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Full of Grace
He dropped his head to the cool cement again, trying to make the spinning
stop. It was useless as the whirling dervish in his head overtook him and
he closed his eyes, sinking back into the dark void that he had emerged
from.
Far away, he felt his arms being stretched again, the rest of him being
dragged along behind. He was too tired to move his head to find out who it
was. He didn't care. He just wanted to sleep.
A pair of green eyes peered down at him and soft hands ran over his body,
soothing every part of him that burned and ached. He felt his breath draw
out in a sigh of contentment as a pair of soft lips reached for his, finally
meeting them and holding fast to his. A soft moan left his lips,
"Kevin...." Then as fast as he had come, he was gone, Vanishing in the
mists of his pain filled mind.
His eyes slid open again, it was so dark where he was, that he wasn't even
sure if his eyes were really open until he blinked them. As his pupils
adjusted to the darkness, he could see a faint outline of a covered window,
some sunlight spilling in and pooling on the floor on the other side of the
room. He looked around and saw that he was in a basement, it had obviously
not been used in a long time, cobwebs hung thick and heavy between the
columns supporting the building above. He looked down at himself and
grimaced. The foul muskiness of his own vomit reached his nostrils, along
with the stale air and dust of the basement.
His clothes clung to him, weighted down by vomit and blood that had run down
from his nose and mouth. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, gliding
gently along his swollen lips to survey the damage as best as he could. He
felt the crack in the skin on the right side of his lower lip, his breath
involuntarily hissing as the separated flesh protested the invasion.
He felt the stiff crackle of blood that had caked around his nose, another
drying strip of it on the side of his face. A movement of his eyebrow told
him of the source of the dried trail of blood. He tried to lift his hand to
feel out any more injuries, but found his hands securely fastened behind
him, the tug on his bindings sending a metallic clang throughout the room as
the shackles made contact with the pipe they were wrapped around.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the moment of dizziness to pass and then
opened them again to drink in his surrounding some more. He looked
downwards once again to see an old, flattened mattress beneath him and at
the end of the mattress, tantalizingly out of reach was a low table that
held a pitcher of water and an empty glass. Nick felt his mouth water,
yearning for the liquid to soothe his parched throat.
He made himself look away from it, he knew Stefanie had placed it there to
mock him, to let him know that, despite him having the knowledge of where
Kevin was, she was in charge.
Nick involuntarily jumped when the door swung open at the top of the stairs
and a pair of legs walked down the stairs, followed by another pair of legs.
They reached the bottom and Stefanie was the only one who walked forward
from the darkness and she walked over to the end of the mattress, and poured
a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. Slowly she drank it down,
making sure to savor every mouthful as Nick watched, unable to tear his eyes
away.
When she was done, she set the glass down on the table and walked over to
him, stepping beside him to undo the chain that was fastened to his shackles
and in turn wrapped around the pipe. Once she had the chain from around the
pipe and in her hands, she yanked him to his feet, leaving him stumbling and
reeling after her.
She stopped him with a swift kick to the shin and smiled in satisfaction at
his whimper of pain before he could stifle it. The other person that was
at the bottom of the stairs stepped out of the shadows and Nick recognized
him. He knew from the way Kevin had described him, that this was Frank, the
man who had raped him.
Stefanie saw the flash of recognition in Nick's eyes and smiled, "Oh where
are my manners? I do believe you've head of Frank from Kevin, they had
quite the little tryst. Maybe Frank would like an encore with you? Hmm,
we'll have to think about that. "
Nick felt his arms jerked back up above his head by Frank and pulled upwards
until he was standing practically on tip toe. When he was secured, Frank
stepped away and Stefanie came up to him and ran her fingernails lightly
down the side of his face, digging them into the bruises, "Did you know that
Frank used to be a professional kick boxer? He was quite good.
Unfortunately his career was cut short when he took the fight too far and
killed his opponent. No one seemed to want to fight him after that. They
wouldn't even let him back in his gym so he could work off his tension.
Poor Frank. So I decided to volunteer you. He so misses his punching bag,
don't you Frank? Of course I could be persuaded to tell him to stop if you
told me where Kevin is."
Nick felt his stomach clench in dread. This was not going to be pretty. He
was helpless strung up by his hands and his feet barely touching the ground.
This woman kept getting sicker and sicker. He closed his eyes and started
to pray, waiting for the first blow.
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