The house in the woods
**Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of kidnapping, psychological distress, captivity, and destruction of personal belongings. Reader discretion is strongly advised.**
### **Chapter Three: The House in the Woods**
Eden’s legs felt like lead as he walked.
Or maybe he wasn’t walking at all. Maybe he was just being **dragged** forward, his body moving because there was no other option, because the knife had been so **fucking close** to his throat, because every inch of him was screaming to **run** but he knew he wouldn’t make it two steps.
The night was **too quiet.** The wind barely moved. The trees stretched high and endless, like they’d swallowed the world whole. The car was already behind them, its presence fading into the darkness as the man led him forward—toward the house.
It wasn’t what Eden expected.
Not a broken-down shack. Not a cabin barely standing.
It was **big.**
Two stories. Windows blacked out from the inside. A porch wrapped around it like a mouth half-open, waiting to swallow him whole. The door loomed in front of him, thick, dark wood, a single lock gleaming in the dim light.
Eden’s breath shuddered.
He **couldn’t go inside.**
If he did, that was it.
If he crossed that threshold, he wasn’t walking back out.
His fingers twitched at his side. His heart slammed against his ribs. **Do something. Do something now.**
But before he could move, the grip on his wrist **tightened**, yanking him forward, forcing him up the steps, across the threshold, into the dim, suffocating air of the house.
The door **shut** behind them.
The lock clicked.
Eden sucked in a sharp breath, spinning—**only to freeze.**
The man was already looking at him. Not watching. **Studying.** Like he was dissecting every movement, every breath, every twitch of his fingers.
And then, slowly, he held out a hand.
“Phone.”
Eden’s stomach **dropped.**
He shook his head before he could stop himself. “I—I don’t have it.”
The man smiled. **Smiled.**
“You really think I’m stupid?”
Eden’s pulse roared in his ears. He could feel it, the weight of his phone in his pocket, so **fucking close** yet useless. He thought about running. Thought about **lying.** But the man had already closed the distance between them.
His hand slid into Eden’s pocket, fingers brushing against his thigh as he pulled the phone free. Eden jerked back, but it didn’t matter.
The man had it.
And then, before Eden could **beg,** before he could **plead**, before he could say **please, please don’t—**
The man tossed it into the fireplace.
Eden’s heart **stopped.**
Flames swallowed the screen, crackling, licking up the edges like hungry mouths, melting the plastic, the glass, the **only fucking thing he had left.** The air filled with the sharp, acrid smell of burning metal, of something final, something **gone.**
Eden’s breath hitched. “You—”
“What?” the man murmured, tilting his head. “Did you think I’d let you keep it?”
Eden didn’t realize he was shaking. Didn’t realize his nails had dug into his palms until his skin burned. **This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.**
The man stepped closer. **Too close.**
“Come,” he said. “I’ll show you your room.”
Eden didn’t move. He couldn’t.
But the man didn’t **ask again.**
A hand pressed against the small of his back, guiding him forward, deeper into the house, past dark hallways and doors that stayed **shut.** Every step felt heavier, the weight of something terrible pressing down on him, sinking into his bones.
And then they stopped.
The man pushed open a door.
Inside, there was a bed. A **real** one. Not a mattress on the floor, not some cage disguised as comfort. There were **books**, stacked neatly on a small shelf. There was a **window**, small and covered with thick glass, but still—**a window.**
Eden’s breath came fast and shallow. He stared at it, chest rising and falling too quickly. He could fit through that. Maybe. If he could break the glass, if he could—
The man chuckled.
Eden stiffened.
“If you’re thinking of running,” the man said, voice light, almost **teasing**, “just remember what I told you.”
Eden swallowed.
The threat still rang in his ears. **If you run, I’ll slit your fucking neck.**
The man took a step back, gesturing at the room.
“Make yourself comfortable.”
Eden didn’t move.
The man smiled again.
And then he shut the door.
And locked it.
