The air was thick with the metallic smell of blood. Chains rattling against the cold floor as the metal bit into her wrists. Pain was nothing new to her-she had been living in this hell for more than a year.

Heavy footsteps, slow and steady approach.

His fingers suddenly gripped her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze, the man who ripped her apart piece by piece until she started hating herself.

"You thought you could run from here?" He murmured, tilting his head. "That you can escape after what happened to my family?"

Her lips parted, but fear stole the words before they could escape.

His grip tightened, nails digging into her skin as he bent, catching a stray tear. "Not so brave now, are you?" He says, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction.

His hand moved down, racing along her jaw before slipping lower, feeling her pulse as she swallowed hard.

"You can never leave this house." His hands moved down, tracing the outline of her swollen breasts through her torn dress, reminding her of the control he has over her.

Her heart pounded against her chest, the room felt smaller with each passing second as she curled her body.

He leaned in, his lips extremely close to hers but not making quite contact as she closed her eyes. "You still think you can fight me?" His voice is taunting.

His fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her roughly toward him. The sudden force made her gasp, her chest pressed against his, the heat of his body radiating through her. His presence was suffocating her. A sudden jolt of desire sparked inside her-a sick, twisted thing that she refused to acknowledge, but it was there, lurking beneath the surface. The more he touched her, the more her resistance crumbled.

Every inch of her body was asking her to run, get away from him, as far as possible, but there was nowhere to go, no place to escape. She felt the chill of the room, the coldness of the chains cutting into her wrists, but the heat of his touch was inescapable. She hated his touch. She hated herself for being his plaything.

His lips finally pressed against hers, hard and demanding, leaving her breathless. She never kissed him back, but he never stopped. Making her stand, he pinned her hands over her head, holding the chains. His tongue brushes against her lips, asking for entrance, but then he snaps. He brings his free hand, squeezing her breast, making her yelp in pain. Taking advantage, he slips his tongue inside her mouth, tasting every corner of her mouth.

He pulls back abruptly, catching his breath as she slides down, sitting against the wall. He had already stripped away her autonomy, her dignity, and her will to fight. And she was powerless to stop him. Nobody came to save her.

She had lost the count of the days, the nights, the hours she had spent in his so-called home which was her prison.

"You always look at me like that." He scoffed. "Like you still have something left to fight for."

"You'll break eventually like everyone else, they all do." He smirked, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face.

Her stomach twisted- she had seen it before. His gaze hadn't changed.

She forced the memory away, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. She couldn't afford to be weak. Not now. His fingers lingered against her skin, a mocking caress that sent a shiver down her spine. The chains rattled as she instinctively pulled away, but his grip only tightened, forcing her to stay still.

"Stop acting like you hate my touch, when your body reacts so beautifully to me." he murmured.

Her heart pounded against her chest. Instead of looking at him she focused on the floor, on anything that would keep her grounded. If she met his gaze, she knew she would see the same sadistic pleasure she had seen countless times before-the same satisfaction that made her stomach churn with revulsion.

"You think ignoring me will change anything? You'll still be mine just like those old days." His voice was deceptively soft, a cruel contrast to the bruising grip he had on her.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fought the burning in her eyes. His fingers lingered for a moment before loosening their grip.

With slow, deliberate steps, he walked to the door. He didn't look back as he unlocked it, the heavy creak echoing through the space. "Rest while you can," he murmured, his voice almost mocking. "You'll need it."

Slamming the door shut behind him, he left her in darkness. The silence was less suffocating as she allowed herself to breathe.

She pressed her forehead against the cold wall, eyes shutting tightly as an old memory threatened to surface-the sound of laughter, a warm hand ruffling her hair, the ghost of a voice she had once trusted. For a fleeting second, she could almost believe he was still out there, unknown of what was happening to her.

And then there was him. Rudraksh. His name was a whisper in the back of her mind, an ache she couldn't place, a tether she didn't dare hold onto. He had been a stranger once, but now... now she didn't know what he was. A part of her wanted to believe he wasn't like the others. That if he ever found out where she was-what had been done to her-he would...

She bit down hard on her lip, forcing the thought away.

