Chapter 2 — Chapter 2

As soon as the cars were parked and the luggage taken to the rooms, we grabbed our things and headed to the sea. I barely had time to put sunscreen on the boys before they squealed and dashed into the water. The staff followed to set up the sun loungers, beach umbrellas, and tables, and a bit later, Elena Alexandrovna joined us with her daughter.

Back at the villa, I was surprised to see the Victorian style of the interior, with its smooth curves and classic furniture, clearly handmade and very expensive. I tried to look at the decor more discreetly, though it was my first time seeing anything like it. The portraits hanging along the walls were obviously painted by some famous artist.

The first week was so hectic that the kids fell asleep at lunchtime right where they were sitting. I had to carry them to bed, and in the evening, they didn't even need a bedtime story because they were so exhausted from the day and fell asleep as soon as they closed their eyes.

"Alright, it's time for me to go," Elena Alexandrovna said, hugging the children with a sigh. As we had discussed earlier, she was ready to head back, and her car was already waiting. "See you in two weeks, my dears."

The twins couldn't wait for the car to drive out of the gate before dragging me to the shore. We got quite tanned, though I tried to stay out of the sun because my skin was too fair for the southern sun. As for the kids, they tanned instantly, turning almost black.

The next few days flew by unnoticed, filled with walks to the sea, swimming, playing, and activities, until a storm came. We literally locked ourselves in the house, waiting out the fury of nature and lowering the blinds because debris and branches were flying through the air.

"Are you scared?" the boys asked me, though they were frightened themselves but didn't show it. I was just putting them to bed after finishing their bedtime story.

"Of course, I'm a girl!" I reassured them, patting each on the head, and then, without much thought, I lay down on the small couch next to them.

"Are you going to sleep here?" Misha asked.

"Yes, I'll be scared alone, but not with you."

"Yes, you won't be scared with us," they agreed, hugging each other and falling asleep. That night, I let them sleep in the same bed.

I tossed and turned for a long time but couldn't fall asleep. The wind outside howled as if it were speaking, complaining, and threatening. At one point, the lights flickered and went out, and a while later, the generator hummed quietly. It provided little electricity, so the lamps barely lit the room.

After lying there a bit longer, I quietly got up, took a sheet of paper and a pencil, and wrote a chilling poem that seemed as if it wasn't written by me. All my previous poems were light, as if foretelling something bright, but this one... My heart trembled and ached painfully, as if sensing trouble.

Sighing, I lay back down on the couch, trying to sleep. The storm soon began to subside, and then I heard strange sounds that sounded like... gunshots?

I jumped up and listened intently, clearly hearing muffled shouts. In a panic, I looked around and rushed through the children's room, frantically thinking where to hide the little ones.

"To the attic!" I realized, rushing to the twins.

"Boys!" I started waking them, pulling them out of bed.

"What's happening?" they squeaked, clinging to me in fear.

"You need to hide in the attic until I call for you," I commanded, dragging the kids with me. Fortunately, the stairs to the attic were on our floor but hidden. It was a hatch in the ceiling, and to lower it, you had to press a button on the wall.

"Mom said that when adults say something like this, you have to listen and stay quiet," Stas whispered, and I, grabbing some blankets, urged the twins forward. Hearing our steps, Lera opened the door to her room, peeking out into the hallway in fear.

"Go upstairs with the boys!" I hissed at her, and she, wrapping herself in her blanket, nodded silently. "Do you have your phone? Text your mom! But don't call, and turn off the sound and vibration."

"What about you?" she asked, pushing the boys up and climbing after them.

I heard the sound of footsteps and realized that the ladder could only be closed from the outside. Pushing the girl up, I pressed the button, closing the hatch and quickly slipping into a room where I hid in a closet. It was naive to think they wouldn't find me there, but I had no time to find a better hiding spot. I could hear doors being slammed open, angry shouts, and loud cursing. Terrified, I covered my ears with my hands and stayed quiet, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. Suddenly, the closet door was flung open, banging against the wall, and I was dragged out by my hair, thrown roughly to the floor.

"The boys are nowhere to be found!" someone announced, standing in the doorway, while all I could see were their boots in front of my face.

"Maybe she took them with her? But I think the girl will be enough!" came the reply.

They yanked me up by my hair, lifting my face to look at them.

