Au Pair

All Rights Reserved

© 2017 Luna Black

~*~

I woke up, startled, to the sound of something being rattled. Like someone hitting chains against the concrete floor.

My teeth gritted in a feeble attempt to hold back the whimper that wanted to leave my lips at the pounding in my head. It felt like someone was trying to break my skull from the inside.

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I tried to adjust them to the darkness.

There was a dim light in the far corner, barely bright enough to light up the shithole I was currently in, but it was bright enough to allow me to see myself.

I inspected my hands and legs, making sure they still worked and groaned as the ringing in my head intensified. It was driving me crazy.

A loud clang echoed through the room, followed by heavy footsteps and a woman whimpered.

I frowned, looking up and realised that I was trapped in a cell of sorts. There were thin, steel bars surrounding me, almost like if I had been thrown inside an old prison cell.

The footsteps stopped in front of me and the man rattled the keys loudly as he looked for one to open the cell. Once the door was open, he threw the woman that was whimpering in by her hair and quickly locked the door again.

"Please!" Women all around began to chant. "Please let us go!" They shook the steel bars, making the pain in my head intensify at the cringeworthy noise and I quickly covered my ears.

I was in too much pain and too tired to beg anyone to let me go, let alone fight my way out. I was crazy, not stupid.

The woman next to me groaned, rubbing her head and spat away from me. She wiped her bruised knuckles against her bloodied mouth and eyed me curiously with eyes inhumanly bright.

"Where are we?"

I was the first one to speak after the room silenced. The women no longer begged to be released, they just cried softly, begging to any god for help.

She shrugged, wincing in pain and held her shoulder. "A prison of sorts, but I'm unsure of the location."

I didn't say anything else for a couple of seconds. I was trying to remember what happened, but my memory was blurred, hazy.

I remembered getting ready to meet Luca for our date and I remember seeing my bïtch of a sister try and seduce him. At the thought, I quickly tried to ignore all the what ifs that entered my mind.

I should've stayed and fought her, maybe none of this would've happened.

Then, there was the man that kept calling me Veronica. I didn't understand anything he was saying, I just knew it had nothing to do with me and he needed to let me go.

That's where my memory grows hazy. It's where I can no longer determine what happened or what was part of my imagination.

I knew he covered my mouth with something and suddenly I was consumed by darkness. Then I woke up in whatever hell I was in.

I cleared my throat. "What happened to you?"

It was clear she'd been here for a few days. Pretty red hair that was probably shiny at one point was tangled with blood and dirt, and bruises painted skin that should have been pale and unblemished.

She was quiet for a bit, still eyeing my curiously, as if determining if I was trustworthy enough. "Ulysses."

I shook my head, not understanding. "What about him?"

She breathed in deeply, wincing again and raised her fingertips up to her head, rubbing the spot gently. Her movements were so graceful and controlled as if she'd been trained to be the image of perfection. "He gets off on our pain."

"What the hell," I whispered, my confusion growing even more. "What kind of place is this?!"

She shrugged again, running her tongue over her bottom lip and grimaced. "Ulysses says it's to prep us for his customers."

My mouth dried and I forced myself to gulp, trying to moisten my coarse throat. "He's selling us?"

She nodded sagely. "He is of the lowest scum."

Fear knotted deep in my stomach and I quickly stood up, suddenly understanding the anguish that all the woman felt. I screamed, shaking the bars with all the force I could muster.

"It's no use," the woman whispered, cuddling up to the wall, "we've all tried it."

She didn't sound like she had given up, it was more like she was accepting her fate. She didn't even sound helpless, it was like her voice was naturally quiet.

A quiet sob wrecked through my chest and I whimpered, falling to my knees with my head pressed against the cool bars.

"I do not mean to frighten you," she spoke again, softly, "but Ulysses will come for you eventually and when he does, you have to make sure you give him what he wants."

"What's that?" I croaked, watching helplessly as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

"He gets off on pain," she repeated, "you have to make sure you beg him and cry; it's the only way he'll end your suffering quickly."

