Apr 25, 2014
brokeninwhole
Blood.
Blood everywhere. Bright red, seeping, most of it hers. It was cold in that basement, the air thick and feeling damp, weighing down on her blonde hair. She could hear him coming, walking down the steps, each one creaking softly from the weight of his body making its way down.
August held her breath, counting his steps and wincing before he approached. Him. Her captor. She didn’t know his name. She’d only been there for a night, lured to him and then taken to that pitch-black room.
