Chapter five

#I wanted to make one thing clear: after all she had to endure in Chapter 3, Ndeye should die, as a normal human. But not being a normal human, in real life (something you'll find out more about in the future), don't be surprised to see her still alive.

In her Eve outfit, lying on the cold, blood-stained floor, Ndeye was in tears and unable to move at all. Her whole body was in great pain, even though it had little or no effect at all on her. The pain that was then making her cry and moan like a wounded and dying animal was the pain she felt in the depths of her broken soul. Since her arrival in this hell, she had endured torture after torture and if she had this spark of hope in her that made her hope to have a life again if she ever had to leave that hellish life, even though suffering and pain had become to her point of view part of her blood, it was because, at least, unlike many girls in captivity, she had not yet lost her most precious possession, she had not yet lost her innocence. And just some few minutes ago, it had unfortunately and violently been torn from her and with it the last ramparts of her hope, of her being. Her conviction that she could not suffer any more than she already did had also just melted away, consumed by the fire of suffering that was strangling her, suffocating her every second, with every breath a little more.

An empty shell, she was no longer!

A mirror broken into a thousand pieces, she had become!

She was nothing but impurity, soiled by the breath, the hands, the mouth, the body, and above all by the seed of this monster which was inside her and which could, despite herself, give life to a monster which was certainly going to be more cruel, merciless, insensitive and inhuman than it father, conceived in pain, brutality and violence. At this thought, she crawled with the little strength she had to go and lock herself in the dingy bathroom of the horrible torture room where, in addition to her body, her soul suffered bestial torture. Without caring about the state of the room, whose walls had been soiled by the blood that it had become the paint, she went forward. As for the floor, it was cracked and perforated in various places, cracks, and holes that testified to the violence that must have been exercised between the four walls. The bathtub was the only thing presentable, with only its rim stained with blood. In another world, that of tortured souls, Ndeye, indifferent to this dark and macabre picture, took a long bath, rubbing her whole body so hard that she could no longer feel her skin without stopping. It was only when she heard the door of the torture room open that she finally deigned to get out of the bath in a hurry. She was indeed afraid that it was, Khadim, her torturer who had returned to continue his dirty work, which might have had a taste of unfinished business for him. Her rags still torn to shreds by the latter, she had no choice but to put on the blood-stained shirt that was, fortunately for her, lying on the floor and went to pick up the blade that was in the corner of the bathroom and that she had noticed during her long bath before leaving the room, walking like a penguin because of the pain still present in her crotch. When she opened the door, she was very surprised to see that no one was there. Yet she was sure and could swear she had heard the door open, not just hallucinated. Like a frail deer feeling trapped, she then glanced around the room quickly without finding anything suspicious until her eyes fell on the door. It was open, proof that someone had come in to later sneak out, like a thief, and who knows, maybe to give her a chance to run away, although it was too late for her liking, or even just out of curiosity, to see what Khadim had done to her. Still, she did not dwell on this detail, however, and left this room, which now contained within it the last ramparts of her being that had been torn away from her, to return to her cell, continuing to walk like a penguin. As soon as she passed the tiny door, she just let herself fall on the straw without being able to hold back her tears which began to flow. Still, she found enough strength to turn around to stand on her right side before pulling out the blade she had hidden in the right sleeve of the folded shirt.

It was and would never be worth anything again.

A first cut!

She was cursed.

A second cut!

She would never get out of this hell.

A third cut!

She deserved nothing more from life, except pain.

A fourth cut!

She simply did not deserve to live anymore.

A fifth cut!

..........

After just over half an hour of mutilating herself with the blade she had taken with her when she left that dingy bathroom, Ndeye, who was barely conscious, had lost count. All that mattered to her now was that she suffer more and more, that she bleeds to death, that she finally dies and she was almost there. She had almost achieved her goal when Coumba burst like a fury into the cell, having learned that she was back there, but not without almost hitting the door in the face. Seeing her mutilating herself, she immediately ran to rip the blade out of her hand, bursting into tears from the guilt and regret that had been eating away at her at the sight of Ndeye's pitiful state.

_ I'm sorry. So sorry. It's my fault you're in this state.

These were the last words Ndeye heard from her, her vision blurred before she fainted, unable to answer her.