Chapter 8: The Pit of Secrets

Isabella was trapped in a dark and cold pit. The mud was thick and sticky, clinging to her legs like wet fingers pulling her down. She lay curled up, trying to make herself small. Her hands were tied behind her back with a rough rope that cut into her wrists, making her bleed. The blood dripped slowly into the mud, making sounds with each drop.

A gag was tied around her mouthe, making it hard for her to breathe. It was wet with her spit and tears, and it made her feel like she was choking. She tried to cry out, but all that came out were muffled sounds - mmph, mmph! Her nose was stuffy, making it very hard to breatwe. Her face was sore cause of the fall.

She felt a deep fear inside of her. She was alone and felt like she had no control over what was happening. She didn't know how she would escape the pit or what the future held. These thoughts went through her head, making her feel anxious and not sure if what will happen.

All she could do was lie there, feeling the cold going into her bones. She was scared, hurt, and felt totally helpless. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she wondered if anyone would come to save her..Her burned hands stung bad, blisters popping open, raw and red, her ribs ached from Dante's kicks, throbbing with every move. Her dress was shredded rags, muddy and bloody, her knees scraped and oozing, tears running down her muddy cheeks—she was a wreck, so small and sad.

Dante towered over her, his gray eyes flashing mad in the dark, his scar shiny with sweat. "Get up!" he yelled, kicking her leg hard—thud! She screamed into the gag—mmph!—pain shooting up, her body shaking, her burned hands scraping mud—ow! "Stop slowing me!" he shouted, grabbing her arm, yanking her up fast. She stumbled, crying loud—mmph!—her legs wobbly, her burned hands hitting the slimy wall, stinging worse. He pushed her back down, rough and mean, her face splashing into mud—splat! She coughed, gagging more, mud in her eyes, tears falling fast—she was so hurt, and he wouldn't stop.

He climbed the wall, his boots slipping—squelch!—cursing loud, bad words echoing in the pit. "Marco! Rope!" he yelled, his voice booming, shaking the dirt. Isabella blinked mud from her eyes, dizzy and sick, her tummy growling loud—she was so hungry, her head spinning. She looked up, her breath hitching, and saw something—letters scratched in the muddy wall, rough and old: Victor K. Her heart jumped hard—was that him? The same messy writing as the note from the dark room? She stared, her eyes big, tears dripping—another clue, and she couldn't tell, gagged and stuck.

Marco's face popped over the edge, smoke swirling around him, his voice shaky. "Boss! Hurry! Fire's close!" He threw a rope down, brown and frayed, swinging in the dark. Dante grabbed it, pulling hard, his muscles bulging, kicking Isabella back to keep her down—thud! "Stay!" he snapped, like she was a bad dog. She sobbed—mmph!—her ribs screaming, her burned hands useless, mud caking her scratched legs. Fire roared above—crackle, hiss!—heat sneaking down, warming the pit, smoke curling in thick and black—readers would feel her panic, she was so scared.

Dante climbed out fast, his boots scraping—scrape, scrape!—mud falling on her like wet snow. Marco yelled, "Her too!" his voice far, coughing loud. Dante growled, mad, tossing the rope back down—thump! "Move it!" he shouted, tying it around her quick, rough and tight. It cut into her sides, burning her skin like hot wire, and she cried louder—mmph, mmph! They yanked her up, fast and hard, her body banging the wall—thud, thud!—mud scraping her cuts, her burned hands dragging—ow! She screamed, muffled, dangling like a broken doll, every pull hurting more, her scratched legs kicking air.

They dragged her out, dropping her hard on the ground—thump!—her knees hitting dirt, crying out—mmph! Ash stuck to her bloody hands, stinging like salt, her ribs aching bad. Smoke choked her more, her eyes red and watery, tears streaming—she could barely see, barely breathe. Then—pop, pop!—bullets flew, loud and close, hitting trees—crack!—dirt flying up. Marco yelled, "They're here!" running fast, shooting back—bang, bang! Dante grabbed Isabella, pulling her up rough, her wrists bleeding fresh—drip, drip—her legs shaking.

She stumbled, sobbing hard—mmph!—when a bullet hit—thud!—Marco's leg, blood spurting out like a fountain. He fell, yelling, "Boss, help!" his voice high and scared, rolling in the ash. Isabella froze, her eyes huge, crying loud into the gag—mmph! Marco was hurt bad, bleeding fast, and bad guys kept shooting—pop, pop! Dante dragged her behind a tree, shoving her down hard—thump!—her knees banging again—ow! "Stay!" he yelled, running to Marco, leaving her there.

She curled up tight, shaking, her burned hands stinging, her tummy empty and twisting, bullets zipping close—zip, zip! Smoke wrapped around her, hot and thick, fire glowing red through the trees— she was so lost, so hurt, bad guys everywhere.