Read, Review and Critique for another one?

Okay, my other post in here wasn't my best, and I want to post another story I'm working on. I think it's better written than the other, but it's your call:



Prologue:

Lily, a mere child at six, was too young and too innocent to see such destruction, to live in a world as harsh as the one she was expected to grow up in. Her world was metaphorically reflected around her in a sea of flames and death.
The secluded field in which she hid was ablaze with vicious flames, and the grass beneath her worn feet was dyed gold. The fire elucidated the infant’s fearful eyes and tearstained cheeks in a mask of gold, illuminating her auburn hair till it shone as bright as the flames as though they were reflected in a mirror. Her body was aching from running and she was shaking uncontrollably in understandable terror; she had no escape from the surrounding blaze and was convinced she was going to die. Where was her mummy? Why hadn’t Daddy come to save her, like he always did?
Lily couldn’t remember anything before the fire, for it had filled her entire past, present and future. The child felt dizzy and light-headed, her fists were clenching and relaxing in agitated rhythm, and without thinking she protectively drew a circle in the dusty ground around her palpitating body and curled up into a ball – then simply waited for the pain she knew would come. All her attention was focussed on the line she had drawn, willing the fire not to penetrate, willing herself to survive – but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She was only a little girl.
As she lay, she could feel the heat rising around her, and even the flames began to distort before her eyes from the haze they produced. Lily glanced at the sky – it looked as black and burned as the trees had once the fire had charred their bark. Whimpering as the sparks of fire whirled around her like shooting stars, and she wished she was dead already. Lily knew it would hurt.
“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice cracking from fear and lack of moisture. Where was he? “Help me, Daddy... I’m scared...” The tears began to flow thick and fast down her cheeks, and a cry escaped her lips as she watched the flames creep closer and closer to her circle. Instinctively, her body huddled even closer into a ball. The tears were blurring Lily’s vision, and the deformation of flames became an angry glowing mass before her very eyes, and she screamed in sheer horror. She couldn’t understand what was happening. She couldn’t distinguish from one flame or next or even see the sky – all she saw was orange.
Over and over she screamed, and over and over she cried, until her fragile body was brutally overwhelmed with hyperventilating sobs as realisation settled into her young incapable mind: she was going to die.
“DADDY!” Lily shrieked as she struggled to catch her breath. She was becoming increasingly frantic and could hardly form words. “MUMMY! S-SAVE ME!”
The terrified child clenched her eyes shut and tried to keep herself from crying out. Clamping her lips together, only the occasionally frantic breath escaped before she pressed her mouth shut again. Her daddy wasn’t going to come and save her. He wasn’t a hero who always saved her from spiders anymore. He had abandoned her, just like her mother had a previous year earlier. Lily felt completely alone.
“Please...” she whispered, then, with a last sob, all was silent and she heard no more.

One:


