Dare to speak?

He's a psychopath.

I think I passed out, all evidence leads to it making it the only logical conclusion. I mean why else would I be laying in satin bed sheets and eyeing the spectacular decor as awake, instead of the backdoors of an unknown van being open.

It takes a moment for me to realise that I might of just lost my last chance to escape and by then I'm standing, fuming-mainly at myself for being so careless. I stomp back and forth at the edge of the bed, momentarly looking down at my hands, trying to figure out whether I want to cry or bang constantly at the locked door into another unconscious state when I'am sudenly pulled by two large hands, wrapping my small frame against theirs, tighting they're grip on my mouth and stomach.

I fight despestly to kick, scratch and budge but, the stranger doesn't give and instead throws me onto the bed and surrounds me, caging me with their arms, stoping me from moving with their body.

They have a muscular bulit, most likely a man... or a woman who used way too many steriod based products but, I'm betting on the first one. I glare at the man's chest refusing to look up, afraid that he might make me want to dig a hole and hide in there forever with whatever unforgetable twisted look this guy has plastered on his idotic face.

It takes more than a few seconds before the guy speaks, only adding on to my fear "Look. As much as I like being in this particular position, I'm going to give you some space but, I swear if you pull anymore of those stunts like you did just now, I'm going to do more than just make you feel uncomfortable." As soon as he spoke I noticed that his voice was deep. Really deep and that it held some nervousness to it but, then it got cocky and that scared me because we all know how the cocky and charismatic kidnappers are psychopaths.

I nod slowly unsure of how my actions might look and afraid that they might angry him. He moves back and sits at the end of the bed just as I slowly sit up. I'm still looking down but, this time at my hands, hoping this is all a joke and my friends are behind this, Sophie would of done this, I mean she's read twilight.

The little hope I had is elimidently destroyed when the man produces a particular icy tone effectly slicing though my train of thought. "Do you know why you are here?" I almost reply but, think better of it and just shake my head. The man chuckles before talking again, "Do you even know who I'am?" Once again I shake my head, I twitch when I feel rough fingers glide underneath my chin and cup my face without my notice, then again the room is dark and the only source of light is that of the moon coming out weakly though the window. He tilts my head upwards and I quickely shut my eyes. "Open your eyes." He says a little too softly for a psychopath.

I do as he says in fear of the consiquences and automatic gasp.

"Oh... shit." I say in recognisiton.

" 'Oh shit' indeed, Ms Frankie Evergreen."

___________________________________________________________________________________

Oooo, who do you think it is?