Bella awoke in a panic, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild drum. Her breath came in rag gasps, the remnants of a horrifying nightmare still clinging to her consciousness. The terror had been so vivid, so realistic, that she found herself trembling uncontrollably, her body slick with a cold sweat. Her mind struggling to separate the nightmare from reality.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she turned her head upwards, her gaze falling upon a chilling sight. A chair stood ominously in the center of the room, its wooden frame adorned with leather belts and an array of tools that were clearly designed for torture. The floor beneath it was stained with patches of dried blood, a grim testament to the chair's gruesome purpose.
A wave of realization washed over Bella, she was in a room of the dungeon. She had been made to sleep here as a consequence for her mistake. A shiver ran down her spine as she noticed the cold, iron chain that bound her to the wall.
The room was dark and cold. The stone floor beneath her was unforgiving, its icy touch causing her exposed skin to ache. Bella found herself huddled in the corner of the room, her body curled up in an attempt to ward off the chill.
Fear gnawed at her insides. It had been almost two days since she had been locked up in here, but it was hard to believe that this would be all there was to it, or maybe it was... An idea crossed her mind making her shiver, how long would she be kept in here?
Bella found herself contemplating her options, her mind racing with thoughts of what she could possibly do to lessen her punishment. Perhaps if she begged for mercy and showed enough remorse, she might be spared further torment. The past few weeks had taught her resisting was futile, that any form of rebellion would only be worse for herself, it wasn't worth it.
Escape wasn't an option either, even if she somehow managed to escape the mansion, she bore the mark of a slave. It was a permanent brand, a mark that would ensure she would not get far without being detected. Any attempt at escape would only lead to more problems, more punishment.
This was her life now and there was nothing she could do about it. The best course of action, she decided, was obedience. She had little to no choice, this was the best way to guarantee her best possible life moving forward…
In the cold, dark confines of the dungeon, Bella had plenty of time to think and to reflect. It was hard to believe that this was where her life led to.
Bella's mind was a whirlpool of memories and emotions, each one more painful than the last. She remembered the first time she had dared to challenge her mistress, a foolish act of defiance born out of humiliation and pride of the dignity she thought she had and could retain. She had not yet learned to fear the whip, had not yet understood the true extent of her mistress's cruelty.
It had taken only ten strokes of the whip to break her spirit, to reduce her to a sobbing, whimpering mess, this truth made her feel pathetic.
Each stroke had been a searing line of fire across her back, a pain so intense, now she could feel the scars pulsating on her back. Repassing this memory, her angry face back then made her chuckle as she leaned against the wall.
Her thoughts turned to her sister, a figure from her past that for some reason she found hard to resent. After all this was the person she cried her heart out for days mourning the loss of her sibling, so many tears dedicated to her thought-to-be-dead sister.
Then, she remembered her sister's words, the harsh, bitter words that still echoed in her mind. 'I took everything from you? I'm not the one who sold you!!' The words rumbled inside her head.
In truth her fate had been sealed the moment she was sold, it didn't matter who bought her, whether it was her sister or some random stranger. Her situation would have been the same, if not worse. But that didn't make the betrayal she felt any less painful.
There were so many reasons she couldn't bring herself to hate her not so long ago beloved sister, and there was so much she didn't know. What had happened to her sister all these years? where had she been? why did she leave?, she was unrecognizable to her now...
Suddenly, an image of her parents flashed in her mind and a surge of anger.
It felt good to think of her parents, as to be able to feel the anger she couldn't otherwise, and so she dug through her memories, she remembered how unaffected they were when her sister disappeared, and the day they sold her. She knew the situation had been desperate and involved unexpected events, that not everything was her father's mismanagement fault, but their faces when she was taken away... didn't satisfy her. They had not shown much sadness, she felt disposable.
There it was, inside her, resentment. A burning, seething resentment that gave her a sense of comfort. It was their fault, all their fault...
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She wanted to keep ignoring her reality, to live in her memories, perhaps even fall asleep again. But the insistent growling of her stomach brought her back to the harsh present. It was a predicament, a battle between her physical needs and her mental awareness. Her stomach demanded food now, but she knew that the time to eat was several hours later.
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Her gaze was drawn to the door at the top of the stairs on the other side of the room. It was a heavy, wooden door, surface marred by scratches and dents. The door was her only connection to the outside world, her only source of hope and fear. The opening of that door could mean many things.
If it opened in a couple of hours and it was Dania who came through, it meant food. She would announce her entrance, probably out of habit, and bring a tray of food, usually some bread and soup, and leave it at the bottom of the stairs. She would then leave without a word, closing the door behind her.
But if the door opened before that, it would be Fiona, and that could mean...
She glanced at the chair in the middle of the room, the mere sight of the chair made her lose her breath. The prospect terrified her, now she couldn't keep her gaze off the door, her eyes wide with fear.
Every creak, every rustle made her jump, her heart pounding in her chest hugged her knees to her chest, her body shaking with fear and cold. She prayed for the door to remain closed, for the to pass quickly. But time seemed to have slowed down, each second stretching into an eternity.
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Half an hour had passed, and Bella's gaze remained fixed on the door. She had spent almost an hour waiting for it to open, for the inevitable, yet it remained immobile. She had been on edge, her heart pounding with anticipation, but all for naught.
She chastised herself for her paranoia. It was pointless to be so on edge, she thought. If it hadn't happened yesterday, nor the day before, there was a possibility today would be the same. She tried to relax, to let go of the fear that had been eating her from inside. She tried to believe that she was safe, at least for now.
Just as she was beginning to let her guard down, the creaking of the door startled her. Bella's every muscle tensed as she saw the door slowly open. She braced herself, preparing for the worst.
The figure that emerged from the darkness was holding a candle, its flickering light casting eerie shadows on the walls. It was Dania. Bella's heart skipped a beat. She didn't feel safe until she was sure that Fiona wasn't lurking behind her.
Dania was alone, but she didn't have any food. It wasn't mealtime yet. Bella's mind raced, trying to figure out why Dania was here. She watched as Dania approached, her steps slow and deliberate. There was something off. She was acting weird, she seemed to be trying to maintain her composure, her hands trembling slightly as she held the candle, like second guessing herself.
Dania remained silent as she approached Bella making her feel uncomfortable. "It's your fault, all of it, including what I'm about to do," Dania said, her words hanging in the air with unspoken implications. She reached out towards the defenseless and weakened Bella.
Bella recoiled, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't understand what was happening, what was she blaming her for. She felt a wave of fear wash over her, she could only watch in horror as Dania's hand moved closer.
