Replacement

Chapter 3

Lights had come on...when had that happened?
          Ashton's eyes were foggy.  He glanced to the side, his entire body numb.  He turned his head to see Samuel sitting casually sipping tea with a book.  Ashton blinked.
          "Has it...been two days yet?" He asked, having to use force to get any sound out of his parched throat.
          "Ten hours," Samuel answered without looking at him.  Ashton instantly felt tears in his eyes.  The absolute brick that fell onto his spirit with those words was immense.  He felt utterly crushed.
          "But...seriously?  It's felt like so long...there's no way..." He wept.  Samuel licked his finger, flipping the page to his book.
          "Calm down, weepy, you surpassed twenty four hours three hours ago," he said into his book.  Sitting on the table next to him were two plates with something amazing, by the smell and a water bottle.
          Ashton's eyes widened.  He stared silently at Samuel who glanced up, his dark eyes deep and almost thoughtful.
          "Something you'd like to say?" He asked in a soft voice.  Ashton wasn't sure what to say.  What should he say?  It was time.  He could hardly move, but if he said the wrong thing, would he be beaten again?  Would Samuel add time?  Would he throw the food at him? 
          "Umm...could you please...take the cuffs off?" He asked, the tears still flowing.  Samuel looked back down at his book. 
          "Yeah, yeah, one more minute.  I like this part," he said.  Ashton felt something well up inside him.  He couldn't feel his fingers or hands.  The hunger pains had gone away after a while, but the thirst...he absolutely needed water.  The condensation from the cold water bottle dripped down its side.  Ashton watched it slowly trickle down the plastic.  He wanted to scream.  He wanted to go ballistic on this monster for making him wait longer.
          After another moment of silence, Samuel stood up, placing his book down in his chair.  He took a knife and fork from the table, placing it on a plate and setting it in front of Ashton.  He moved around to his hands, undoing the cuffs.  Blood had caused them to stick to his skin, so removal hurt a bit.  Ashton strained to sit up.  A water bottle was placed in front of him as well.  Samuel sat back at his table beside the bed. 
          Ashton looked down to the knife he'd been given.  He looked back up to Samuel and took a breath.  How hard would it be?  Could he do it?  He was sitting so close.  He could get up.  He could leave the disgusting bed and jab it into him a few times.  Bam, he'd be free. 
          Samuel glanced at him and Ashton's bravery vanished completely.  No.  He'd lose his privilege if he failed.  Ashton made for the water first, his hands barely able to squeeze around the top.  He tried cracking it open, his hands unable to summon the strength.
          "Samuel...please help me," he asked, holding the bottle out to him.  His captor sighed, standing up. 
          "Useless," he muttered.  He stood up, taking the bottle and opening the lid.  To Ashton's surprise, he handed it right back without dumping it on him.  With shaking hands, Ashton brought the cold liquid to his lips, drinking as much as he could stomach.  Samuel watched him with a bored expression.
          Ashton looked at his plate.  A slab of some sort of meat rested delicately, dripping and steaming. 
          "What's that?" He asked.  Samuel cut into his own dinner, placing it into his mouth.
          "Meat," he said simply.  Ashton looked at it again.  The delicious smell seeped into his senses, beckoning him.  But the idea that he might not be staring at a slice of pork made him sick to his stomach. 
          "What...kind?"
          "You're awfully choosey for someone whose begging.  What does it matter?  You're lucky I bothered not only cooking it, but seasoning it.  Eat it," Samuel instructed with a little more malice than before.  He was getting irritated.  Ashton swallowed, picking up his fork with a lot of difficulty.
          "It's just...I'm worried about where it came from," he muttered.  Samuel scraped his nail between his front teeth.
          "You watched me cut it.  Doesn't get much fresher than that.  You really think the worst of me, don't you?" He asked, taking another bite.
          "I saw a carcass.  I didn't know what it was."
          Samuel stood up quickly, closing the distance between them and holding Ashton's face roughly inches from his own.
          "It's a big.  Fat.  Pig."
          Ashton stared at the fury in his eyes.  He'd become so enraged.
          "It's not...you said I was a replacement..." He whimpered.  Samuel regarded him for a moment, rubbing his thumb across his captive's bottom lip.
          "That's disgusting.  What a piece of shit, assuming something like that of me.  I've done nothing but be kind and generous tonight and you would think I would try and feed you human meat?  How wretched.  You'd better eat that now before I shove it down your throat."
          Ashton nodded quickly, picking up the knife.  His fingers and wrists quivered as he put as much effort into cutting his food as he could.  Samuel glared angrily.
          "Need more help?" He growled.  Ashton turned away, holding his arms at his sides.
