Chapter 133
The darkness in the basement was so absolute that it felt like it swallowed me whole. I couldn’t see anything anymore—not the faint cracks in the old concrete walls or the rusty pipes that lined the ceiling. All I had left was the sound of my own shallow breaths and the aching in my throat. I’d lost track of time. Hours? Days? I didn’t know anymore.
My lips were dry, so cracked they stung with every inhale. The weight of the chains around my wrists and ankles seemed heavier now, pressing me into the cold stone floor. I tried not to think about water. Or food. Or escape.
But gods, the thirst.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I let my head fall back against the wall. The small gesture made me dizzy. How long had I been down here? How long before my body gave up and I joined my father? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—maybe it would finally stop hurting.
I closed my eyes, wishing for just a second of peace, but the sound of footsteps pulled me from my haze. Slow, deliberate steps echoing down the basement stairs. I stiffened, my heartbeat thudding weakly in my chest as fear tightened around me like a noose.
No, not again.
The door creaked open, the rusty hinges groaning in protest, and the soft glow of a flashlight hit me, making me flinch.
“Well, well,” a sickeningly familiar voice said, his tone dripping with amusement. “You’re still alive.”
Steve.
His silhouette filled the doorway, tall and lean, a beer bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I didn’t need to. I knew that smirk, the way his eyes always seemed to gleam with cruelty when he looked at me.
He descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate as if he were savoring the moment. I tried to look away, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. I was chained to this place—this nightmare.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and crouched in front of me, tilting his head to the side. I could see the outline of his smirk even in the darkness.
“You look awful, Ayla,” he said, taking a long swig from the beer bottle. I watched the liquid disappear into his throat, my own body screaming for something—anything—to quench my thirst. “Honestly, I thought you’d give up by now. You’ve always been so weak. Pathetic, really.”
I wanted to say something back—anything—but my throat felt like sandpaper. Nothing came out except a faint rasp.
Steve noticed and chuckled. He set the empty beer bottle aside and reached into his pocket. A moment later, I heard the crinkle of plastic, and he pulled out a cold bottle of water. The sound of the liquid sloshing inside made me nearly collapse with need.
“Ah, I bet you’d kill for this, wouldn’t you?” he taunted, shaking the bottle in front of me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. My whole body screamed at me to lunge for it, but the chains held me fast. “Say the word, Ayla. Just one little word.”
I looked up at him, my vision blurry, my head spinning. “W-what…?” I managed to croak out.
His smirk widened, and he unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, letting me hear the crisp crack of the seal. He took a slow sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow.
“Just give in, little sister,” he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Say you’ll do what I want. Be a good little girl, and this water—” He held it up, almost mockingly. “—is all yours.”
I couldn’t look away. I wanted to give in. My entire body screamed at me to say yes, to do whatever he wanted just to make the pain stop, just to feel water on my lips. But deep down, I knew what he meant. I’d have to give myself to him. The thought turned my stomach, even in my broken state.
I turned my head away, tears stinging my dry eyes. “N-never,” I rasped.
Steve’s smirk dropped, his expression twisting into something ugly. “What did you say?”
I didn’t have the strength to repeat myself. He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. His fingers dug into my skin like claws.
“You’re really going to be this difficult?” he sneered. “Look at you. You’re nothing, Ayla. You think anyone out there cares about you? You think anyone’s coming to save you? You’re worthless. A rat that no one will miss when you’re gone.”
My lip trembled, but I didn’t look away. His words hurt more than I wanted to admit because deep down, I feared they were true. Who would come for me? Who cared enough to try?
He let go of my face and laughed bitterly. “Suit yourself,” he said, standing to his full height. He tipped the water bottle upside down, letting the precious liquid pour onto the ground at my feet. I watched it trickle over the dirty concrete, my vision blurring as tears spilled silently down my cheeks.
“No!” I whispered, my voice cracking.
Steve stepped back, smirking. “Goodbye, Ayla. Fun part is… you won’t be missed.”
He turned and started up the stairs, his footsteps heavy and cruel.
The door creaked shut, and I was left alone again. I sagged against the wall, sobbing silently as the last of my strength ebbed away. I stared at the dark spot on the ground where the water had been, my tears mixing with the filth beneath me.
Why wouldn’t they just let me die already?
Time passed in a blur after that. Minutes. Hours. It didn’t matter anymore. I was so tired. My body felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore, as though I were floating somewhere between here and nothingness.
Then, the door creaked open again, and I barely flinched this time. I couldn’t even lift my head to look. I heard footsteps descending the stairs, lighter this time, followed by a cruel, familiar laugh.
“Oh, you’re still alive,” my stepmother’s voice said, filled with disdain. “Good riddance, I say.”
I managed to lift my head slightly, blinking through the haze. She stood at the base of the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest, her lips curled into a scornful smile.
“What a waste,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You couldn’t even do one thing right. You had a chance—a chance to be something, to get out of our lives for good. But no, you had to ruin everything, didn’t you?”
I swallowed hard, though it felt like swallowing broken glass. “W-why…?”
Her laugh was sharp and cold. “Why? Because you’re useless, Ayla. You’ve always been useless. Just like your father.” She spat the words like venom. “Do you know how tired I am of looking at you? At the burden you are? Gods, you’re pathetic.”
I bit my lip, trying not to cry, but the tears came anyway.
She stepped closer, crouching slightly to look me in the eye. “You’ll rot down here, Ayla. No one will come for you. No one will miss you. And maybe then, I’ll finally be free of you.”
She straightened up and turned to leave. Her laughter echoed up the stairs as the door slammed shut, plunging me into silence once again.
I curled up against the wall, my body trembling violently. My stepmother’s words swirled in my mind, mixing with Steve’s cruel laughter, with the sound of the water spilling onto the floor. Maybe they were right. Maybe no one would miss me. Maybe I was better off gone.
But then, faint and distant, I thought I heard my father’s voice. The voice I’d nearly forgotten. Ayla, you are stronger than this.
I closed my eyes tightly, tears streaking down my face.
No.I wouldn’t let them win. I wouldn’t let them break me. My father wouldn’t want me to give up. The twins… the twins needed me. Somewhere deep down, I clung to that thought like a lifeline.
This wasn’t the end.
It couldn’t be.
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