೦ Anna ೦

I have no idea how much time has passed, when I was torn from my exhausted slumber by the noise of metal scratching against metal. It takes me a moment to realize that I’m in fact hanging from the ceiling by my hands. As soon as reality strikes my mind, my body follows, waking up to painful muscle cramps and ache in my joints.

How am I supposed to endure this position every day and night? But right now, this isn’t important, because I can hear the door open and that means Sam is about to enter the room.

“Sam, I’m sorry,” my mouth acts on its own before I can stop myself, pressing my lips shut, flinching, and shaking my head.

Stupid, stupid.

Why can’t I just shut my mouth and stick to the rules he gave me?

How am I supposed to regain his trust and make him believe that I’m being honest?

Not by calling him the name he doesn’t want to hear or speak when he doesn’t want me to speak.

I take a deep breath, grit my teeth as I pull myself onto my feet to bring relief to my wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

At least as much as this uncomfortable position allows me to.

Sam doesn’t react and I haven’t heard if he entered the room, or not. So, I stay still and harken, trying to find out where he is.

That’s when something warm and slimy splashes against my back, sticking to my skin and underwear. My stomach instantly revolts as the stench of blood, shit and urine jumped right into my nose. Bile shoots up my throat and I retch, exactly when another load collides with my chest and legs, and it spatters, flying into my face and mouth.

Immediately I throw up, I can’t even try to stop my body from spitting out whatever it is Sam is throwing at me, along with the acid from my stomach, which burns at the back of my throat.

I’m covered all over with this undistinguishable, disgusting, slightly warm, sticky, and slippery slurry, which is running down my body, and dripping down from me with blobbing sounds.

But the stench is so much worse, it burns my eyes and makes them water.

Not even a sewer can smell this vile and revolting! The moment something long and slippery slithers down my shoulder, I’m sure it’s got to be bowels, like small intestines. I throw up bile again.

“This is what you are, Anna,” Sam says, while I puke my heart out; his voice sounds eerily indifferent. “Nothing but filth, less than vermin. I should lock you away, throw away the keys, and forget about you. And maybe, I will. You are not even able to obey simple orders. Orders, which had been very clear.”

My body starts shaking from disgust and nausea, as this filth on me starts to cool and dry on my skin. I can literally feel how it puckers up, almost as it’s sucked into my body. I’m freezing from more than just the cool air around me. As much as I try I just can’t stop retching. The mere thought of all of what might be clinging to my body makes me cry out in hysteria. The stench: unbearable. The shock choking my body is even worse: I suddenly have to pee.

I started to whimper, as I fight the unbearable need to relief myself. I hold my breath. I cry instead, but when I sob, it shakes my body reminding it that it has to let go. I open my mouth in despair as I suck in the air, but the cloud emanating from what’s covering me seems to crawl into my mouth. I squirmed, pressing my legs together despite the disgusting, gross gunk between them.

“What is wrong, Anna?” Samael asks me, as if I wasn’t showered with the deteriorating remains of animals and what people left at the rest room, cheeks blushed in embarrassment, because of the stench they clouded the entire place in.

I want to call for my granny, for my pops, for Sam. And yet Sam’s right in front of me. The distorted Hell-infused Samael, which I created. As another sob shakes my body, I realize that he has addressed me and I must answer.

“I…” I stammer.

“What is wrong?” he repeats himself, impatiently.

“I have to pee,” I admit and shame burns my face, my shit and bowel spattered face.

“Then pee,” Samael answers, nonchalantly. “It is not like you can get any dirtier, can you not?”

I press my mouth shut, tasting something foreign on my lips and retch again, instantly.

I shake my head, pushing my tongue out, trying to spit out whatever I got on it.

“Pee.” Samael orders, coldly.

I stop moving altogether, and clench my hands into fists. I can’t possibly do that.

“Pee!” he barked at me, making me flinch.

It’s either the shock, fright, obedience, or simply the movement of me flinching, but I can’t stop my body, once it starts releasing.

I start to cry.

I don’t even think of trying to stop my tears, at first just a warm trickle and then a stream of urine runs down my legs to my feet, mixing itself with the filth that is covering me.

I’m beyond ashamed, beyond embarrassed, I am mortified. I lose all strength in my body, and fail to keep holding myself on my feet. I slip, instinctively shuffling my feet, but all that happens it that I get this disgusting slurry between my toes.

I sob even more.

“Like I said,” Samael comments, dismissively. “Filth.”

While I’m still peeing myself, I could hear how he lifts something tinny from the ground and moves. I’m horrified to realize that he closes and locks the door behind him again.

He’s leaving me like this. He’s locking me in like this. I instantly remember him saying that he should throw away the keys. Horror stops my tears and my body is paralyzed and limp.

This time, I don’t shout his name, don’t plead with him. Partly, because my vocal chords are petrified. I just hang there, trying not to move, so that I stop feeling the goo, and slowly get used to the stench that is me.

Filth.

That’s all I am to him.

My Sam.

Is there even something left of him in Samael?