I didn't say anything in response. I just pressed my cheek against the cool bars and closed my eyes, crying silently.

My face was covered in sweat and tears, making my hair stick to my face uncomfortably. I was still wearing my outfit from whatever day I had been preparing for my date with Luca, but I had no jewellery or shoes.

The room smelled of fear. It was a mixture of urine and old sweat, it made me gag. The temperature didn't seem to help, either. It wasn't hot or cold, it was extremely humid, though, which made everything feel even worse.

My shoulders trembled as I continued crying, cursing everything I could think of.

"Shush!" She hissed, straightening her back, "Stop crying, someone is coming."

I strained and listened, but couldn't hear anything, and was about to ask what she meant, when the heavy footsteps began again and the room broke into a cacophony of sobs and pleads for release. I didn't know what came over me, but I didn't cry and beg like the rest.

I just stayed in the same position and shut my eyes, hoping that it was just a sick dream.

"Get up, sweet cheeks," His voice was filled with malice. He opened the gate, making my body slump to the side and he reached down to grab a handful of my hair, "You're next."

I hissed, reaching up to claw at his hands, but he laughed and yanked at my scalp even harder, making me dizzy. He raised me by my hair, making me stand up and then three me over his shoulder.

I huffed, too weak to put up a fight and in too much pain from his shoulder impacting my stomach.

Everything suddenly became extremely bright. The walls were painted white, the floors were white tiles and overhead was a fluorescent light.

I squinted my eyes, trying to shield them from the sudden change in lighting and he continued walking, whistling a rather obscure tune.

I don't know how long he walked, I just know we suddenly came to a stop because my body stopped swinging. The keys jiggled, almost an evil laugh as they teased me away from freedom.

He pushed the door open, throwing me on the floor and quickly locked it behind him.

I stayed on the floor for a couple of seconds, trying to steady the balance in my body and slowly sat up.

The room was still bright and white. It wasn't very big, it almost looked like the size of a master bathroom. There was a white couch in the middle, a love-seat.

It was covered in transparent plastic, as to prevent it from getting dirty and on every corner of the room where cameras.

I gritted my teeth, pulling my knees up to my chest and snapped my head up at the sound of the door opening.

Ulysses strode in the room with a bright smile and a glass of red wine. "My beautiful Veronica," he cooed, sitting on the couch with a leg resting on his knee. "You thought you could run and hide from me, huh?"

"I'm not Veronica," My voice was low, raspy.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Do you really think I'm going to fall for that ruse again? Your mother told me that your twin sister killed herself when you stole her husband." He laughed, evilly quietly. "Now, I knew you were a bïtch, but stealing your twin sister's fiancé? That's just cold."

I clenched my jaw, the news of my supposed suicide fuelling me with anger. "I am not Veronica. My mother is an evil bïtch and you're clearly too stupid to realise that they're playing you."

His eyes snapped down and he glared at me, cold and uncaring. The massive gold ring on his finger twinkled in the light and he played with it, twirling it around with his thumb, almost menacingly; as if to send a silent threat.

"I've got to say, you do have a tongue on you. You should know better than to talk back to me, Roni."

I snorted. Veronica hated that nickname. "My name is Daniela."

Ulysses stood up, placing his wine cup on the couch's armrest. "Come here, Daniela," he spat my name, as if playing along with whatever game he thought I was playing.

I didn't move, I just stared up at him defiantly.

"Come here," he hissed, clenching his fists at his sides.

I shrugged. "Say the magic word."

He raised an eyebrow, something dark flashing across his eyes and he took a step toward me. I didn't flinch when he raised his hand and that didn't seem to please him.

His fingers wrapped around my hair and he yanked my head back, so that I was forced to look up at him. "You're pissing me off, Veronica. You really don't want to have a repeat of the last time we were together."

"Don't tell me she fücked you too," I scoffed, "piece of advice, get tested for an STI. Veronica is known to carry those."

