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The door flies open and one of my father’s men stalks in with her passed out and I realize the lunch she?

??s eaten must’ve ensured it. She’s placed on the table; a cold metal surgeon’s table and my body turns rigid.

Another person is brought inside, and I meet his gaze. My best friend. The only person who’s stood by me beside my brother. I hope Dante doesn’t come downstairs. He doesn’t need to watch this. Even though we’re the same age bar for a couple of minutes in between, I feel overly protective of my brother.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I hiss at River who finds his place beside me.

“I’m not letting you go through this alone.” His words are a salve. But I know they’ll never heal the brokenness inside me.

“Ah, young River. You’re here to enjoy the show?” My father glares at him and I know he doesn’t like my best friend. The only reason he keeps him around is because he’s the IT genius. He finished his schooling at seventeen, becoming a computer whiz at his father’s firm.

Coincidentally, River’s father is one of Malcolm’s biggest supporters in the underhanded dealings. I know it’s about to go downhill when two men stalk into the space, bodyguards, and they’re followed by three men and two women. All dressed immaculately, they seat themselves not far from the table.

We’re not to move. My father’s rules have always been very specific. Even though I can physically walk out here at any moment, I know I can’t because he’ll do something he’s threatened me with all my life. He’ll kill River and Dante. Two people who mean more to me than anything. So I sit.

Watching the scene play out before me. One I’ve watched so many times. The girl is lifted onto an apparatus that has her bound to an X shaped wooden cross. She’s naked, and her supple body causes my cock to throb.

That’s why we’re all broken here. Our minds have been fractured, and in the gaps where sanity should lie, we’ve been drenched in the depravity. Her eyes flutter open and they land on mine as if they’re opposite sides of a magnet.

Caia

The gathering watch me cry. The heat of the blood that drips from between my legs scorches me.

“Please,” I whimper. It’s almost inaudible, but he hears me. I know he does. But all I receive in response is a chuckle.

“What do you think, ladies?” he questions the onlookers. The two women who were earlier dressed in beautiful evening dresses have the material bunched up to their hips with their legs spread wide and two boys who look to be my age between their thighs. The men who were seated beside the women have their gazes locked on me. Their hands move over their thick erections as they grunt and smirk.

“Why don’t we test her ability for pain? If I’m going to spend ten million on a toy, I’d want to make sure she can handle a bit of rough,” one man offers me a wink that recoils my stomach. The incisions on my stomach already burn with the puke that’s dripped from my chin, but when one of the women finds her release, she grips the boys head, and just like in the movie they’d forced me to watch, she pulls a sleek blade from the holster on her thigh and slices through his neck as if it’s a hot knife cutting through butter.

Revulsion shoots through me when I’m impaled with a thick handle of a blade that was used only moments ago to trail blood red lines over my white flesh. My eyes flutter, I’m weary. This is far too much for me to handle.

I glance at the white-haired boy.

He shakes his head sadly as he watches the scene unfold. He told me I was weak. If I cried, only worse would happen and he’s right. Well, he was right because I’m losing consciousness.

The men were here to get off from the pain they inflicted.

Another girl is brought in, she is younger, smaller, but the two large men didn’t care. Once more, I was hooked up to a vibrator that offered pleasure, pressed tightly against my mound as I watched the gruesome scene before me.

The girl is pretty, she giggles as if she’s high. Perhaps she is and doesn’t even realize she’s about to be killed. I open my mouth, but I’m quickly stopped by the large ogre looking man. There’s a harsh material that’s shoved into my mouth and I’m choking on the fine filaments of hair, and the taste of metallic residue. I’m certain it’s blood, but what makes me retch is the fact that I know it’s not mine.

“Shhh, little one, tonight you’ll see what it is we really do here,” the ogre tells me proudly. The girl is bound to the table before me, her legs are spread wide and I watch as one of the women walks up to her. It’s the same one who just killed a boy.

She leans in, inspecting the girl as if she were a painting at the Louvre. Her fingers trail down the smooth porcelain flesh of the young girl. When she reaches between her legs, she nods. Prodding the girl’s opening.

A giggle falls from the girl’s lips and I know for a fact that they’ve given her something. There’s no way she can be happy with her body on display like that.

“Is she to your specifications?” The old man grins like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“She is, I’ll need this done tonight,” the woman responds. I don’t know what is happening, but the girl is bound to the table and as the older man places a silver scalpel to her stomach, he presses down and crimson floods the table immediately.

“How far along is she?” The second woman questions as she rises, pulling the boy that was between her thighs along behind her like a dog on a leash.

“Two months, it’s just the perfect amount of time,” the man in the white coat informs her.

“Good, then we’ll take whatever you can salvage.” I’m tortured with the device between my legs as the man in the white coat begins his incisions to the girl’s body. Below her belly button, I stare in horror as he slices through her flesh easily.

She’s numb, because there are no screams, no cries or whimpers from her. She doesn’t feel anything. Her body is limp as he lifts a layer of her stomach and shoves his hand into her.