Chapter seven
"All that red... So beautiful to see," He whispered with reverential tone as he observed the pool of blood forming beneath her. However, his expression quickly soured. "But it's a bit too much."
"Hey! Fetch the tapes and spirit. I'm not allowing her to bleed out, not yet." he ordered sharply before turning his attention back to her. He clicked his tongue, smirking, "Nice try. You won't escape me that easily, honey not with all the stress I went through."
A guard complied and produced the spirit and tape. The sound of it being torn from the roll resonated through the room. With a deliberate, torturous pace, He poured the spirit on the wound before he began to wind the tape around the wound.
The adhesive on the tape was exceptionally strong, causing it to cling tenaciously to her skin, even amidst the blood. The intense pain was blinding, momentarily washing Estella's vision in a stark white.
The pain was almost unbearable, yet she suppressed her cries, not making a sound.
The guards face contorted with frustration. He let out a series of curses, his anger mounting as she continued to defy his expectations by maintaining her agonising silence.
"You're not giving me any music, damn it!" he seethed. "Cry, scream, do something!"
Estella only response was a fresh welling of tears, her eyes fixed on him with a defiant glare.
In a fit of rage, he crawled closer and delivered a brutal slap to her cheek that reverberated through the room. "Cry!" he barked, the demand punctuated by a relentless barrage of slaps raining down on both sides of her face.
As a witness to all of these, Estella was all familiar with the pleasure derived from a victim's wails, she could feel the satisfaction it gave her parents killer when they were killed and he still killed her… she was sure that even if she begged, he was still going to kill her so she is not going to beg, she’s ready to die with her head high.
That knowledge was precisely why she was determined to deny him that satisfaction, even if it meant inviting more torture upon herself...even if it meant enduring unbearable pain. With any luck, it'll push him over the edge and he'd kill her faster.
Estella couldn't keep track of how many times he struck her, her ears ringing, her face growing heavy and sore. Yet, she remained silent.
"That's how you wanna do it, huh?" His fury unabated, He seized her ankle and twisted it with a vicious force.
A sickening crack filled the air, the unmistakable sound of her leg breaking.
It hurts...badly. Her teeth sank into her lower lip until she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood. It was all she could do to hold back the scream that had built at the back of her throat. Her eyes burned with tears, her heart burned with hatred for this man.
"Scream!!!" he roared, his voice echoing with rage as he gripped her broken leg. He squeezed hard until all Estella could see, all she could breathe, was excruciating agony.
All of a sudden, a loud crash broke the silence as the dungeon’s door flew open. In an instant, everything went into a frenzy. The guards looked up sharply and quickly reached out for their weapons. They didn't get far, though.
Two figures stormed into the room with lightning-fast moves. Their auras were so strong it almost, almost made her jump but beneath the aura was a delicious smell. She was shocked she couldn’t hear the other guards anymore, probably he had knocked out the guards but in seconds?. Estella’s vision was blurry, and she couldn't see the figures clearly. She was also trying so hard not to pass out from the pain coursing through her body.
The leader of the guards that was tormenting her jumped up in panic, but a strong hand grabbed him. An unfamiliar voice filled the room with anger. "YOU BASTARD!!" However, for some unknown reason it gave her an undeniable sense of relief .
"Help," Estella whispered as she felt a rush of emotions all at once—relief, happiness, and most importantly, a profound sense of safety.
Someone had come for her. Someone she doesn’t seem familiar had actually came to rescue her.
Something inside her broke. She heard a woman's voice weeping, and it took her a moment to realise that it was her own voice.
Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision, cleansing her soul. She was safe.
She was finally safe and she could still get revenge on her parents' murderers, because someone had come to rescue her.
"I've got you, baby. I've got you, shhh," the stranger’s deep manly soothing voice whispered directly into her ear. In an instant, he appeared by her side, his powerful arms tenderly enveloping her frail form as he gently lifted her from the bed.
The moment she was cradled against him, the unfamiliar delicious scent of him washed over her, filling her senses with a profound sense of comfort and security. She inhaled deeply, as though the essence of him could replenish her strength, as though she needed it more urgently than oxygen itself.
It felt like he could sense her unspoken desperation, as he pressed her face against his solid, chiselled chest.
"I'm so sorry, baby, so sorry I was late," the stranger’s voice quivered with remorse as he peppered her face with tender kisses, avoiding the areas marred by swollen bruises. His embrace around her tightened, his own frame trembling with a mixture of relief and sorrow.
No, you weren't late. Estella wanted to reassure him, but her body remained unresponsive. It only allowed her the faintest movement of her lips, a breathy attempt at communication. However, the soft sobs of a female voice still hung in the air around them, tears streaming down her eyes.
The stranger’s own body was shaking. His throat constricted by a rush of emotions too potent to put into words. His gaze fell upon all the blood that stained her, and his heart squeezed tight in his chest.