[Sasha Girl]

CAGED - DAY 18

Gabriel waited until his men had departed early the next morning to take his first good look at Natasha. As instructed they had placed her back in her cage when they were done and it was there that he found her, lying curled up on the ground. She looked so broken and so still and small that it did not seem likely she still breathed at all. Cursing under his breath fearing the worst, he unlocked the door and crawled in beside her. Ever so gently, he grasped her right wrist and pressed his fingers over it, looking for a pulse. Moments later he sighed in relief and it was then that he was able to take it all in. The bruises. The bite marks. The blood. Her pale skin was the perfect canvas for the vicious signs and it seemed to Gabriel not one square inch of it remained blank in the aftermath of the brutal attack. As for her insides… he could tell that without checking, based on what he knew. She would be neither the first nor the last woman that the Wolf Squad had fucked up and that at his command. At. His. Command.

As he extracted Natasha from her cage, Gabriel felt quite certain that whatever pain she felt, it could not compare to the gut wrenching feeling in his own chest.

*******

Natasha was not aware of Gabriel’s arms cradling her or his broad chest pressing against her. After enduring what she did and then spending the night in the cage, she was in a state of shock, no longer conscious of her surrounds. Her head lolled weakly, thrown back over his arm, her legs swinging loosely with each step. As he went to lay her on his bed, her free arm trailed underneath her and he had to take extra care not to trap it there. Natasha herself could not have moved it. Natasha herself was no longer there.

“Natasha…” he said her name, knowing it was in vain. The word sorry floated up in his mind but he pushed it down angrily as fast as it came. The world was a harsh place and the only true measure of a man was through his actions, not his words. He of all people knew that. Leaving Natasha where she was for the moment, he turned on his heel and strolled over to the medicine cabinet, already mapping out her treatment in his head.

An hour or so later he sat down at his laptop and began composing the message that would change her fate.

*******

CAGED - DAYS 19 TO 29

For the next ten days Gabriel took care of Natasha, providing her with drugs and fluids and as much food as she could keep down. Aware of her fragile state, he pumped her full of painkillers, only letting her surface for brief periods each day. She had to keep still, he told her as he injected her in the vein. She only stared at him mutely and it tore at his heart. He never meant to break her, but he had. He would give anything to see her mad.

*******

When she first regained consciousness and found herself in Gabriel’s bed, Natasha thought she was dreaming. Pretty soon the sharp pain in her body told her otherwise and she moaned. At once he came and stuck a needle in her arm. Keep still, he told her, not telling her why. She did not ask, because she knew. She wondered if she would ever be whole again. Then with the drug taking effect she slept. She had no dreams and she was glad. After what she had been through, she never wanted to dream again.

One day she awoke to find him touching her between her legs. Her immediate reaction was to protest, but with the drug still in her system she was drowsy. In the end she decided to say nothing. What did it matter any more? She was his whore.

Days merged into nights and nights into days. Inside the underground shelter it was all the same. The drug-induced haze was her only refuge and silence, her favourite game. She was content to float along, never feeling anything. Then one day he stopped drugging her and her soul exploded in pain.

*******

CAGED - DAY 30

The scream began in Natasha’s head and wound its way out of her mouth with the rolling consistency of a giant ocean wave. A tsunami. Unlike a wave, however, the sound she produced did not crash against an imaginary shore, but went on to build to a crescendo loud enough to pierce the eardrums of any creature standing near. Before her lungs ran out of air, the scream mutated to a howl, expressing her sorrow more eloquently than words ever could. Carried away by its haunting beauty, she kept supplying it with air while her chest constricted with pain. It was not from the lack of oxygen.

Waking up in the middle of the night to hear Natasha scream, Gabriel felt his first stirring of joy in what seemed like a very long time. The feeling was a welcome break from the doom and gloom that had besieged him for the previous ten days. She had been silent throughout that time, but now she was screaming in obvious emotional anguish. Gabriel knew everything there was to know about pain. Most of all he knew that where there was pain, there was life and where there was life, there was hope. He let her scream for several minutes longer then silently like a wolf he rose from his place on the floor.

“Hello Natasha,” he said, materialising beside her apparently from thin air. Startled, she leapt away from him along the bed and he felt a familiar urge to give chase. He suppressed it for the moment, feeling immensely proud of himself.

“How are you feeling?” he said and he smiled. In the darkness he did not see her expression change.

A split second later, Natasha launched herself from the bed, her hands clawing at his face.

*******

Hello Natasha. How are you feeling? It was what he had said to her on the day he first locked her in the cage. A lifetime ago, but she remembered it as clear as day. He fucked her up the ass and he wanted to know how it made her feel. Bastard. She could not answer him back then. Back then she was weak, her body free of scars. Back then she did not know the true meaning of rage.

Gabriel did not expect the attack. This and the sheer ferociousness that she employed, allowed Natasha to score a hit. Her nails scratched a groove in his forehead, narrowly missing the eyes. Her weight unbalanced him slightly, making him take a step back. Then his lifetime of training kicked in and he fought back. With that the tables were turned.
The difference in their fighting styles was immediately obvious and would have been so obvious to even the most casual observer. While Natasha screamed and flailed about madly, Gabriel was silent like the night. His movements were fast yet precise, with his weight perfectly balanced over his feet. Ignoring the blood dripping in his eye, he blocked her next move with one arm, while with the other he struck out. It looked very easy and not particularly violent, but a moment later Natasha’s screams of rage became a whine. Gabriel adjusted his grip, bending her hand back and to the side. Her arm was twisted with it and the next thing she knew she was on her knees before him.

“Aahhh…” she panted, trying to hold back the pain spreading from her wrist and her arm.

Gabriel leaned over her, the better to manipulate her into position.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asked. She saw that his free hand was resting behind his back and she seethed.

“B…b…bastard!” she stammered through gritted teeth. To her indignation and surprise, he threw back his head and laughed.

“Good to have you back, Natasha,” he said. He pulled her to the cage and manoeuvred her inside. As he was locking her in, she turned to him and spat:

“Evil fucker… I wish I could’ve clawed out your eyes. Then you could never look at me again.”

He became serious then, but he did not rise to the bait. He just looked at her with his pale wolf eyes and said:

“Be that as it may, I’m awfully glad I didn’t break you.”

The cage floor that night felt extra hard after the soft comfort of his bed.

*******