          "Un-fucking-believable," he snarled, grabbing the plate quickly.  He dropped it heavily onto his table, quickly cutting the meat for him.  Ashton watched the veins in his arms pulse.  His eyes were shadowed and angry.  He tossed the plate back at Ashton who shielded his face.
          "Eat, before that plate goes through your teeth," he threatened.  The young man did so, quickly.  He tried holding back tears, chewing the admittedly amazing food as best he could.  Thank goodness...it tasted like pork.
          Mouth full, he glanced hesitantly over to Samuel who sat back down in his chair.  His gaze was to the ceiling, but his hand pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly in an attempt to calm down. 
          "Samuel..." He mumbled after swallowing.  "I'm sorry...I upset you.  It's just my hands -"
          "I really hate you..." He whispered. 
          Ashton stared at him with wide eyes.  He hated him?  Surely he wasn't that angry about helping him.  Was he a child?
          "You hate me?" Ashton repeated. 
          Before saying anything else, Samuel stood, moving over to a wall.  He reached for one of the chains hanging from the ceiling and removed the hook, tossing the chains over to the bed.  He then opened a large drawer, rummaging around for something.  Apparently not finding it, he slammed the drawer shut, going over to the bed.  Ashton felt goose bumps on his body as Samuel approached.  His captor took hold of one of the handcuffs and removed it from the bedframe. 
          "Come here," he instructed, holding the cuff.  Ashton looked at them for a moment.  He didn't want the handcuffs.  Samuel had said he didn't have to wear them.  But if he fought...if he argued...
          He slid forward reaching his hand out.  Samuel tapped it with the back of his hand.
          "Your foot," he said.  Ashton slid his leg towards him and Samuel attached the cuff to his ankle, pulling on the chain to test durability.  He attached the other end to the bedframe.  
          "Stand up and walk as far as you can in that direction."
          Ashton did as he was told.  Holding the sides of his arms, he walked as far as the chain allowed.
          "Now walk wide as far as you can."
          Again, Ashton obeyed.  He walked around the room, the chain dragging as he did so.  Samuel stood, taking the key for the cuffs and placing it high on a shelf, quite a ways out of Ashton's reach.  His hand stayed at the top of the shelf for a moment, looking at Ashton with a smirk before placing his hand in his pocket. 
          "Don't get any funny ideas.  Remember," he pointed to the camera in the room, "I can see everything you do," he warned. 
          A red light was flashing on the camera.
          "Ahh, memory full?" He said, going over to the camera and reaching into it.  He pulled out the memory card, placing it in his pocket and replacing it.  That hadn't been the first time Ashton had seen him do that.
          "I need to go.  I'll be back later to rinse you off.  You stink again," he said in a bored droll.  He gathered the dishes and silverware, moving to the stairs. 
          "Umm...Samuel?" Ashton called up before he left. The man stopped moving, but didn't look at him.
          "Could I...have some clothes?" He asked.  He had to ask.  It would be so wonderful to finally put something on.
          "As tired as I'm getting looking at your naked body, clothes are for people.  And you haven't proven to me that you can be people yet," he answered.  He opened the door and shut it loudly.  Ashton stared at the door for a moment.  He'd left the light on.
          He looked over to the chair where he had been sitting.  Just next to it on the table was the book he'd been reading. 
          Ashton felt his body get light with excitement.  Something to occupy his mind?  He could reach it easily and Samuel had left the light on.
          As he looked at the book, his body trembled.  What if he wasn't allowed?  It was Samuel's book.  His personal belonging.  He'd gotten angry about small stuff already.
          He glanced to the camera.  It wasn't a security camera.  Likely for Samuel's own benefit, but that did mean the memory would run out sooner or later and need to be replaced.  Why did he always keep it on?  Did he have a kink for watching Ashton lay naked and do nothing?  He was an absolute enigma. 
          He got up off the bed, moving slowly towards the book.  His heart hammered in his chest as he reached out.  If he didn't take a look now, Samuel might come down and take it again, leaving him without it.  Then again, he might have not had enough hands to take it with the dishes and would be right back down.  If he caught Ashton touching it...
          He decided to wait.  He moved about the room, seeing what objects he could reach.  He was just barely able to reach the drain.  Although he hadn't had the urge to go for a while, he tried now, happy to be able to relieve himself without help.

*****

          The light being on was both a blessing and a curse.  It was so bright, he couldn't sleep well.  He hadn't known the time of day since he arrived, but he tried to memorize Samuel's footsteps.  When he heard faint movement, it meant Samuel was home, so it was night time.  He always left for a few hours during the day, Ashton assumed for work.  But the footsteps hardly ever stopped.  They went still for a little bit, but then picked up again.  Samuel apparently didn't sleep well.
