ELEVEN - SOPHIA
I can barely move. He looks at me with the knife in his hand, my legs whipping shut after he so brutally shoved them apart.
I was dragged in here by Charles and bound in place, the entire time him praising me like I was a child. "That's a good girl."
"Just lay still for a moment."
"Well done."
As if I was going to struggle while he was holding a knife so tightly against my neck, a drop of blood had already formed.
I could hear Rock in the next room, the blows as he struck the other man again and again. Was he killing him? I wouldn't put it past him.
Charles looked down at my bound form and smiled. "Pretty as a picture. You enjoy yourself won't you?"
I fight to free myself but get nowhere. Rock reappears in the cell a minute later, looking like he'd fallen down a cliffside. Blood is running down his face and his hands are swollen and marked.
I am not ready for this, for him. I am still trying to break free when he picks up the knife. Is he going to kill me?
I scream so loudly, my throat hurts but the sound is muffled by the gag. He looks at me, knife in his hand, as if he's fighting himself. I truly believe he might kill me in this moment.
But then he seems to realise it's me. A look of recognition plays across his eyes. He glances down at my legs again and I wait, expecting him to force them apart again.
He does so but this time he's gentler, manoeuvring them while I crane my neck to look at him.
Sweat drips onto me as he runs his hand up my ankle but my eyes are fixed on the knife on his other hand. Is he going to kill me?
His hand moves higher and my body reacts despite my fear. It responds to the movement of his finger, not used to so much softness from a man as rough as him.
He stops at my thigh, shaking his head before twisting back to my ankle.
The knife moves down and I'm ready to scream again but it is not my skin it cuts, it is the bond holding my ankle in place.
He saws through the rope and then moves to do the same to my other leg.
As the rope falls away, I scramble up the bed away from him. He sits looking at me.
"I will not hurt you," he says, moving to my wrist. He slices through the ropes one after another until I'm free. I go to leap off the bed but my muscles won't work and I stumble to the floor. I look up at him and he's standing there, his hand outstretched towards me.
I bat it away and he winces. I feel awful as I realise at once how much pain he must be in. I am sure there is a grating sound as something broken in his fingers grinds together.
The door in the far wall opens a second later and Charles storms in. "You are a useless fool!" he screams at Rock. "I bring her here for your use, I do as you ask and bring the one you want and what do you do? Nothing!"
He opens the hatch and points at me. "You, out."
Rock steps in front of me, a single solid step that makes the bed rattle. "No," he says.
I stand behind him, peering over his shoulder.
"What did you say?"
Rock says nothing.
"Get out of the way. Into the corner."
"No."
"Do it or she dies."
I see Rock's muscles tense up. He does not move.
Charles ducks down, crawling through the hatch before standing up again. "If you will not play with your toys, I will take them away. Did you learn nothing from the last one?"
"You will not hurt her."
"I will not ask you to move. I will not bargain with you. You will move out of my way or you will regret it."
Rock's hands curls into fists by his sides. Charles looks furious but he swallows his anger, spinning and crawling back out. The hatch slams shut as Charles crosses to the door. With a last look over his shoulder, he leaves. We are alone.
Rock turns to look at me. "He will not hurt you."
"It's not me I'm worried about," I reply, looking at the blood still running down his face. "We need to do something about that or it'll get infected."
I grab the hem of my nightgown and tear a portion from it. I press it to his forehead. "Hold this," I say. "It might stop the bleeding."
His hand closes over mine and for a second I remain in place before sliding my hand free. I step back but before I can say anything, the door opens once more and Charles walks in dragging a mannequin with him.
I gasp as I realise it's not a mannequin. Her skin is so pale, she looks white, blotches and yellow bruises on her arms and legs. She wears only a stinking white tee-shirt, more rags than clothing. Her hair is matted and lank, draped down her back. Worst of all is her face, she has her eyes open but there is no life in them. Charles lets her go and she drops heavily to the floor.
I wince at the smacking sound. She does not move and I realise her muscles have wasted away, she cannot raise herself.
Rock has crossed to the bars in the time it takes me to work out she is alive. He is trying to bend the bars to get out. They creak and groan but do not give.
"I warned you," Charles said, holding a knife over the woman who is oblivious to all. "This brings me no pleasure," he adds, moving the knife down towards the woman's neck.
Rocks presses his face to the bars, his voice low and filled with menace. "If you hurt mother, I will kill you."
Charles laughs. "And how will you do that while you're in there?"
The knife goes lower and I scream. "Wait!"
They both turn to look at me, my hands outstretched. I almost lose my nerve but one look at the pale form on the floor is enough to get me through the next sentence. "I will do it," I say.
"What?" Charles asks. "You will do what?"
I turn to Rock, taking his hand and pressing it to my chest. "It's all right," I say, forcing his fingers to knead my breast. "I know you want to."