17 - Harper
W hen I wake up, I can’t seem to find my focus.
My eyes feel heavy and my head hurts, everything hurts.
I try to rub my eyes but my hands are held back by something.
I pull on them and hear the sound of chains.
When I crane my head, I see my hands are tied with old rusty cuffs anchored into the wall at the head of the bed.
I take in my surroundings and see that I’m lying on an old mattress.
I can feel the coils dig into my back, my shimmering dress is gone and I’m wearing a jersey and sweatpants.
I’m lying in a small room; it smells old and rotten with grey walls and only one small window at the top of the wall on my right.
Beneath it is a small metal table and chair and next to it stands a bucket. Where the hell am I?
I hear footsteps in the hall outside the room and I tense up.
The locks on the door turn and a man steps inside.
He is wearing a shirt that is actually too tight around his muscled torso, and I can see the tattoos on his arms and in his neck.
Over his face he wears a mask but I can’t see his eyes due to the mesh in front of them.
In his hands he holds a tray which he sets on t he table.
I can hear the chain that’s dangling from his jeans pocket.
“Good, you’re awake.” His voice is low and ruff like he smokes two packs of cigarettes a day.
He reaches over me to undo the lock on the chain on the wall but replaces it with the chain he has with him.
Then he does the same to the end attached to my handcuffs.
This chain is longer than the previous one.
I say nothing, I hardly dare to breathe.
“There’s your food.” He gestures to the table.
I try to find my voice, “I need to go to the bathroom.” I whisper.
“That’s what the bucket is for, filthy whore.”
He walks out of the room and I hear the locks turn again, locking me inside again.
I walk over to the table, the chain dragging behind me wherever I go and see something that looks like stew, a bread roll and a glass of water.
It doesn’t smell half bad actually. I can smell tomatoes and spices like basil and rosemary.
It reminds me of Carmen’s cooking. Tears prick behind my eyes and I let them fall.
What would Alessia be doing now? How can she ever find me if I don’t even know where I am?
I take a seat on the metal chair and let out a breath.
I stir the spoon in the stew and decide to take a bite.
If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me already.
Probably with a bullet through my head instead of poisoning me.
I lift the spoon to my mouth and this is the most delicious stew I ever tasted.
I question why they would bring me decent food instead of something awful, but I don’t mind it at all and within minutes my plate is empty.
The light that’s coming through the window is getting darker, soon I won’t have any daylight.
I don’t see a light switch or bulb so I guess I’ll be in complete darkness come nightfall.
I really need to pee, but no way I’m going on a fucking bucket.
So, I lay back down on the rickety mattress and try to get some sleep, my head still foggy from whatever they used to knock me out.
The days pass by, I think it’s day seven now.
I only see the same guy that brought me dinner on the first night.
Twice a day he comes by, once for breakfast in the morning and the second time for dinner in the evening.
The bucket finally won our little staring competition, and minion number one empties it when he brings me food.
I haven’t showered in days so at least the bucket isn’t the only thing that smells.
I still have no idea where I am or where Alessia is, if she’s alright and if she’s coming to find me.
I have counted each brick in this godforsaken room twenty times by now and I’m getting stir crazy.
Probably the idea of the one who put me in here.
I am kind of getting used to the mattress although my back is killing me by now.
At least it’s better than sleeping on the floor.
Sleep catches up with me when I think of home, of Alessia’s scent and her gorgeous blue eyes.
I drift off in a peaceful sleep, the first I had in days.
It is the middle of the night when I am roughly awakened.
Someone puts a cotton bag over my head, I can’t see a damn thing and the person unchains my hands.
I am thrown over someone’s shoulder and hauled away.
I’m carried upstairs and we make a few turns before I hear a door open and I ’m thrown down on a chair.
My hands are bound behind the back of the chair, then I feel something cold and thin under my chin and it slices through my shirt, exposing my bare breasts.
I feel the cold metal from the knife again but this time just below my navel.
The man slices through the crotch of my leggings like they are nothing.
Fragments of clothing hang off my body, I’m completely exposed.
