725 Days

Day 3

"You just tasted So. Much. Sweeter," he cooed in my ear as he lays beside on the cool basement floor. I don't remember how I got here. Only the rage in his eyes when I head butted him as he hit my own head over and over against the table until I blacked out.

"Fear is sweet like Skittles and sunshine," he sang. "And your fear is like steroids for me." His tongue working its way of my sweat dampened neck until it reached my jaw causing me to shudder and whimper beside him.

"Shh, Shh, shh," he comforted as he wipes away a tear that had begun to trail down my already tear drenched face. "None of that fussing. I don't like fussing. It's unattractive, demeaning, and weak, and will only want to make me kill you faster. Remember what happened to your friend love?"

I closed my eyes to keep from crying though my breathes escaping my nose and mouth were still ragged and loud.

Of course I remembered. He mutilated her and made me watch. My best friend was gone.

He got off the floor beside me and sighed. "You got to live...for now that is. What are you crying for? You should be happy," he lamented shaking his head in frustration, before turning to me with dark eyes. "If you want to be this upset I can kill you now too. Release you from your pain and fear?"

I sat up quickly back against the wall cause my head to pulse in pain   "No," raced from my mouth. "No, no, please no," I begged.

He chuckled and walked over to the sink basin and turned on the tap.

He pulled off his bloody shirt in one swift motion revealing a refined landscape of taught muscle and threw the shirt in the sink.

"Let's make a deal," he said his voice that of twisted amusement as he turned back to me. "If you can get the blood out of my shirt you live. If you can't, you die?  How fun!  I love a challenge, don't you?"

I felt my heart still in my chest before regaining its vicious pump that rose and thundered in my already pulsating head.

"Come here my dear. I sighed right this moment, if you want any chance of living," he said beckoning me towards him with his hand.

I stood up with shaky legs, a baby deer learning how to walk and crept towards him.

When I was within distance, he grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward and placed my hand under the freezing stream of water.

Some blood had begun to withdraw from the shirt, swirling together in rippled circles to the drain, but there was no way I would be able to rid this shirt of the blood that soaked through its fibers.

He pressed his back against me and toyed with the blood tinged hair with on my shoulder as he taunted a whisper slowly into my ear, "Do you think it can be done," he asked a smile clearly embedded in his words. "You are so lucky, my dear to have had a friend with you.  She died for you my dear. Will you let her death be in vain? Or will you work your hardest to stay alive?"

Without hesitation I took the shirt and wring it out in the tub of the sink letting the blood and water mixture cascade down it like a waterfall. A sponge sat on the edge and I hurriedly grabbed it and scrubbed at the sleeve of the shirt to no avail. Even if it was no longer crimson red a pale blotch remained in the spot I scrubbed.

"C-can I-I ha-have s-some soap or b-b-bleach, p-please," I stammered as I wrung it out again. 

He laughed and pulled the shirt from my hands and threw it at the wall. It's wet fabric making a sickening slap as it did.

"Sweetheart, the shirt is a lost cause, as are you. Death is coming and no soap, no clean shirt will be what saves you, you foolish girl," he said his eyes wide and crazy.

I was at a loss for words. His words were the truth. He would kill me, if I did nothing, I was sure of it, but how could I prolong it until I could find a way out.

The sponge was still in my hand and I placed on his chest, smearing the blood with the water soaked sponge.

His hand came up and snatched my wrist. "What do you think you are doing?" He roared gripping my wrist with such intensity that I thought it would snap like a twig.

"Yo-you're filthy," I stammered. "I w-was trying to h-help clean you off?  I'll d-do anything y-you want. Please just let me go. P-please.

His free hand came up and slapped me across the face so hard I felt it's burn before his fingers even left my cheek. My body staggered backward from the force of it.

"You do not get to touch me, not unless I say, understand," he barked dropping my wrist.

My hand clutched my cheek as I back away from him trying to retreat to the edge of wall I was against when I awoke.

He charged at me shoving me harshly into the wall, my head smacking against its cement bricks only adding to the pain I already felt.

"You know," he began devilishly, anger glinting in between his words. "I wanted you that night. If your friend would've just walked away she'd be alive, but you my dear would be in her shoes so to speak. I guess that makes you lucky, for now Alanna, but how lucky are you really?  You see, when I saw you that night all I could do was picture you underneath me as cut into that soft supple flesh as I thrust into you. Do you feel how that excites me, Alanna," he asked pushing the bulge of his pelvis against me making me squeak in fear. 

His hand gripped my neck and my hands flew to try to pry his off.

"Ah ah ah," he chided squeezing tightly. "I get what I want Alanna. I always do. Your friend may have stopped my pursuit of you last night but I always get what I want, do you understand?"

I nod vigorously.

"Good girl, fast learner, I like it," he said releasing my neck. I took a deep gulp of air and caressed my neck with my hands.

"I'll make you regret your words. Anything you say," he says and bites his list devilishly as he leans in close to my lips. He leans forward and bites my lower lip hard. I pull away from his savage attack. Blood seeps from the inside of my lip from the force of it.

He laughs a deep rumbling chuckle. "You'll wish anything never was in your vocabulary, Alanna," he laughs and winks at me as he walks towards a wooden staircase, leaving me shaking with fear.

"Twenty-five days," he calls out to me as he walked to the stairs.

I was scared to answer, but I was scared not to answer, scared of his wrath coming down on me once more.

"What," I called back the question rising sharply at the end of the word.

"The longest anyone has lasted," he replied as he began his ascent up the stairs. "The longest anyone has lasted with me is twenty-five days before I grew bored of them, before they became useless, before my itch to kill them came along and overpowered it all. How long will you last, Alanna?"

The door slammed shut and locks slid into place leaving me to wonder how long I truly would be able to last.

It's been a while! Sorry for the delay. My life is a mess lately.

What do you think? Will Alanna survive or will she befall the fate of the rest?

Make sure to comment, vote, and share!!