"Well, bitch, shall we initiate you?" the stranger asked.

Lifting me from the floor, he threw me onto the bed, and I just whimpered, not understanding what he meant. His hoarse voice, cutting through my ears, was enough to make me feel fear. The man looked terrifying: his face and body were covered in horrible scars and tattoos of a wolf on his arm and other strange symbols. Even his head was covered in writings and scars, completely bald. I couldn't look at him closely; I wanted to close my eyes. Grinning, the stranger pulled off his shirt and dropped his shorts, and I looked in horror at his lower half, fully understanding what he intended to do.

"What's wrong, young wolf? Never seen a cock like this before? You're about to find out what it feels like..."

Grabbing my legs, the stranger pulled me closer, tearing the thin fabric of my dress with one swift motion. I tried to cover myself with the remnants and break free, but he wouldn't let me.

"No, sweetheart... You're not going anywhere!"

Pulling at my leg, the man ripped off my panties and bra. His right hand gripped my throat, slightly choking me, and I grabbed his fingers, trying to break his iron grip. Leaning over me, he forced my knees apart with his knee, and I stared in horror at his face twisted with hatred, realizing there would be no mercy. In a moment, his huge cock thrust into me, like a piece of red-hot iron. The pain from the sudden penetration made me scream and thrash beneath him, while he growled:

"Virgin... What a waste!"

He continued to thrust into me with sharp movements. I was as if in a fog, not realizing what was happening, while my body was twisted and positioned in different poses, fucked over and over again. I was sinking into the merciful darkness, but they brought me back with slaps.

"Open your mouth, bitch! I want to finish beautifully!" my tormentor soon demanded, laughing in some kind of ecstasy and prying my jaws apart to shove his cock into my mouth. Smearing the blood from my busted lips, triggering a gag reflex, he thrust roughly, forcing my head onto his cock, and finally, with a hoarse sound, thrust one last time, cumming and making me swallow.

"Great fun!"

The man stood up, kicking me away with his foot.

"Boss, we've got problems!" someone declared at the door.

"What?" he asked in response.

"It's not the daughter, I found their family portrait. It's probably the nanny!"

"Fuck! Where are they? Have you checked everything?"

"They're not in the house!"

Then his radio crackled, and a voice came through: "Boss, we're surrounded. We need to leave."

"Hey, girl. No offense, I got the wrong person! But it was fucking good!"

They kicked me in the stomach again, which was the point of no return. The darkness finally enveloped me.

***

*Notes of a Madwoman: "Today I was a little bird, a forest bird. I flew carelessly, catching flies, slept in a nest on a tree. Isn't it sweet?"*

"Good doctors and pills here, the hallucinations are just superb. Full immersion into the role, but the return, as always, is extremely painful," I mused to myself, as my body was numb from long sleep, making it painful when I started to get up. "One good thing, I'm alone in the ward, and the view from the barred window is beautiful, in a way," I mentally added, sitting up on the bed.

"Good morning, Angeliya," greeted Zinaida Viktorovna, my treating doctor, as she entered the ward. A plump woman in her fifties, with a short haircut and no makeup on her face. Her soft and calm voice immediately inspired trust and didn't cause any rejection.

"Good morning!" I responded, stretching and getting to my feet.

"So, what did you dream about today?" she asked, sitting on a chair next to me.

"I was a bird," I confessed to her, heading to the small bathroom to wash up and pausing over the sink, splashing water on my face. In the small mirror above the sink, a stranger was reflected, thin as a stick, with pale skin that had lost even its freckles. My short-cropped hair stuck out in unruly strands, not even covering my neck. Wetting my hands, I combed them back with my fingers to keep them out of my face. My blue eyes looked at me from the mirror with universal sorrow...

"Did you stay alive?" the woman asked.

"Yes, I fell asleep in the nest. It's the sixth dream where I stay alive," I noted, returning to the ward and picking up a thick, worn notebook to look at the last written lines.

"Maybe it's time to go free? Like a bird?"

"What about the pills? I can't see such dreams without them."

"You've been taking vitamins and mild sedatives before bed for a long time," the doctor informed me.

"What?" I asked, surprised, lifting my head and looking at her skeptically.

"You've been here for nine months. And for the last six months, I've been reducing your medication, switching it to vitamins."

