Stranger's Call

Part Three

Time moved slowly in the confines of the cell. Annie stared at the void of blackness in front of her without a word. Her mind worked instead, thinking of the young girl trapped as she had been. She knew exactly what he was doing to her, she had already gone through it all. There was no way to prepare for the horrors of having your body opened and stitched back together with nothing to stop the diabolical pain that came from it. There was nothing to say to drive the hours, days, weeks of cuts that ran along her entire body, feeling the bumps and lines of the stitches unhealed. Or the terror of waking with fogged or almost entirely black out moments just to avoid sinkiing into desparate desire to die. To end her already. 

How close she had been to beg to him to end her torture. Before the last struggle, her last hurrah you might say. The call and that young girl in the other room had changed everything for her. 

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Sorting through the file of his current case, the kidnapper knocked the notebook he’d just finished writing an entry into, to the floor. Annoyed, he bent down and pulled the open book up, staring at the page it had opened to for a second. A few figures and several numbers of merit. As he noticed them, he placed a hand tentatively within his hoodie. He’d kept the clothing from his last round with the subject without thought, as he dove into his work to distract his little spat with her. 

It had been some time since any of the patients had managed to catch him off guard. The thought was sickening to think that a child could outwit him! His hand momentarily searched inside one of the pockets, nothing within but his knife. He searched the other with a little more speed and an ill desire to scream. He held the yell within him, as he rose, searching his pockets and then, when nothing came from them he threw himself into the office. Throwing the chair to the ground he searched the drawers. 

There is no way I have lost that mobile! I just made that call to… he paused midthought and stared across at ceiling. He rushed out of the office and up to the holding place where the girl was being kept. He paused only once to shuffle through the one room filled with goods, ensuring that he hadn’t dropped it in the room on his way to the patient. When he found nothing after a ten minutes search, he ran down the hall and into the cell, glaring across at the girl. Her round eyes reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights. She screamed as he lunged at her. 

The phone flew from her hands, sailing across the room. He ignored it as he knocked her to the ground, not even attempting to be gentle. He punched her several times in the face. Her lip busted open, blood on his knuckles. She fell to the ground, unable to move or struggle much thanks to the chain around her ankle. Then he grabbed her by the throat, squeezing until she passed out, but stopping only because he knew he could not kill her. She laid still as he searched her bodily for anything she should not have. When he came up with nothing he rose from his knees. He left her on the floor, unconscious. He swept the room for anything else that she might have stolen from him without his notice, as he picked the phone from the floor. Then, walked out of the cell, throwing her cell door closed with some force. 

He lifted the phone to his face, a singular crack ran down the screen and he held down his yell, until he thumbed through recently made calls and found the name Megan C. Fucking Bitch!!! He allowed the cry of rage vibrate across the hall. 

Quickly he pressed key 3 on his phone. He inhaled sharply pulling himself back together for the moment's conversation.

“Yeah?”

“Grab her, now.” 

A short pause before the words, “Right. Got it.” Before the line was cut short.