Like A Moth To A Flame

Prologue

I couldn’t see.

My eyes were open, but I saw nothing but darkness.

When I moved my hand to try to clear whatever was blocking my vision, the rattle of chains and a cold, hard tug around my wrists greeted me.

Realization slowly dawned on me. I was trapped in a place of unimaginable horror, where pain and suffering were my only companions.

It wasn’t a dream.

It wasn’t a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

I was still here.

I had hoped that when I woke up, I’d be somewhere else. I had hoped that, maybe, I wouldn’t wake up at all.

I searched for light, but the darkness remained, suffocating me like a hand around my throat. The stench of damp decay lingered in the air, assaulting my senses with a nauseating intensity. It was a constant reminder that there was no end, at least not that I could see.

Footsteps echoed through the darkness, moving closer. Someone was here. I could hear them, even if I couldn’t see them. I could sense them the way a rabbit on the prairie sensed a predator at night. I could feel eyes on me, coaxing my skin into goosebumps.

Every limb tensed painfully and folded in on myself. I expected the worst, the return of the pain or the bite of cold water as they scrubbed me, but none of it came.

“Hello?” I whispered, my voice straining. “Is someone there?”

I heard a sharp intake of breath.

“It’s okay, Vanessa. Everything will be alright.”

A voice cut through the silence, a voice that offered hope in the darkness, and it belonged to a man. It was gentle and soothing, but terrifyingly unfamiliar. It whispered words of false comfort, and I knew every single one was a lie.

Everything was not okay, and it never would be again.

Everything hurt.

My body screamed with pain, every movement sending waves of agony through me. The confinement of the cage had taken its toll, leaving my muscles cramped and joints aching.

Warm hands reached out to pull me from my prison, and I couldn’t help but cry out, my throat raw and bleeding. They dragged me across the unforgiving floor, the cold concrete seeping into my bones, and the roughness of it grinding the flesh from my legs until I felt the burning sting of fresh wounds.

The darkness wrapped around me as I looked around, eyes wide as I searched for a sign of something—anything to tell me who was doing this to me.

It felt as though someone had stolen my sight, leaving me blind and vulnerable.

Had they taken my eyes? Plucked them out entirely?

Maybe not. I could still feel the burn of my tears.

As I lay there, gasping for breath, I couldn’t help but wonder what they had done to me. The unknown terrified me more than my memories.

“Why am I here?” I asked, my voice shaking. “What do you want?”

This was the first time in a lot of days that I could remember more than bits and pieces of my torture. Before today, every moment of waking was brief and ended with the sharp stab of a needle and the burn of medication flooding my veins. Afterward, I’d fall in and out of restless sleep, but not today.

Why now?

For too many days to count, I lived with fragmented memories and snippets of pain, but today was different. Something had changed. Was it a mistake, or a deliberate act of mercy?

A mix of hope and horror washed over me. The loss of the sedative was both a blessing and a curse. It allowed me to remember, but it left me painfully awake for whatever they had planned. I clung to my clarity, with an internal vow not to let them take it again.

They wouldn’t take it.

I wouldn’t let them.

I would fight. I’d fight with everything I had left in me, but how much did I have left to give?

Was it enough?

The seconds passed into minutes, and then time seemed to stand still. His shaking breath was the only thing that sounded around us, and I could hear it coming in faster, shaking bursts.

What was he planning?

I heard a grunt and then felt the unmistakable touch of hands pushing my thighs apart and pulling at the fabric of my shorts, and finally, I understood.

Horrifically, I understood.

I opened my mouth to scream, but all I managed was a sharp exhale of air and a groan of pain. He hadn’t bothered to unbutton my shorts, instead ripping them down and jolting me with an electrical bolt of pain through my hips.

“W-what are you—What are you doing?!”

It took more effort than it should have to get the words out, but by the time I did, he’d pulled off my shorts completely and tossed them across the room, judging by the sound.

I could feel his hot, unwanted touch on my exposed skin, and a shiver of revulsion coursed through me. I would have vomited if I had had anything to bring up.

“Stop! What are you doing?!”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I pleaded with him, my voice trembling.

But there was no empathy in his touch. I could feel it in the way his fingers pushed and probed, touching places another human hand had never touched before. I was at his mercy, a prisoner to his twisted desires.

He quickly removed the digits as he moved over me, and shortly after, something else took their place.

As the room fell into an eerie silence, the only sounds that filled the air were my gasping cries, his grunts, and the thumping of my heart.

I wished for death, but it didn’t come.

No matter how hard I begged, it never came.

“Please,” I whispered, my cheek scraping against the cold, unforgiving concrete as he continued to push against me. “I need h-help. Please…”

I looked up, my eyes searching through the darkness, and I saw the unthinkable—a sliver of light, and the warmth of my savior’s gaze.