Consider that a gift, I said I would kill you, but you're still breathing, kitten.
She read over his text. She'd rather he took her life and ended her everlasting misery. A gift. She laughed to herself, of course that's how he'd see it. He'd stripped her into nothing and he claimed that he was giving her a gift by allowing her to breathe.
The idea of going to the police had vanished and long trashed into the bin. She knew that, that was his warning, to let her know how easy it is for him to get his hands on her, how easy it is for him to take away her very last breath. She knew that now, she cursed herself for even telling him that she was going to the police but either way, he always knew what she was getting up to so there was no stopping him from doing the damage.
Deciding, she wasn't going to sit around and feel sorry for herself, she made her way down the stairs with the intentions of cleaning up the mess in the kitchen that they had made but as her gaze fell onto the broken glasses, the bloody scissors and the bloody table cloth on the floor, her heart sunk to her stomach, bile threatening to spill as the images of him attacking her broke into her head.
Her body was trembling with nausea as she stared at his blood that had dripped onto the tiles, she could almost feel him on top of her, she could almost feel him, inside of her. Gagging on her none existing vomit, she clutched onto the wall, trying to steady herself. She took deep and slow breaths in hopes of calming her fragile nerves. Step at a time, one by one, she cleaned the kitchen, scrubbing the floor until it was spotless, scrubbing away his DNA. Scrubbing until she mentally couldn't scrub no more.
Putting her legs to work, she ran out of the front door, bending down and clutching her knees as her panic heightened with every moment she had spent in the kitchen.
She breathed into the fresh air, filling her lungs with the necessary oxygen that he had abandoned from her.
'Are you ok?' The familiar voice of her neighbour greeted her and instantly she spun around, eyeing him down.
'That's the second time I've asked you that, we keep meeting like this.' His voice was shallow, sending chills up her spine. She couldn't deal with him right now, she couldn't deal with him at all, but she stood still, still trying to catch her breath, for she had lost it once more at the sound of his voice.
'Did you see a ghost in there?' Although his words were meant to ease the pollution in the air, his voice said otherwise, it was as though, he was taunting her, making her feel even more uncomfortable than she already felt.
She lowered her gaze, narrowing her eyes, ready to run if she had to, but something caught her attention, something that put her entire existence into numbness.
His bandaged hand.
She had stabbed Blade in the hand with the scissors and here stood Jake, with that same hand, bandaged. She felt sick at the sight of it. Was this him? Was the man standing right in front of her, Blade?
'What.. what, happened.. to your hand?' She felt pathetic at the sound of her own voice. It came out weak and shaky. She didn't want to believe this. She didn't want to believe that the man who had tortured her was the man standing before her, staring right into her eyes and acting like nothing was wrong.
'Cut myself while cooking.' He tilted his head, studying her reaction, although she was only frozen in her place, only stuck immobile.
'The.. cut, was that deep?' She questioned, his whole hand was bandaged, there's no way it was from those cuts from cooking, this cut, it had to be major.
'Very curious, aren't you Lana?' A small smirk slipped past his lips and that's all it took for her chest to tighten around her heart. The way he said her name, the way it rolled off his tongue. She hated it.
Holding her breath, she tried to ignore his presence. Not being sure what to think anymore. It felt like her whole world was closing in on her, her eyes still glued to his bandaged hand.
'It's you.' Her voice was barely a whisper, her heart aching as the words left her mouth.
He watched her carefully, never taking his eyes off of her, the smirk that had covered his face turning into a frown.
'It's you isn't it!' She yelled, her words coming out more clear all the while her grey orbs drowned in the tears that had resided in her eyes.
'It's you!' She whispered this time, her body falling limp right before he caught her, holding her against his solid chest.
'I don't know what you're talking about but you need to calm down.' He whispered into her ear as he stroked her hair. She didn't move, she didn't fight him, she was just tired, drained.
Could the man holding her,
Be the man who,