Shattered Doll speaks

"Welcome, Ellie."

Instinctively, my body froze. It was my uncle. "Mr. Mariano," I whispered, trying to steady my trembling body.

He stepped closer, and when I looked at him, I saw a menacing look in his eyes. He scanned me from head to toe, each passing second making his hazel eyes darker. The little light that filtered through the curtains seemed to make his gaze even more intense, almost glassy.

"I'm g-going to g-go now," I stammered, trying to back away, but he grabbed my hand, spinning me around harshly.

His eyes locked onto mine, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "Do you know you're prettier than an angel?" he purred.

I knew where this conversation was headed, and memories of that night came rushing back. "No, no… please let me go," I cried, trying to pull away from his grip, my tears flowing uncontrollably.

"Nah, I think it's time I visited you again," he said, and before I could fight back, he threw me over his shoulder. I kicked and screamed, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

"No, no, no, no. Please, please, let me go, Uncle Carl!" My sobs were becoming more frantic, but he ignored them, carrying me to the kitchen and throwing me roughly to the floor. The pain from my stitches twisted, making me scream.

"Ahhh!" The scream tore through me as I felt the familiar, horrifying sensation of my body being violated. His words cut through my haze of fear like a predator's growl. "You don't know how long I've been dreaming about this, ever since that incident," he said, his voice low and menacing, almost hungry.

I tried to run, but he pinned me down. The darkness in my mind took over, and I couldn't escape the memories of what had happened before.

"AH!"

"Get up," he growled, still not fully dressed. I lay there, sobbing, blood staining the cold kitchen floor. It felt like my body was no longer mine. My stitches hadn't reopened, but I felt completely violated, stripped of my dignity.

"Hm mmm." My body shook with quiet sobs while he chuckled, satisfied. And then he left.

I remained on the floor for a while, broken and battered. A few minutes later, two maids came in and handed me some clothes. I tried to stand, but the pain was unbearable. I collapsed to the ground, and Dante appeared out of nowhere, dragging me back to the basement while the house was cleaned.

Knock. Knock.

I quickly sat up, though my body screamed in pain. Through blurred vision, I saw Mira standing at the door. "My dear, I'm so sorry about…" she started, but I interrupted her.

"Please, don't," I whispered, not wanting to hear any more apologies. I knew what she wanted to say, but I couldn't bear to hear it.

"Well, when you're done, Mrs. Kuiro summoned you," she said gently, handing me a tray. On it was a piece of meat with rice and stew. My stomach growled, and I nearly cried. It had been months since I last tasted something that didn't taste like salt, bread, or water.

"Now, Ely, go meet the devil," I told myself, bracing for what was next.

As I made my way to the living room, I could hear raised voices. I stood by the door, hoping they wouldn't notice me, but of course, I was wrong.

"Ay, whore, come here," my father's voice cut through the tension.

I walked into the room, lowering my gaze to the floor as I deeply bowed. "Good evening."

"Why do you look so dirty?" my father sneered. "Mira, go clean her up."

I was shocked when I looked up and saw Mira's surprised expression. But I didn't dare question my father. "Should I say it again?" he growled.

I shook my head and left with Mira. But something caught my eye as I left. Anamis was giving me one of her signature smirks. My gut twisted. Something was wrong.

"Dear, you look stunning," Mira complimented as she helped me get ready.

"Thanks, Aunt Mira."

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing myself. I looked good—too good, considering what had just happened. And yet, there was a sinking feeling in my stomach that wouldn't go away.

A knock at the door startled me. "Mr. Kuiro is waiting for you," came Sébastien's voice.

As I walked out, I could feel Anamis' eyes burning into me, her expression a mixture of shock and anger. My father, however, was smirking. Everyone was smirking, and I couldn't understand why.

This was the first time I had to ride in the same car with my father, and the drive was painfully silent. My heart pounded with every passing second. Soon, we arrived at a massive black building that stood tall and imposing.

Walking inside, my insides churned at the pungent smell that filled the air—alcohol, smoke, and something else I couldn't quite place. We entered an elevator in complete silence. When the doors opened, we stepped into a hallway, leading to a black door at the end.

As we entered, the atmosphere hit me immediately. It was stuffy, smoky, and the scent of alcohol and cigarettes was overwhelming. A man's deep voice echoed from behind the desk in the dark room.

"Welcome, Mr. Kuiro."

The room felt suffocating. Every inch of my body screamed for escape, but I had no choice but to stay and play my part.