Just Like Animals

№ 5

Chris ended up sleeping on the couch, waking up every few hours to tend to the fire and check on Ricky.  Meanwhile, Ricky spent the whole night tossing and turning, dozing a bit here and there. 

Being all alone in the basement felt so safe.  If Chris wanted to hurt him while he slept, he would have to come downstairs and the footsteps on the stairs would wake him.

After what Ricky saw, Chris' presence was incredibly uncomfortable.  He felt as though if he fell asleep for even a second too long, Chris could creep up on him and do something nefarious.

It was when the sun started to rise that a sense of dread set in.  Another full day had past, a new one starting, and Ricky was still stuck in the same place with nothing to do. 

Chris was still asleep, so he got up as quietly as possible, roaming around as much as the chain would allow.  He could just barely reach the coffee table, but he managed to grab a few books off of it, taking them back to his blankets.

He laid there and read for a bit, not really loving the halfbaked mystery novel but appreciating the distraction it provided him. 

"Did you sleep at all?" Chris asked when he woke up and saw Ricky was already awake. Ricky nodded, dog-earing the book page he was on and getting up, moving to the side so Chris could tend to the fire again.

Taking the hint, Chris got up. "So you're one of those people, huh?" He mumbled, groaning as he put on a pair of work gloves and kneeled down by the hearth.

"A murder? No that's you." Ricky retorted, watching as Chris added more logs and stirred the embers. Chris paused for a moment, just staring into the flames.

Chris took a deep breath, "I meant you dog-ear book pages." He sighed, pulling his gloves off and tossing them down before standing.  He stood by the couch, folding his blankets neatly and stacking them in case he had to spend another night in the den.

After a moment of silence, Ricky worked up the courage to respond.  "Usually I would use a book mark." He admitted meekly, able to tell Chris was frustrated and not wanting to get on his bad side.

Chris picked a paperclip up off the table and tossed it to Ricky without glancing at him, let alone making eye contact before promptly leaving the room.

Ricky got cozied up again, picking his book back up and trying to get back into the story.  There was a small pang of guilt that distracted him, making it almost impossible to focus. 

The house was painfully quiet all morning, Ricky eventually hearing a door slam.  He couldn't tell if someone had come in or if Chris had left, so he called out a few times, getting no response. 

Being all alone scared Ricky.  If there was a house fire, he was trapped. If he needed to use the bathroom, there was no way to get there.  If he was hungry, he couldn't even get himself something to eat.

Hours and hours passed, the door eventually slamming again.  Ricky was nearly shaking with anxiety as he stood up, wringing his hands as he waited for Chris. 

He could hear some footsteps, Chris eventually poking his head into the room. "I got us dinner. Power should be back on soon too." He told Ricky, holding up a plastic bag containing the take out.

Ricky sunk down to his knees, waiting patiently.  Chris returned to the living room a few minutes later, a bowl in each hand.  He handed one to Ricky, also giving him a fork before sitting down on the sofa.  It was some sort of pasta in sauce with some vegetables mixed in, but Ricky still picked through it, making sure there was no hidden meat.

They ate in silence, Ricky being grateful for the tasty meal filling his belly.  When they had both finished, Chris took their dirty dishes to the sink.  Being all alone gave Ricky the little bit of gaul he needed to speak up.

"So where did you go?" He wondered, playing with his hands. Before he could get an answer, there was a little flicker and the lights came on, a few things whirling or buzzing as they started where they left off.

Chris poked his head into the den, "Doing things." He stated.  "Would you like to shower? Or use the bathroom?" He offered. Ricky knew by the way Chris paused, "doing things" meant both "none of your business" and "you know what I was doing".  He thought a moment about the options, responding with a meek nod.

He waited patiently for Chris to tidy thing up in the kitchen and get the key to the padlock.  With a firm grip on the chain, Chris released Ricky, walking him through the kitchen and upstairs to where there was a bathroom with a shower.

"Go pee, undress, get in the shower." Chris instructed.  Ricky listened obediently, watching as Chris tethered him to the radiator and left, shutting the door most of the way.

Above the toilet was a small window, probably just big enough for Ricky to shimmy through.  He stared at it as he relieved himself, weighing his chances of escaping.  He was almost certain he could get out, but then what.  Either he'd break the radiator and then his legs as he fell two stories, or he'd hang there by his neck, swinging in the bitter winter breeze.  If there was a single neighbor within a hundred yards, maybe he would have a chance, maybe someone would find him, but the isolation killed any chances of that.

Chris knocked at the door, cracking it open just enough that he could hand off the clean clothes he had gathered for Ricky. "Hurry up." He insisted, being a bit tired and grungy from his activities and just wanting to sleep off the day.

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