"I can't..."

"You can! Today, they'll return your belongings, and you'll get internet access. You have a laptop in your ward with network access, so watch some movies and read books online," she suggested.

"When am I supposed to leave here?" I asked her, finally finishing writing about my dream and the new poem that came with it. Zinaida Viktorovna was photographing them for study. Over the time I'd been at the clinic, I'd accumulated six notebooks; the current one was the seventh, and it had only a few blank pages left.

"That's a decision you have to make yourself," the woman explained, standing up and squeezing my shoulder, then repeating, "You yourself!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, and then the general breakfast bell rang, distracting me from my heavy thoughts. Sighing quietly, I carefully walked around her and headed to the dining room.

***

The doctor, with two decades of practice at this clinic, always managed her patients well. Some took years, others months, but Angeliya was a bird with broken wings, an amazing creature with the gift of clairvoyance. "Hello, Lenochka! I've sent you a new prediction by email. I told her it's time for her to go. Yes, I gave her the laptop this morning and allowed her to go online. Everything, as we discussed. No, there are no more memories. They're hidden, although, of course, it's unknown what and when might resurface in her memory. Now there's only fear of strangers, especially men. Yes, I'll let you know right away. I won't say goodbye," Zinaida Viktorovna spoke on the phone with an old acquaintance while preparing the necessary documentation. After finishing their conversation, she pulled the girl's chart towards herself and began filling it out, at the end writing the diagnosis: "Healthy."

***

Receiving the bags from the nurse, I looked at them as if they might come to life at any moment. After half an hour, I hesitantly unzipped the first one and then shook out its contents onto the bed. Inside were several dresses, underwear, a sweater, and a towel, as well as jeans and two pairs of shoes, sneakers, and sandals. There were also various small items that I had long forgotten about. After sorting through the things, I started folding the dresses back, well aware that I would never dare to wear them again. I set aside only the jeans and a couple of loose t-shirts. Next, I decided to open the bag with the laptop, which I had been given before but without internet access. I used to draw pictures on it, recreating various images that swarmed in my head. Setting it on the table, I clicked on the network search and involuntarily held my breath in anticipation.

My laptop beeped and showed it was available, so I immediately clicked "join". I slowly sat down on the chair, my hand hovering over the mouse, ready to click the browser icon. "What do I feel like seeing?" I wondered, then clicked the button, and a search bar opened in front of me. Next came a spontaneous query where I wanted to see photos of the sea. "Storm," I noticed one of the first images, followed by a tornado, a quiet morning, evening, storm, winter sea, summer... "Maybe I should go after all?" I asked myself, exhaling and closing my eyes. "Summer is coming soon. The money in the bank hasn't gone anywhere. It'll be enough for modest accommodation," I pondered to myself, and the idea lit up like a bulb, illuminating my dark little world where I had hidden like a snail in its shell. "Can I do it?" I suddenly doubted, then turned off my laptop and closed its lid, curling up into a ball on the bed and thinking. "What awaits me there?" I asked myself and found no answer.

***

"Read the new prophecy from the seer. The girl writes about herself."

Several men sat in Elena Alexandrovna's office.

"She wants to live on the coast, but away from cities and crowds," one said, reading the provided text and nodding.

"And?" the woman asked, clasping her hands together. She owed the girl her children's lives, so she tried to do everything to help her move forward. She paid for the best psychiatric clinic, and a doctor used hypnosis to hide all the bad memories and bring her back to the world of people.

"We have all of Crimea at our disposal. There are places where you can only reach the houses by a trail. The Red Sea and the Black Sea, plus two villages. We'll decide which one suits her best," the man thought aloud and, opening his tablet, quickly scrolled through maps of the villages that were closed to outside visitors.

"Take care of it and start sending her emails with photos, making it look like a regular mailing," she commanded, dismissing them.

"They're not children, so they'll figure it out. Having a seer in the clan is a huge advantage, as all her poems have been accounted for, and some have brought great benefit. For example, we found the bastards who wanted to seize power and the profitable business I inherited after my husband's death. We found those who were dissatisfied and leaking information to competitors. Several deals from shell companies were stopped before the contracts were signed. That's why we need to protect her and do everything possible to help the girl start a normal life again," Elena Alexandrovna thought, watching the men leave.