روايات وقصص ضمن Torn From Her Arms

Her one arm was chained on a wall but she managed to breakout with the other arm. “We can’t get near her!” Youseff explained. “S-she’s just a beast!”

She squirmed under his arms. " Let go of me. You Devil! " She put her hand on his second shoulder to pull herself away from him. His hand on her back didn't allow it, " Leave me. " She shouted with tears again. Her heart was hammering. It was beating faster like tired stuff after a marathon.

Yet the blood– She continued speaking, like she needed to get it out, the words pained and came out in a disjointed rhythm as she continued trying to breathe. “One came at me, trying to kick me in the head. I grabbed his leg. Tore it out from underneath him. He fell on his back and his pants tore. I drove my hand between his legs and pulled. I had never heard a howl like that.” I stopped cold. She had tore off his… with her bare hands–

The fabric above her strained, threads pulling, threatening to snap apart completely if she moved. Her stomach twisted. If it snapped.... She didn’t finish the thought. Think. Think! Think! That was all she could tell herself. One hand held tight that it burned do fiercely while the other fumbled at her side, gripping the edge of her gown. Without hesitation, she tore at it, the fabric ripping unevenly beneath her shaking fingers. Once. Twice. Harder. The sound seemed too loud in the night. She didn't pause. The aching in her arms were becoming too much.

Or close to it. My head spun. Why were they here with her? What had they done? I looked back at Jules and saw the angry red marks around her wrists. She had been tied, ropes digging so deep into her skin they had cut her. But the ropes were gone now, torn apart, the ends burned away like something powerful had snapped them. I pulled her into my arms, her body light and weak, her breath faint against my chest. My hands shook as I held her, as if she could slip away if I loosened my grip even a little.

It was defiance. She grabbed the shadows gripping her arms and *tore* them away. Her eyes fluttered, returned to their natural green for a brief, glorious moment. “Alina,” she gasped. “It’s so cold.” I stepped closer. “Hold on to me. You’re not alone.”

Where she'd always belonged. With him. In his arms. Home. One more step. Their fingertips nearly brushed, her skin so close he could feel the warmth bleeding from it, could see the fine tremor running through her whole body— A violent wind tore through the chamber with the force of a scream. The firelight hemorrhaged red, painting everything in shades of blood and shadow. Arms—not his, never his—materialized from the darkness behind her, wrapping around her waist with bruising force, yanking her backward into the void.

They shed no more tears; they had dried up, and the traces of them were now parched on her cheeks. She was no longer wearing the same clothes. Instead, she was in a simple white knee-high dress and matching undergarments. Her arms were sore. She pulled against the ropes fastened to her wrists and almost screamed in pain. She had been in that position for two days straight. Her wrists felt like they were on fire, and her arms had gone numb from the pain. She tried to scream, but it was interrupted by the thick cloth tied over her mouth. The material muffled her agonized screams and painful whimpers.

I grabbed her arms, trying to hold on, but it was no use. Whatever was pulling her away from the dream couldn't be stopped. Her lips opened in a soundless scream as she lost her grip on my biceps, her hands slipping down my forearms, nails leaving bloody grooves that I didn't feel. I struggled against the unseen tether, but with one last yank, she was gone. I hit my knees, screaming out my rage and frustration as Atka howled beside me.

rising into something raw and desperate. "Please," she says, in accented English, like someone in the hold might help. "Please, I have done nothing. Please." He answers by grabbing the front of her dress with both fists and ripping it open. The fabric tears like a whipcrack, buttons scattering across the iron floor. She stands exposed, arms flying up to cover herself. He shoves her arms aside.