96 Hours
827 Words
Day four without the monster came quietly.
Sloan traced shapes on the concrete floor, listening to August hum the same song he’d been humming to himself off and on for the last four days. She’d been trying to place the song in her head, but it was unfamiliar to her. She’d come to find comfort in his constant humming, the deep baritone of his voice soothing the hopelessness and fear that seemed forever present inside of her.
They’d become more comfortable with one another. What choice did they have? They couldn’t even use the bathroom privately. August was a gentleman, always turning away and humming slightly louder when she needed to go. Sloan had never felt so degraded in her life. It was easier when it was just her; sharing this miserable space with someone else was humiliating.
She was hungry— and thirsty. The jug of water hadn’t lasted long enough between the two of them, even with August giving her most of his share.
She looked up at him. “What song is that?”
A sound clanked from the top of the stairs, and August’s humming stopped abruptly.
A chill ran up Sloan’s spine as she listened to the monster jingle the locks, her hair standing on end. She quickly sat back against the wall, tucking her knees to her chest defensively and trying to make herself look small.
August stood, turning to angle his body slightly in front of Sloan.
Sloan put her hands over her ears, staring at the top of the staircase, talking to herself quietly to calm her nerves as she often did.
“One, two, buckle my shoe,” she murmured in a small voice.
August glanced back at her, his eyes soft.
The monster was coming down the stairs now, his eyes excited.
“Three, four, shut the door,” she continued.
“Miss me?” The monster chuckled. His white shirt was stained and gross where it laid over his giant belly. His greasy hair was combed back on his head as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on the gun on his hip.
He plopped down the metal folding chair he was carrying, legs spread wide as he pulled the gun from his hip. His eyes leered at Sloan, his eyes traveling across her exposed legs.
“Come here, girl,” he spat.
Sloan got up to approach him, knowing better than to disobey, but August stopped her, his warm and calloused hand gently encircling her wrist. “She’s not getting any closer to you, you sick fuck.”
“You get over here right f*****g now,” he growled. “Or I’ll put a bullet between his eyes.”
Fear grabbed Sloan’s belly as he angled the gun toward August’s face. She jerked her hand away from him, her weak legs carrying her towards the monster. She wouldn’t let him hurt August. She wouldn’t.
“Sloan,” August snarled. “Don’t you dare—“
“I won’t let him hurt you,” she said timidly, approaching the monster.
He smirked at August, and as she approached, he grabbed her arm, yanking her closer. Her span her around, her back facing his front, and she felt the cool metal of the gun pressing against her side.
August froze, eyes landing on the weapon.
The monster rested his other hand on her thigh, just where her dress ended. Bile rose up in her throat, and her knees shook as she pleaded with August with her eyes to not do anything stupid.
The monster’s eyes were unhinged as he stared at August. “Did you f**k her?”
Rage filled August’s face. “Are you f*****g kidding me? You’re f*****g sick.”
He pressed the gun harder into Sloan’s side, and she let out a little yelp. August’s jaw clenched.
“Let’s check, shall we?” The monster purred, and Sloan squeezed her eyes shut as the monster’s hand creeped up under her dress.
“I’m going to f*****g kill you,” August raged. “Don’t you f*****g dare touch her. I’ll gut you—“
She placed her hands over her ears as she felt his fingers touch her most sensitive place, probing her.
“Five, six, pick up sticks,” she murmured, her voice quivering.
His finger brushed against her opening, and she resisted the urge to vomit on the floor.
The monster groaned. “Still pure. So f*****g hot.”
Suddenly, the monster shoved her forward towards August, and her knees almost slammed into the concrete floor, but he caught her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back behind him. The comforting smell of him enveloped her, and she let out a breathless sob.
“What the f**k do you want?” August demanded, his arms curled protectively around her.
“Right now,” the monster leered. “I want you to f**k her.”
- Writer