Somebody kneels in front of me and cuffs my ankles to the legs of the chair, I try to kick myself free but it’s no use.
No way to defend myself now. The person hovers between my legs and inhales deeply.
“Mmmm, I love the smell of pussy in the evening.” His accent sounds thick and Italian.
“Step away from her.” Another man bellows from further away.
The man steps away and I try to listen to every sound I can.
“Good evening, Harper, welcome to Italy.” The man says and somebody rips the bag of my head.
My vision is blinded by the light in the room so it takes me a while to get my bearings.
In front of me stands a man in a well-tailored navy Armani suit with cognac-colored shoes.
I gather all the saliva I have in my mouth and aim for the shoes; it’s a straight hit.
SLAP.
I’m hit right on my cheek and my head whips to the side. Tears sting in my eyes and my cheek feels heated. I can taste the blood in my mouth and spit again, this time on the floor beside me.
“Who t he fuck are you and what do you want from me?” my tone laced with venom.
“Oh, so Alessia’s whore has a big mouth on her.”
“Yeah, got a problem with that? Now, who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Gianni, you have probably heard of me, especially after my little gift last week.” His tone is condescending, like he’s talking to a child.
“Oh, you’re the asshole who thought it would be funny to paint a literal bullseye on me. Thank you for that by the way.”
“Yeah…” He sighs. “Seeing as Alessia didn’t want to play nice, I had to bring you here, to Rome. Maybe now she’ll follow my lead. That is…” His voice trails off.
“That is… What?” I ask.
“That is if she ever finds out where you are of course.”
Terror fills my stomach, of course she will never find me. She probably still thinks I’m in Los Angeles, or at least within the US borders. I need to find a way to get out of here, sooner rather than later, before I really end up dead.
I look around me and it’s now that I notice multiple minions around the room.
Gianni crouches down in front of me.
“You see, Harper, I thought of a fun little game you and I could play with Alessia. It’s like a scavenger hunt so maybe one day she will find you. The question remains whether you will be alive, or if it is just your body that she’ll find. Until then my men get to have some fun with you.”
“YOU S ICK MOTHERF-” Another blow lands across my face before I can finish my insult. I channel all my hatred for him into my eyes before the bag is placed over my head again.
I hear Gianni walk out of the room and the door closes behind me.
Strange, calloused hands caress my skin.
Bile creeps up my throat. Another pair of hands touch my crotch and I hear the click of a Polaroid camera.
The minions laugh among themselves and fingers penetrate me.
I can’t keep the bile down anymore and puke inside the bag that’s over my head.
“Goddammit, she puked herself! Oi, you! Go get a bucket of water and tear that piece of cloth over there.” Someone says.
The bag is pulled from my head and within an instant I’m covered in ice cold water. My vision is blurry and before it becomes clear a piece of cloth is pulled back over my eyes and tied behind my head.
“We’re not done with you yet, you dirty slut. My friend here is going to give you something else to gag on.”
Tears wet my blindfold, this can’t be happening to me.
“I’m going to fuck that mouth of yours now. If you bite me, you’ll get a bullet between your eyes.”
I feel the steel nuzzle of a gun pressed to my forehead.
“Open wide slut, I like it when they cry for me.”
His dick slaps against my lips and hands grip my jaw to pull my mouth open. I thrash against the back of the chair, trying anything to make them stop but nothing works. The blindfold is now completely drenched with my tears. I can hear the men grunting.
“Oh fuck… I’m going to cum” The man before me grunts. Bile rises up again and I heave against his dick.
“Fucking hell, I want to paint those titties.” Another man next to me says and seconds later I feel warm drops land on my chest. I heave again and the guy attached to the dick in my mouth starts shaking.
“Yes, little slut, that’s it!”
I can feel his cum spurt into my mouth. He pulls his dick out and holds my mouth shut.
“Be a good whore and swallow.’ His voice dripping with disdain.
I wildly shake my head. He pinches my nose until I have no other option than to swallow and breathe. He releases me and within seconds the contents of my stomach are on the floor.