The air was thick with the metallic smell of blood. Chains rattling against the cold floor as the metal bit into her wrists. Pain was nothing new to her-she had been living in this hell for more than a year.

Heavy footsteps, slow and steady approach.

His fingers suddenly gripped her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze, the man who ripped her apart piece by piece until she started hating herself.

"You thought you could run from here?" He murmured, tilting his head. "That you can escape after what happened to my family?"

She didn't answer. She knew better.

His grip tightened, nails digging into her skin as he bent, catching a stray tear. "Not so brave now, are you?" He says, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction.

His hand moved down, racing along her jaw before slipping lower, feeling her pulse as she swallowed hard.

"You can never leave this house." His hands moved down, tracing the outline of her swollen breasts through her torn dress, reminding her of the control he has over her.

Her heart pounded against her chest, the room felt smaller with each passing second as she curled her body.

He leaned in, his lips extremely close to hers but not making quite contact as she closed her eyes. "You still think you can fight me?" His voice is taunting.

His fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her roughly toward him. The sudden force made her gasp, her chest pressed against his, the heat of his body radiating through her. His presence was suffocating her. A sudden jolt of desire sparked inside her-a sick, twisted thing that she refused to acknowledge, but it was there, lurking beneath the surface. The more he touched her, the more her resistance crumbled.

Every inch of her body was asking her to run, get away from him, as far as possible, but there was nowhere to go, no place to escape. She felt the chill of the room, the coldness of the chains cutting into her wrists, but the heat of his touch was inescapable. She hated his touch. She hated herself for being his plaything.

His lips finally pressed against hers, hard and demanding, leaving her breathless. She never kissed him back, but he never stopped. Making her stand, he pinned her hands over her head, holding the chains. His tongue brushes against her lips, asking for entrance, but then he snaps. He brings his free hand, squeezing her breast, making her yelp in pain. Taking advantage, he slips his tongue inside her mouth, tasting every corner of her mouth.

He pulls back abruptly, catching his breath as she slides down, sitting against the wall. He had already stripped away her autonomy, her dignity, and her will to fight. And she was powerless to stop him. Nobody came to save her.

She had lost the count of the days, the nights, the hours she had spent in his so-called home which was her prison.

"You always look at me like that." He scoffed. "Like you still have something left to fight for."

"You'll break eventually like everyone else, they all do." He smirked, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face.

Her stomach twisted- she had seen it before. His gaze hadn't changed.

She forced the memory away, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. She couldn't afford to be weak. Not now. His fingers lingered against her skin, a mocking caress that sent a shiver down her spine. The chains rattled as she instinctively pulled away, but his grip only tightened, forcing her to stay still.

"Stop acting like you hate my touch, when your body reacts so beautifully to me." he murmured.

Her heart pounded against her chest. Instead of looking at him she focused on the floor, on anything that would keep her grounded. If she met his gaze, she knew she would see the same sadistic pleasure she had seen countless times before-the same satisfaction that made her stomach churn with revulsion.

"You think ignoring me will change anything? You'll still be mine just like those old days." His voice was deceptively soft, a cruel contrast to the bruising grip he had on her.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fought the burning in her eyes. His fingers lingered for a moment before loosening their grip.

With slow, deliberate steps, he walked to the door. He didn't look back as he unlocked it, the heavy creak echoing through the space. "Rest while you can," he murmured, his voice almost mocking. "You'll need it."

Slamming the door shut behind him, he left her in darkness. The silence was less suffocating as she allowed herself to breathe.

She pressed her forehead against the cold wall, eyes shutting tightly as an old memory threatened to surface-the sound of laughter, a warm hand ruffling her hair, the ghost of a voice she had once trusted. For a fleeting second, she could almost believe he was still out there, unknown of what was happening to her.

And then there was him. Rudraksh. His name was a whisper in the back of her mind, an ache she couldn't place, a tether she didn't dare hold onto. He had been a stranger once, but now... now she didn't know what he was. A part of her wanted to believe he wasn't like the others. That if he ever found out where she was-what had been done to her-he would...

She bit down hard on her lip, forcing the thought away.

Hope was dangerous. It was a luxury she couldn't afford.