The smack that followed took me by surprise, but I bit back the cry. I breathed in deeply, raggedly and kept looking down at the floor.

Ulysses knelt, pinning a knee on either side of me to keep me on the floor and grabbed my jaw, squeezing tightly. "It seems that you need a reminder of what I'm capable of doing, Roni."

"See," I smiled, "it's not going to be a reminder because I'm not my sister-"

Another slap.

I gritted my teeth again, not looking up as I regained my composure. He thought that he could break me. He thought that I was Veronica. He thought that I was genuinely afraid of him.

He just didn't realise that I wasn't my sister.

I was the one that endured the beatings. For both Veronica and me. Whenever she did something that enraged my mother, she would take her frustration out on me.

There were days that she'd leave me sprawled on the floor without any type of remorse. I was in too much pain to move or cry and I soon learned how to play the game.

I'd just have to become numb to her. Like Ulysses, my mother got off on my pain.

When I didn't cry or beg her to stop, she'd grow tired of me. I was fully aware of how to play this game. For years I mastered it; there was nothing Ulysses could do that I hadn't already endured.

"It seems that the little bit of time I let you spend with your bïtch of a husband erased your memory of who I am."

"I'm not married."

His hand wrapped around my throat and he smiled as he squeezed. Slowly, his smile disappeared, the lack of fight in me seemed to surprise him.

I just focused on breathing. They were quick and ragged, but I wasn't about to pass out from the fire building in my lungs.

He slapped me again, this time turning the ring around to make sure it bruised my cheekbone. I silently cursed, trying not to let him know just how painful it felt.

"Fine," he growled, "let's play." He pushed me down on my back and pinned me down with his knees, making sure that I wouldn't be able to get away from him.

I lay under him, limply and unfazed as he ripped the buttons of my skirt off, unzipping it loudly. Every nerve on my body screamed, demanding that I put up a fight, but I wouldn't give him the pleasure.

His hands felt rough and grimy as they yanked the skirt down my thighs and he suddenly stopped. "What the fück is that?!"

I raised my head, looking down to where he was looking. "A tattoo."

He curled his lip over his teeth, growling. "I fücking know what it is, Veronica! Why do you have it?! I told you I don't like tattoos on women!"

I shrugged. "I told you I'm not Veronica." I rubbed my wrist, removing the makeup and said, "I have another one here."

Ulysses growled out a curse, standing up and kicked my thigh. My eyes widened momentarily, but I didn't let out a squeak.

He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him and I let out a sigh.

My thigh fücking hurt. And, so did my cheeks, they burned from the stoning of his hands.

I slowly sat up, fixing my skirt and crawled over to the wall. I leaned against it, toughening myself up. I wasn't going to let him break what Luca helped me build. I refused to crumble under him like a piece of bread.

He'd have to kill me before anything.

A couple of minutes later, the door flew open and Ulysses stalked back in. He grabbed my hair, yanking me up and squeezed my jaw. "Where the fück is Veronica?"

I shrugged. "The last time I had the displeasure of seeing her, she was trying to seduce my man. I was planning on going back to fight her, but your psycho ass kidnapped me thinking I was her."

"Fück!" He punched the wall next to me, repeatedly until his knuckles were bleeding. "Fück! Fück! Fück!"

I didn't move, I just stared at him as he cursed loudly.

He breathed in raggedly, angrily. "Well, sorry to say this, but you'll be having to take her place. I already made the arrangements."

"Told you they played you like an idiot."

That was not the right thing to say.

Ulysses growled, squeezing my neck enough to have me clawing at his hands. "Just because you're the wrong sister doesn't mean that you can't be disciplined."

He threw me across the room, making me fall into the couch and I huffed, widening my eyes when he pulled me back by my hair and began to hit me.

His knuckles were hard and they came with such speed that I stopped counting after the twentieth hit.

"Scream for me!" He roared, slapping me until my brain felt like it was turning into mush.

