Loving You Is My Sin

Elena's pov:

I can hear the loud creaking sound of the iron door that lead to the dimly lit room in which am being held captive. 

The creaking sound that i've gotten so used to, always signify the arrival or departure of my crazy and heartless torturer. Wish there are more hateful words to describe demons like him. 

My heartbeats picked up it's pace. Syncing with the clicking sound his shoes make after each contact with the roughly paved floor.

The louder the sound, the closer he is. 

Striding in gracefully, he stopped midway into the room with a shiny black briefcase clutched tightly in his left hand and i immediately shut my eyes half closed, pretending to be asleep.

He threw a quick glance my way before venturing further into the room. He stopped by the wooden table place at the center of the room, dropped the black suitcase in his had on the table, and the clattering sound of metals soon follows as he carelessly dump the content of the briefcase on the table. 

The sound of the metals coming from the middle of the room spiked my curiosity, although i knew the sound itself is not a good sign, but my curiosity got the best out of me.

Carefully opening my half closed lids, I risked a quick glance at what he was busy arranging on the the table with back turned to me and I regret my action immediately.

A cold chill of fear ran through my spine, and my heart start to thump so loudly that i could hear it without listening too hard. 

My whole being was immediately overpowered by fear when I saw another set of torturing metal instrument that looks different from the ones he used on me yesterday. They look new then reality hits me, the sick bastard bought new ones.

He bought new ones when the wounds from yesterday are still fresh and open, now he's back to inflict more. 

"You're a devil!" I silently screamed in my head. 

I don't know which month it is how long I've spent here, but he do bring me cakes every once in a while, claiming it's my birthday.

Most times, he'll come with his accomplice, a masked man who wouldn't utter a word, but will only sit down on one of the wooden chair that was placed at the eastern corner of the room to watch me being brutally downgraded and abused, sometimes, he also would partake in the devlish act.

Infact he's more brutal and his mask makes him look ugly..

He's here today without him, that's a little relief.

He always come to torture me everyday, deriving pleasure in my pains and agonies, leaving only when he is satisfied with the damage he had done to my body and smiling evilly with a sick smile etched to his face.

Sometimes, I feel like scrapping that smile of his face with my overgrown nails. I wish to hear him scream the same way he'd make me scream, and watch him plead for mercy. 

My screams must sound like music to his ears, as he enjoys to hear it repeatedly.

"Yes bitch, scream!. Scream like the whore you are!'' He will always yell at me.

"I'm not a bitch!" I will defiantly retort back angrily and that's when the torture will start. He hates to be defied or talked back to.

"Now you get some nerves huh!"  he would reply, chuckling lightly before bringing out the iron laced whip he always had with him. 

The first strike is always the most painful, he will strike down hard on my skin with full force and energy, striking repeatedly whilst drawing blood with each strike. 

I'll scream out in agony as the pain from the impacts slowly seep through my skin, eroding my brain until my body grows completely numb.

My body is filled with different bruises, ranging from old to new, deep to shallow, open wounds and scars, all of which were inflicted on me by the monster in human form standing in front of me with his back turned. 

He turned away from the table to face me, making me to close my semi-opened eye with quick reflex and returning back to my state of pretence.

"Wakie wakie!" he called out in the teasing voice i hate to hear.

Pretending to be nice doesn't suit him. 

I once fell for that shit, and thats exactly what led me here.

I hate to see or hear him talk, his very existence makes me sick. He disgust me.

"Open that filthy eye of yours or i'll do it for you!" he yelled with an unmistakable threat hidden in his word. 

I yanked my eyes open immediately, whilst standing up shakily with the support of my cage bar for the fear of what he may do if I did not oblige to his request.

"My..my.. Finally, you're awake. You look so beautiful today my dear Elena" he exclaimed, with a glint of adoration in his forest green eyes. 

It's difficult to keep track of his constant change of mood, this minute he's yelling and the next, he's playing nice in his own sick and disgusting way.

"What's beautiful about me now huh?', I mused quietly. 

It's hard to believe this man was once my uncle.

Clearly, he no longer is because no uncle in his sane mind will abduct his niece, torture, degrade and rape her endlessly, this man is obviously devoid of humanity, but i dare not voice my thought.

The dark scar on my right arm is there to remind me of what happened the last time i did.

"Let's get down to today's business, shall we?" He said looking at me straight in the eye. 

I know he's trying intimidate me by doing that, trying to instill fear in me but I won't give in, i won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble with fear. 

I avert my gaze from him to the table behind him and even what's on it is not a good sight to see, its content send another waves of fear through me,  but still, it's better than staring at the scumbag's face.

"We have a lot to do today and i also have some new friends for you. It's only right for you get to meet them before the game start, right?" he inquired.

I shifted my gaze to him immediately. He had a sinister smile on his face. 

The moment those words left his mouth, my legs grew weak beneath me and I flumped to the cold floor of my metal cage. 

He had me locked up in a small metal bar cage that is barely large enough for me to stretch my limbs or switch side when sleeping.

"'I'll be keeping you in there, that's your new home. Don't even think of escaping from me." He had said on the day he kidnapped and brought me here. 

To tell the truth, I see no hope of getting away from this hell hole, no matter how much I wish to.

I've tried many times, but the result is always the same. Fruitless as always.

He would imprint a mark on my skin with hot iron rod after each fruitless escape attempt to remind me of how many times i've tried to escape.

"I missed my family, I just wish to see them, I promise i won't say a word to them" I would plead as the hot iron burn through my flesh.

A strayed tear find it's way to my cheek and I wiped it away with the back of my dirt-coated hand. 

I can't remember the last time I had my bath. 

He turned away from me to inspect all the instrument he had perfectly arranged on the table, then he clasp his hands together.

"Now, let the game begin!"