725 Days

Day 2

Warning: This chapter and the next few will contain dark themes that may be difficult to read. This story is not intended to be a dark romance, so if you are seeking that out this is not going to be it, so you may want to look elsewhere. Please remember this is about a serial killer who has no regard for the lives of others. Read at your own risk.

I continue to scream until he storms back to my side streaking the air from my lungs by kicking me in the center of my face.

I feel my lower lip split down the center, blood bubbling to the surface and pooling over and down to my chin. My tongue skims over my teeth surrounded by bleeding gums, but thankfully still in tact. Though, of all the things I should be worrying this is not one.

I hear Annie cough. It is heavy and wet and I can only imagine what that wetness is, but before I could ponder it further fingers grip into my hair and haul me upright screeching.

I try to detangle his digits from the locks of my hair to no avail.

His knee comes up and hammers into the center of my stomach three times and I slump. The need to vomit present. The pain pulsating in the center of my stomach and my lungs and throat trying to relearn how to breath.

He hauls me up with ease and slams me down on the table beside Annie.

Before I could even move, attempt escape, thick ropes wrap around me and around Annie once more. Tying us down together on the table. I struggles in my binds, but Annie just lays there eyes wide and cased with fear as she looks at me.

"There we go my lovelies," our captor says with delight. "Comfy," he asks biting his lip devilishly. "Don't wiggle too much Alanna.  Ask your friend what happens if you squirm to much," he adds with a laugh before and turning his back to me and walking to a work bench across from us.

"Pete, please," I beg causing him to turn back to me hastily.

"My name isn't Pete sweetheart and begging will do you no good. I don't like the blubbering and crying and it will only make it worse for you," before turning back to the bench.

"Why," I croak out, tears erupting from the corner of my eyes.

"Do you not listen," he yells slamming a metal tool on the wooden work bench before stalking towards me, a hammer in his hand.

I scream. Annie stiffens beside me. I can feel her tears falling from her face and onto my bare shoulder in thick droplets.

He stands over me, a crazed look in his eyes when mine eye the nail in his other hand. 

I begin to breath rapidly and heavily at the sight of it. My body convulsing in trembles of utter fear.

He slams the nail down onto me before I can even let out a scream. It slides easily in between my bonds as if he has done this many times before and has perfect aim.  It pierces my skin, just the tip of it embeds a few inches higher than my stomach.

His hammer free hand clamps down on my mouth as I toss under the ropes and scream. I only stop when he raises the hammer above the nail and slams it down.

I scream beneath the hand that is tightly clenching my face. I am sure bruises are forming at this very moment, but all I can feel is the painful throb of a nail buried deep into abdominal fat and muscle.

He looks down at me, squeezing even harder on my jaw as he taunts, "Scream again and there are four more coming your way. Count yourself lucky. Ask your friend what I did to her when she screamed earlier."

He releases my jaw and I turn to my friend who's face is covered in seas of wet tears. I can only assume he meant her fingers, but he quickly grips onto her face as he did mine seconds earlier.

"Show her," he demands as he stares down at her with fiery eyes.

Annie's body trembles, but no sobs escape her mouth as she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue to me.

A bloody hole lies in the center of it. Evidence of a nail being driven through the tender flesh of it and I am almost feel thankful the nail in me is located where it is.

"Good girl," he chides releasing her face and begins to walk back to his bench.

"I'm sorry," she mouths to me.

I reach out to grab her hand, but am met with the bloody stumps of her fingers and recoil back involuntarily causing another wake of trembles and soundless sobs from Annie.

I want to apologize, but I am terrified to speak.

Pete, or whoever he is, hums sweetly at his work bench as I look on trying to determine what he is doing, what his plan for our deaths are.

"Alanna, he calls out sweetly," and turns to face us with a sinister smile. "You have missed so much of the fun."

My eyes turn to his lit cigarette in one hand and hammer in the other. I'm pretty sure I saw him stuff more nails into his pocket when he was at the work bench and my stomach coils into a tight bundle of fear.

His hand begins to lazily trail up from my ankle, up my shin, over my knee cap, and then rests on my thigh momentarily. He gives it a squeeze, his eyes never leaving my wide tear filled ones for a second. I know what is about to come and I fear it almost worse than death.

"Annie was over me all night. She practically asked for it," he says with an evil laugh at the end. "So I gave her what she asked for, but you," his hand begins to move up once more and edges toward the button of my dark denim jeans. "You tried to deny me. Oh, yes you did. And I do not like being denied." He leans over me then, his weight making the table beneath us bend and creak. His body chest lies heavy on top of mine as he bends down and puts his lips against mine. "And when someone denies me something that I want, I take it!" He bites my lip hard, drawing blood at his exclamation at the same moment he unbuttons my pants and forces them down to my knees.

I know this chapter ended very dark, but this story is meant to me a dark story. It is not intended to be a dark romance. It is about a serial killer who has no regard for others who's story is being told from one of the girls he holds captive. Please know going forward it will continue to be dark, so it may not be everyone's cup of tea.

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