Page 19

Chapter 9:

The water cascaded over Ivy's body, the heat did little to soothe her. She couldn't escape the feeling of his fingers inside her, his claim echoing in her mind. As she scrubbed her body, she felt a strange mix of emotions. Fear, anger, and a disturbing sense of arousal that made her stomach twist. Her thoughts were a tangled mess; torn between the horror of her situation and the undeniable attraction she felt for the man who held her prisoner.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and tried to compose herself. The reflection that stared back at her looked all too familiar the bruises on her neck and the look of defeat in her eyes. She'd grown use to her body being broken and battered since childhood. Would she ever be able to look in the mirror and see something different? Could she escape yet again being another man's property or was that her reality? She wondered. Yet, there was something else there too, a spark of defiance that hadn't been extinguished. As hard as they all had tried to extinguish, it's been the one thing they couldn't take from her.

It had been 2 days since she’d seen Vice, she was grateful for the brief respite from his dominance. She knew all too well that her peace would be short lived. He had plans for her, she was the unwilling participant in his twisted game. But she was determined to find a way out, to somehow regain her freedom.

Her heart raced as she walked down the cold, stone corridors of the castle, the soft thud of her feet echoing off the walls. Spicy Nuggets at her side. She was in awe of the grandeur of her surroundings. Each room she passed was a testamentto his power and wealth. “Wow Spicy this place is crazy.” She whispered to him. He meowed in response.

The library was a vast chamber lined with towering bookshelves and mysterious artifacts. The grand ballroom held the ghosts of parties long past, the chandeliers casting eerie shadows across the empty dance floor. The dining hall was a large, imposing room with a high, vaulted ceiling. A table that could seat fifty, set for a banquet that would never come. It was overwhelming.

They wondered through the castle, her mind racing with thoughts of how to escape. The grandeur of the place was suffocating, a stark contrast to the cold, dank cell where she'd spent most of her time. Yet, amidst the opulence, she felt a strange kinship with the abandoned spaces, as if they too were held captive by the monster who owned them.

Turning a corner, they stumbled upon a corridor she hadn't seen before. The passage was long and narrow, the air thick with a damp, metallic scent that tickled her nostrils unpleasantly. The walls were lined on either side with suits of armor, each one standing rigidly at attention, silent sentinels of a bygone era. They reflected the dim light filtering from unseen sources, their polished surfaces glinting like watchful eyes.

"It wouldn't be a true castle without a corridor lined with suits of armor," she said to Spicy, as she rolled her eyes. The cliché was almost comical, and yet... An irrational fear crept into the pit of her stomach. The cold, unyielding steel, the emptiness within each helmet – they unnerved her. Just the thought of walking past them sent a shiver down her spine. They creeped her out, plain and simple.

She felt foolish for being scared. She was an adult, for goodness sake! She internally berated herself, reminding herself of logic and reason. Still, the fear lingered, a primal unease whispering in the back of her mind. She considered retreating, going back the way she came, but the thought was instantly rejected. Her current path was fraught with imagined danger, but backtracking felt like admitting defeat, like ceding ground to the insidious fear that threatened to consume her.

She decided she'd tackle it like when you needed to flip the light switch at the other end of a darkened hall and had to sprint back before the monsters got you. Flip it and run, she thought, a childish memory suddenly offering a strange sort of courage.

She'd just have to grit her teeth and do it.

There was only one way forward. She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and ran. As she ran, she got the same feeling as when she was a kid. A prickling sensation on the back of her neck, the unsettling certainty that something was right behind her, gaining ground. She didn't slow down, didn't dare to look back, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She rounded the corner with reckless abandon, desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the armored passage. As she rounded the corner though, fueled by fear and adrenaline, she ran right into something. It was a woman. A middle-aged woman, dressed in simple, practical clothing. A tray she carried, laden with plates piled high with food – a feast fit for a king, or at least a very hungry castle resident – went flying in all directions. Plates shattered on the stone floor, sending shards of porcelain skittering across the surface. Food splattered against the walls, leaving a colorful, if messy, abstract painting. Ivy and the woman screamed in shock and fright, theirvoices echoing in the vast, silent castle, shattering the tense atmosphere in a chaotic burst of noise and confusion. Spicy ran off.