"Why aren't you fighting?" He grabbed my head and slammed it down on the floor, making pain shoot all through my body, but I didn't let out any noise. "I like it when they fight me!" He leaned down, licking the side of my cheek. "Your tears are like an aphrodisiac."

I burst out laughing, wincing at the pain coursing through my stomach, but I couldn't help it. He was one sick man. "You're crazy."

He punched his fist into my mouth and quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in pain from my teeth grazing against his skin.

My mouth tasted like iron. I had bitten my tongue twice in an attempt to keep my screams in and my cheek was going to have ulcers to last me a lifetime.

I giggled, turning on my side and spat the blood out. It covered my teeth and it didn't seem to want to stop any time soon. "My mom hits harder than you."

Ulysses stood up and began to kick his boot into my body. I huffed out a breath, almost passing out from the pain, but he went into a furious rage and wouldn't stop hurting me.

My body seemed to slowly shut down. The pain was numbed out by then and I was sure that he would beat me to death, but in a sick way, I was happy because I didn't give him the pleasure he wanted.

At least my mother prepared me for something in my life.

"You should team up with her," I laughed when he fell back on the couch, too tired to keep hitting me, "she could teach you a few things on how to torture someone."

He stood up, ready to hit me again, but a buzzing noise echoed through the room, stopping him.

"Ulysses," The voice belonged to a woman and she seemed to be speaking through an intercom, "that's enough. She'll be too bruised up to sell."

He swore, running his fingers through his hair and paced around the room for a couple of seconds.

"You better have a high bid, you little bïtch. Otherwise, I'm going to drag you back into this room and fück you to death."

"Veronica would've sold for a little more," I grinned. My eyes were too swollen to see him clearly, but I could still make out his silhouette.

He knelt beside me, squeezing my jaw again. "Just wait you little bïtch. Let's see if you keep up your tough girl act when I'm destroying your püssy."

"For that you'd need a dïck," I slurred, laughter bubbling past my lips like a demented patient.

He growled, raising his hand to hit me again, but the intercom went off. "Ulysses!" He glared at me, walking out of the room and slammed the door behind.

I wasn't sure how long I laid there. I just knew I couldn't move. When the door opened again, it was the same man that had dropped me in the room.

This time, though, he was gentler in his brusque ways. He lifted me from the ground and carried me in his arms. When we reached the cell, he laid me down gently and then walked away.

A couple of minutes later, he returned with a bucket of water and a rag. He left the bucket outside of the bars, but made sure to keep it close enough for me to reach.

"Clean her up."

As he began walking away, my cellmate stood up from the corner and graciously knelt. "I have never seen a girl return like this!"

I grinned, or I assumed that the twitching of my lips was a grin. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

She reached into the bucket and gently began to clean the blood off my face. "What did you do?"

I hissed in a breath, wincing in pain when she rubbed the damp rag on my bottom lip. "I didn't play along with his game."

I couldn't really see her face; my eyes were shut in an attempt to focus in something other than the excruciating pain I was in. I wouldn't be surprised if Ulysses would break one of my bones.

However, she let out a quiet sigh. The sigh a mother gives when her child does something they are not supposed to do and end up getting hurt.

"What's your name?" Her fingers were gentle against my skin, her hands barely touched my body, but she felt comfortably warm, familiar.

"Daniela," I muttered, growing extremely tired, "but you can call me Dani."

"Dani," she murmured, "if you want to survive this nightmare, you must play along with him. Forget your pride, this is about survival."

I ignored her because it wasn't entirely about pride. It was about protecting the intangible side of me. "What's your name?"

"Alexia," Her voice was almost melodious, soft and it carried through gently. It was making my eyelids heavy and for some reason, it was easier to focus on that, than on the pain. "Rest up, Dani."

Darkness quickly embraced me.

~*~

We won't be in these scenes for too long! Dani is going to save herself (:

What type of book would you like me to write when I finish AP? (Aside from every other unfinished book in my works, haha) I mean, like what genre would you like to read by me eventually?

xo, Luna