, because I'm becoming accustomed to this. Eerily comfortable. The intimacy of it all, the nudity, the abuse have all destroyed my modesty and sense of morality. I've become so focused on staying alive that I've lost my ability to separate what I thought was my acting from my true nature.I slept like a baby last night after I summoned the nerve to wake him and ask for water. He had instead brought me a warm tea, and it soothed me. Ibtry to stretch as best I can and situate my cramping neck. I had fallen asleep with ny neck in a bind. Kellan was still holding

       It has been days since the teller was murdered. I have been quiet most times, not certain what to say to Kellan and certainly in no mood to comfort my captor about his sadness at eventually having to kill me. Kellan has alternated between talkative, soft, and brooding. One minute he has nothing but praise and foot rubs, the next I'm getting lashes or struck for no reason. He especially becomes angry if I refuse to tell him I love him, or that I don't remember saying it. I don't though, and I don't remember it either, but I no longer argue. He could tell me the sky was purple and I'd go in depth to describe the shades to him just to avoid the whip.          He enjoys whipping me. If I am too 'good' he will purposely set me off or frighten me so he has an excuse to get his hands on me. After he does this he will pamper me. Lotions, praise, extra