3: Dark Murmurs

VALENTINA'S POV

He pushed me against the bed.

"Mark, do not to this." I warned while he went ahead to take off his clothes.

"How long I'm I supposed to wait?" 

"You know I'm not ready yet." I said while he removed his belt.

"Then when will you ever be?" He questioned frustrated. "I really wish you could be more like her."

"Like who?" I questioned with furrowed brows .

"Kaitlyn!" He yelled.

This wasn't the first time he'd mention that to me though.

"If you loved her that much, you should have never left her." I said and his face twisted to something terrifying.

"What did you just say?" He questioned.

I was sick and tired of him thinking he could boss me about.

"I have somewhere to be Mark. I really don't have time for this." I said, about to leave when he thrust me back unto the bed.

"You're going to your stripper's lodge again aren't you. To sleep with men again isn't it?"

"I told you I'm sleeping with nobody. It's to make money. And you know it's the money I get out of it that I use to sustain the both of us." I said, wearing my lace.

"You whore." He murmured causing me to pause what I was doing and raise my gaze.

"What did you just call me?" I cocked a brow.

"You fucking whore." 

I couldn't believe the gut of this guy. "So now I'm the whore. When you had absolutely nothing to give to our relationship who stepped up to do that? Me! I got you everything people give you credit for even to the position you have right now and all you can call me, is a whore? You spend my money, I let you keep yours all the time so you can enjoy it. And what do you give me in return?!" I yelped when I felt his hand connect with my face. My eyes widened in shock.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me." He said and I'd never felt this disappointed in my life. "My mother warned me about you, but I refused to listen. Asides from money what else do you bring to the table?! Nothing. Don't blame me for your demise bitch. You're in relationship, so those are your responsibilities." He said before smacking the belt in his hand down and leaving the room.

The cheeked he slapped me stung and I nearly broke down in tears. 

After a few minutes I packed what I needed to pack. When I was ready to leave I opened the door...or tried to because the door was locked. It wasn't when Mark was here...

"Mark! Mark open the door!" I yelled on top of my lungs. "Mark why the hell are you doing?!"

My fist pounded against the door. Fear, cold and sharp twisted in my guts. This wasn't even a fight anymore. This was different.

"Mark! This isn't funny at all!" I yelled, my voice hoarse. 

Silence.

Did he move the refrigerator? I was hearing a steady him in the distance.

Fuck fuck fuck. I was going to be late. I was going to get fired. How was I going to explain this to them?

I scanned the room for anything useful. My phone was on the nightstand, charging. Thank goodness. I reached for it and a sickening realization hit me.

My phone wasn't there.

Not on the nightstand or on the floor, not even in my purse by the door.

He took it.

My fist instinctively clenched while I gritted my teeth.

"Mark if you don't fucking open this door! I swear to god I'll..." My threat died in my throat as a sound as a sound reached me, faint but unmistakable.

A muffed "thump-thump-thump", steady and rhythmic. Not from inside the apartment, more like from somewhere...below.

My blood ran cold because the first thing that I could think about was. What the hell was that sound?

I strained my ear to listen. The thumping grew louder, accompanied by a scratching noise. 

My eyes darted to the air vent on the floor. Something I'd never noticed before. My brows furrowed.

What the hell was Mark hiding under this place?

Ignoring the tremor in my legs I  grabbed a nearby shoe and pried at the grate.

The metal bent with a sickening screech, revealing a cramped, dimly lit crawl space.

The scratching sound intensified, a frantic scraping against the concrete floor. 

Taking a deep breath, I squeezed my body through the narrow opening. 

The air was thick with dust and the metallic tang of fear. 

The space was tight, forcing me to crawl on my hands and knees. 

I followed the sound, the darkness pressing in on me, suffocating.

The scratching turned into a desperate banging, and then, I saw it.

A small, metal hatch set into the concrete floor, secured with a heavy padlock. 

That's where the sound was coming from.

My heart hammered in my chest as I fumbled with the lock, its combination a mystery. 

The banging grew frantic, pleading. Who was trapped down there? And what did Mark have to do with it?

My fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. A key. 

It wasn't on my keychain, but there it was, glinting faintly in the dust. 

With trembling hands, I inserted it into the lock. It clicked open.

Hesitantly, I lifted the hatch. A wave of stale air and a muffled scream hit me. 

As I went down the stairs, a lady came into view. Like she's been waiting for someone to come save her.

The stench that hit me, nearly made me dizzy.

What the hell...I stepped down the stairs while she began to struggle against the chair.

Her scream muffled by the cloth in her mouth.

What she wore left very little to the imagination.

Her body was scarred with both healed and I healed wounds.

I was in disbelief as I shuffled towards her her doe eyes silently pleading with me to rescue her.

Mark? Did Mark really do this?

Then I heard footsteps coming towards me.

Fuck.

I've never been as terrified as this in my life.

I had to get out of here. Now.