Chapter 1
WARNING: Mature content. (Read with caution)
Includes blood, sharp weapon, kidnapping, etc.
I hear the sound of the door opening and instantly grow scared. "Awake, I see." The man says as he shuts the door behind him and walks over to me. He kneels to face me. Gripping his knife he makes a small cut in the side of my neck. I turn away and try to ignore the slight pain. "It's almost too easy to make you so weak and pathetic."
I still ignore him, holding back a few tears. "Are you afraid of me?" He asks. I stay quiet, thinking he might give up and leave, but instead he just gets closer. "Answer me." He says firmly. I nod a little bit, and it's the truth. He's silent for a moment. "Why so?"
I think of how I'm literally tied to a chair in a small, dark room, which was his doing, whoever he is. "I don't know." I say.
"I'll just have to guess, then." He says, but I still stay quiet. "Alright." He shrugs. "Is it because I can do this?" He holds his knife against my neck. I don't speak, mainly because I'm afraid to. Fortunately, he puts the knife back to his side. I can see him glance down for a split second. "Or..."
He slowly reaches his hand for the rim of the pants I'm wearing and starts to pull them down even slower. My eyes widen, suddenly terrified. I shut my eyes really tight. "Stop..." I say in a small voice. But he doesn't stop.
"What was that?" He smirks, knowing exactly what I said.
"I said stop." I say a bit louder and more firmly. He smiles and lets go.
"Okay then." He says. There's a moment of silence between us.
"Is that really the only reason you do it?" I ask, referring to what he told me earlier when I asked him why he kidnapped me. He looks a bit confused. "That you think it's fun."
"Pretty much." He chuckles a little. He must notice I'm moving my wrists, which are tied to the armrests on the chair. "Too tight?" He asks. I look away again, not knowing what to say.
"It's not like you're gonna loosen them after before." I think of how he loosened the ropes for me before. How I tried to make a break for the door. How my plan backfired and only made things worse.
"Mm." He hums in what sounds like agreement. "Do you need anything to eat, drink...?" He sounds sincere for a second, but I don't but into it.
"I don't want anything from you." I say. I'm afraid he might get mad, but he actually smiles.
"Oh, that's satisfying." He puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. I've noticed how he seems to enjoy when I talk and don't act all pathetic like he said I was. "What if I were to just..." He grips his knife again and does a slice on my arm close to my shoulder, enough to where it drips a bit of blood. Fear starts to rush back into me. I wish I weren't wearing short sleeves.
"Please ... just stop." I say weakly, a single tear falling.
"Aw, what's the matter?" He chuckles darkly and wipes it away, mocking me of my grief.
"What do you want from me?" I ask, trying not to sound too rude, but also not too meek.
"Oh, nothing in particular." He slides a finger on the side of the knife. I expected him to say something else, but he didn't.
I think for a second. "How long are you going to keep me here?" I ask. I can't tell if his expression is annoyed or confused. Then he just smiles again.
"Well, depends..." He says. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn't.
"Depends on what?" I ask.
"On what I want, how I'm feeling." He says all too normally. Then he does another one of his evil-ish smiles. "I mean, I could kill you right now if I wanted to." He picks up his knife again. I flinch a little, thinking he may do just that, but then he laughs at me. "What, afraid?" I sigh. I'm probably going to die here.