          Now and again, he could hear water running through the pipes.  When it lasted a few seconds, it meant the toilet.  If longer, the shower.  Samuel took two to three showers a day. 
          He couldn't hear much else.  He never had other people over, from what Ashton could gather.  He wondered what the upstairs looked like.  Did he have creepy effigies hanging around?  Did he live in squalor?  Judging by how organized the basement was, Ashton highly doubted that.
          There was a strange black box at the side of the room.  It had taken several days, but Ashton finally gathered the nerve to look at it.  The chain dragged as he lugged the heavy bind across the room.  He knelt down, nervously touching the box.  A strange feeling came over him when he noticed it could be opened.
          "It's...a mini fridge..." He breathed.  He opened the door and cool air flowed out easily.  Several drinks huddled together from soda to juice as well as some water bottles. 
          The apple juice in particular grabbed his attention.  He stared, unable to look away.  Footsteps upstairs made him jump.  He quickly closed the fridge, running back to the bed.  He'd spent the last few days pacing and reading the labels on the many metal objects on the walls.  He still hadn't touched the book, though the thought crossed his mind every second.  His skin pricked nervously as the door opened.  Heavy footsteps stomped down the steps. 
          A large deer was hanging over his shoulder, dead.  Without looking at Ashton, he turned the animal upside down, hanging it on hooks.  He took a sharp knife from the wall, throwing a bucket under the body.  He sliced down the center of the body, removing the entrails.  Ashton watched as he expertly cleaned the animal.  He clicked on the stereo and the same song played on repeat, as it always did.  As if Ashton didn't already hate that song.
          Despite the morbid nature of his work, Ashton truly enjoyed watching Samuel at work.  It almost made him seem like a regular person. 
          When he was done, he turned off the stereo, walking over to Ashton.  He pulled nail clippers out of his pocket, gesturing for him to get closer.  Ashton felt worried whenever he was quiet.  He hardly mistreated him while he was not talkative, but it usually meant he was in a bad mood.  He often got special privileges during these times simply due to Samuel not wanting to deal with him.  But this mood seemed different.  This wasn't bad, but it wasn't exactly a good mood either.
          "Samuel?" Ashton asked quietly as his hand was taken, his nails clipped absently.  "I was wondering if I could have clothes now?  It gets pretty cold at night.  Even just a blanket..."
          "Sure."
          Ashton's jaw dropped.  Sure?  There was no arguing or torment?  He was in a very strange mood indeed. 
          After his nails were trimmed, Samuel stood and walked back up the stairs.  When he came back down, he brought several articles of clothing as well as a blindfold.  Slowly, Samuel wrapped the cloth around Ashton's face, covering his eyes. 
          "Keep this on.  If it slides off, you'll be punished," Samuel said easily.  Ashton had become quite used to Samuel's touch, gentle or aggressive.  Often, he'd felt so starved for human contact that any touch from him felt soothing.  He felt Samuel spray something onto his skin.  After, his fingers were only gentle and could almost be considered loving.  But that was ridiculous.
          He felt a shirt go over his head.  It was a soft cotton.  Sweatpants as well slid onto his legs.  The feeling of finally being clothed after so long placed him in such wondrous contentment.  Samuel took the chain from his ankle and lead him somewhere. 
          "Step," his voice was a whisper into his ear.  Ashton swallowed hard, taking a step.  Was he going...upstairs?
          Each step was troublesome without being able to see.  But he didn't want to anger Samuel into changing his mind, so he followed every direction perfectly.  After a moment, he heard the door open.  Samuel lead him into what was definitely his house.  The warmth made Ashton excited.  It smelled clean.  It felt warm.  Another few minutes and Ashton was lifted onto what felt like another bed. 
          Samuel moved him to one side with his body, laying him down.  Why was he treating him like this?  Why was he acting this way?
          His smell was all around.  He didn't mind it, even if he was a man.  Anything was better than the smell he'd endured thus far.  He inwardly shivered at the idea that he had to cozy up to a psycho in order to be comfortable, but he'd do anything to get out of that damn basement even for a few minutes. 
          A blanket was thrown over him and Samuel's arms held his sides tightly.  He buried his face into Ashton's neck and sighed.  Bile threatened to rise up Ashton's throat, but he ignored it. 
          What the hell was this?  He couldn't figure it out.  But he was sure not to move.  He was sure not to spoil it.  One false move or noise and he would be back in the basement with a very angry Samuel.  He would stay still.  He would stay quiet.  The aching in his wrists were almost gone.  He was restrained only by the terrifying grasp of this man.  Ashton knew he didn't sleep heavily, so escape was impossible. 
          He yawned quietly, trying to relax into the man who held him hostage.  It was wrong.  But when else would he ever get this?  When else would he be treated like a person?