Broken Bonds

Bram

Only in the darkest recesses of one’s mind will they ever find true freedom. To push the limits of what they’re capable of—to have their character revealed when there are no restraints to restrict the desires within —that is what defines who they are. But where there is a perpetrator, there is a victim. The actions and trials of both are not without consequence. For to know fear in its purest form was to live, and life was the greatest gift we were bestowed.

It took falling in love with a slave for me to open my eyes to what I’d been blinded to for so long. Power, money, and status in society … I’d been born with the world served to me on a silver platter. I had also been born to carry the vilest secret that existed amongst the wealthy and sadistic —Whitlock.

The subterranean fortress was like stepping into heaven and hell. For those looking for pleasure evoked from pain and death, the place was what dreams were made of. But dreams weren’t one-sided. For the slaves who were trapped inside, it was a nightmare so horrendous that most found ways to kill themselves to escape the torment within.

Slave Vicolette had attempted taking her own life once. The unsuccessful endeavor had fate casting her into my arms. I was a young man then, barely twenty-three at the time, and she was only fourteen. Even then, her beauty had woven a web around me. I watched her grow, and with her age, came such a deep rooted obsession that no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t deny my feelings. I loved her.

Emotions came in many forms, and love appeared in mass shades. Mine was as dark as it came, and the fixation just happened to develop where it didn’t belong. Slave Vicolette could never be mine, even if she were free of her master. My position allowed it, but I refused, and it wasn’t for her. It was for me.

Whitlock was mine now, passed on to me after my father’s death. To be attached any more than I already was would be was condemning myself to a truth I also couldn’t deny. I was my father’s son. I harbored evil, just as every man who walked through our doors.

Love may have taken residence in my heart, but love killed. And here, she was safer with the monsters, than she was with the devil that tracked her every move. At least, for now. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold off.

I was always watching—waiting—murdering for who I knew I’d never escape—slave 24690.

24690:

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. P-please!”

Fingers crushed onto my bloody bicep, slipping down to my elbow as the guard jerked against my fighting frame. My sobs made the words pouring from my mouth barely recognizable, but I continued to plead my innocence as more uniformed men stepped through the door of my small, luxury apartment inside Whitlock.

“Please, listen to me. I didn’t do this! I swear if you only—”

“You expect us to believe anything you say? You’re covered in your master’s blood and your eye is nearly swollen shut. I’d say you took matters into your own hands this time.”

Another guard stepped forward, reaching out toward me. I flung my free arm away, trying to use my weight to break the other’s hold. The angle put me facing my master’s dead body and I cried harder, reaching out toward him with everything I had. The slip of the guard’s grip left me surging right for the older man who had owned me since I was ten years of age. It should have given me comfort knowing he’d never be back to beat me again, but it didn’t. With his death might have well of come my own.

My knees hit the wood, hard, and I slid sideways through the massive amount of blood pooled and sprayed along the floor. Jagged wounds were shredded along his chest from the knife still sticking out of his left eye. The same eye that he hit me in. I cringed through the sight but didn’t hesitate to crawl back up to him. This felt like a dream. Was I still sleeping? I had to be because although my Master was mean to me on occasion, everyone loved him. Even I had grown to have feelings for him over the years. He didn’t always lash out. Where he had rage, he had tenderness. He loved me. He was all I had.

“Grab her! What the hell are you waiting for?” Torrance, the lead guard known as the high leader, stopped by the entrance, whispering something to three men beside him. I watched as all but two left: a dark skinned older guard and a younger one with blond hair. The moment the door shut, my pulse exploded. Torrance had short, dark hair, and his sharp features were handsome, but the look he held in his dark eyes was one I knew all too well. One I’d spent years hiding from within the halls of Whitlock. No one was to be trusted. Not the masters who lurked in the shadows, and sure as hell not the guards who were meant to enforce the laws within this fortress.

“No …”

Slowly, I crawled over my master’s body, trying to move away as they came closer. With how small the quarters were, there was nowhere left to go. If they got their hands on me, it was all over with. I wasn’t owned anymore. I was fair game. Their toy to do whatever they pleased. They’d beat me worse than I already was, and then they’d rape me. Something I hadn’t had to undergo for quite some time. I couldn’t bear experiencing that pain again. I couldn’t.

“We’ll shower her first.”

One order—a million evil thoughts reflected in their eyes.

I reached for the large black handle of the knife, feeling the contents of my master’s brain hold to the blade as I ripped it free. Pleasure had Torrance’s mouth pulled back into a slight smile. He didn’t say a word as he broke from the other two and his built frame began to circle around me.

“Stay away. Don’t come any closer.”

“Don’t be stupid, slave. You know better than this. Put down the knife and follow us into the restroom and you won’t get hurt.”

“You lie.” My voice cracked while I moved to counter the actions of the leader. The other two were inching closer by the second and panic had me slicing the blade down, toward them. “I said stay away!”