Ivy's laughter was immediate and uncontrollable, bubbling up from her chest and spilling out into the corridor. She couldn't help it. The absurdity of her fear, the dramatic entrance she'd made, and the sheer chaos that surrounded them was too much. It was like a valve had been released, and all the tension flooded out in a torrent of giggles. The woman, however, didn't find the situation amusing. Her face was stark with terror, eyes wide and unblinking. Ivy's laughter stuttered to a halt as she took in the expression, feeling the humor drain away like water down a sink. "I'm sorry," she managed, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean to... I just got a bit nervous, you see, with the armor." She tried to chuckle, to lighten the mood, but it came out forced and hollow.

The smell of something delicious grew stronger. The scent was almost intoxicating. The smell of sizzling meat and the aroma of baked bread filled her nostrils, making her stomach growl with hunger.

The woman stared at her, trembling. "You're not supposed to be here," she whispered. "You're the girl....the one he's been keeping."

Ivy's stomach growled. "I couldn't stay in that room anymore; I was going stir crazy."

The woman looked at her with a mix of pity and fear. "You should go back," she urged, her eyes darting towards the kitchen. "Before he finds out."

But Ivy was too hungry to heed her warning. She dropped to her knees and began to gather the scattered food, her mouth watering at the sight of the roast chicken and vegetables. The woman watched her for a moment before setting down the tray and joining her.

"Miss, I'll get this you go," the woman said, her voice shaking. He'll be furious if he finds you here.

Ivy gave the woman a frown, her eyes never leaving the food on the floor. "Seriously? There's no way I can go back to just sitting in that room," she stated, her voice edged with a desperate kind of defiance. The thought of returning to that sterile, isolating space was unbearable. "Besides, I'm starving."

The woman sighed, understanding in her eyes. "I'll bring you something, but you have to promise me you'll stay out of sight."

"I will, thank you," Ivy whispered. The woman nodded, disappearing quickly into the kitchen.

Ivy took that opportunity to sneak away, her eyes scanning the corridor for any signs of Vice. When she was sure the coast was clear, she raced down the hallway, her feet silent on the cold stone floor. The need to explore the confines of her prison was more than just physical; it was a desperate bid for mental sanity.

She came upon a grand staircase. It's ancient stones whispering secrets of the castle's long, dark history. The air grew colder and damper, hinting at the hidden depths of this place that had become her world.

Her heart raced as she reached the bottom of the stairs. There she saw two heavy wooden doors, she realized they were the front doors. Freedom felt agonizingly close, the doors beckoning to her. The promise of freedom just on the other side. She made her way to them. To her surprise, the doors weren't locked.

She pushed the heavy doors open, a rush of cool air and the intoxicating perfume of jasmine blossoms immediately washing over her. For a fleeting moment, she froze, the unexpected beauty was breath taking. The feel of Spicy rubbing against her brought her back to reality. She reached down and rubbed his little head. To the imposing iron gate standing a short distance away. Relief surged through her as she saw it was ajar, an invitation to the freedom she desperately craved. Beyond the gate lay the dark, ominous woods. If she could somehow make it, she could finally find refuge from Vice and make her way back to her daughter.

Without looking back, Ivy sprinted out the castle doors and through the open gate, her feet pounding against the cold, damp earth. The darkness of the woods swallowed her whole, the rustling leaves and the distant howl of a wolf the only sounds to keep her company as twigs snapped beneath her feet, and the scent of rain-soaked soil filled her nose as she kept running driving herself deeper into the foliage.

Her heart hammered in her chest, a mix of fear and exhilaration fueling her escape. She didn't know where she was running to but anywhere was better than this prison. She couldn't believe she made it. She was sure he'd appear suddenly in front of her and drag her back. The branches of the trees clawing at her arms the further she went. Each step was one stepcloser to freedom, to her daughter, and away from the monster who'd claimed her freedom and body.

Once she was sure she was far enough away she stopped running. The forest so thick it almost blocked out the sun. The forest was alive with nocturnal sounds. A twig snapping almost made her jump out of her skin. She hurried along navigating the treacherous terrain, her feet stumbling over roots and rocks. The cold, damp earth was unforgiving, but she pushed on, driven by the hope that grew with every step.