“It was pleasurable tonight,” The man said nonchalantly as he rose to depart the dreary room, a perverse grin playing on his rosy lips. Lily noticed his hands clench at his sides as she spoke. Her stomach tightened. It was dark in the room, for it was late at night, and the only light permitted was that from the hallway beyond - somewhere she wouldn't dare enter tonight - and his outline was illuminated ominously when he occupied the door frame. She swallowed. He gazed at his hostage for a few seconds more before disappearing into the hall before him and snapped the door shut, the slam echoing in the ever complete darkness. Lily was alone and shaking, and despite her temporary blindness, all she could see was the memory of the stabbing blue orbs of her Master's eyes, her mind prolonging their imaginary intensity. They were searching her, boring into her, feeding off her – his victim...
She was going to be sick.
Throwing herself painfully on her side, Lily wretched violently, but brought nothing up; she hadn’t eaten all day, so it was no surprise. Coughing, she felt the dust she had disturbed irritate her eyes. Squeezing them shut, she concentrated for a while on compressing the nausea into something more tolerable, and all the while suffering the glare of his eyes, the vision of how his mouth moved, of how his muscles rippled, and the memory of the gentle scent he carried were etched into her thoughts. The memories made Lily’s skin crawl.
Resigned, she attempted to make the freezing stone more comfortable, but each twist and adjustment sent various shocks of pain through her limbs. Lily gritted her teeth as the clasp of metal around her ankle bit into her blistered foot and closed her eyes, knowing that when she woke up her muscles would ache and cramp.
The rain battled with the windows, the thin pane of glass offering pathetic protection from the cold. The wind screamed as it soared past the rotting brickwork and was cushioned by the whispers of the leaves as it devoured the forest beside the building.
Lily shivered, and then gasped as the slamming of the front door downstairs made her jump. He slammed the door every night before he went out - she really ought to be used to the routine by now, after all, she had participated in it for near enough 11 years. She was almost 17 (though she didn’t know the exact date of her birthday) as she had been informed by the Master – though he could easily be deceiving her – and all she could remember was orange. Flashes of orange and screams – and most vividly, pain. Lily knew of nothing before the orange, and had only known this sick routine after it. Sighing – then immediately regretting the action as stabbing pain pricked at her lungs – Lily decided not to dwell on the past anymore; after all, where had it gotten her when she had thought about it before? Yes, she really ought to try and sleep – she needed as much energy as possible for tomorrow, another day wasted in service to her Master, another day closer to death.

*​

 

She hissed through her teeth as the Master unlocked the manacle around her left ankle; the object had cut into her flesh which had already begun healing against the metal, and as the Master tore it off, her skin was peeled with it.
Her leg automatically flinched away from him, the cause of the pain, and he snarled, snatched at her blistered foot and dragged it painfully back towards him with a sick grin. Lily whimpered with the force of his harsh hands and vice-grip. The Master enjoyed seeing her in pain – she recognised the lust for her screams in his expression, his body language, his voice...
He was watching Lily watch him, and when she locked eyes with his, the unnatural sea-blue of the iris drowned all her thoughts until the blue, his sky, was all she could breathe. What was happening to her?
The manacle fell off her ankle and thudded as it hit the floor, but Lily didn’t realise: the Master was slowly making his way up her naked body and then hovered over her, smirking down at her, their eyes still connected. She could think of nothing else except how close they were and of how scorching his eyes were to her vision. His weight shifted slightly as he reached above Lily’s head, brought her hands together and held them securely in one of his own while supporting his weight on the other. She was trapped beneath her captor with him holding both her hands securely above her head as though she was tied up. Lily could kick him easily enough, but didn’t have the energy or courage to. Surely he wasn’t going to repeat last night? Her palms had barely formed scabs.
As though reading her mind, he barked a laugh and moved away, dragging her hands with him and pulling her into a sitting position, inspecting her palms. She almost moaned as her body ached in protest, but there was nothing she could do and simply allowed herself to be moved.
Lily watched her Master warily as he traced the cuts on her palms with a forefinger. It was only last night he had re-opened the wound on her hand, always in the same shape: two diagonal lines which intercepted each other at the centre, a cross on each palm. As she remembered, she glanced around the room and saw that not two feet away lay the silver dagger he had used to cut her each and every night.
The early morning glow which cushioned the grimy windows poured into the room and illuminated the metal. Lily stared warily at the object for a few moments, uncountable memories plaguing her, and, when she looked back towards the Master, froze as she saw him watch her. His eyes darted quickly to the knife and back at her and he grinned.
“It isn’t night yet,” the Master said, obviously hoping to comfort her, “You don’t need to worry about that.” He indicated the dagger.
He dropped Lily’s hands and stood up, tugging at his shirt and brushing dust off his jeans. Lily couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicker to her and roam over her naked figure, and her face grew hot. He laughed again and turned to walk out of the room.



Well - Scrap? Keep?
Help?
Thank you for those who read and reviewed, and offered critique last time. I appreciate it so much.