No matter how many times he closed his eyes and opened them again...the body remained. No matter how many hours he spent pretending it wasn't there...the body remained.
Stuck in his vision like a nightmare at the back of his eyelids, he could hardly contain his fright. Why? Why the hell did he do that? The body had begun to stink horribly. Samuel hadn't been down for, Ashton assumed, days.
The door creaked open and Samuel began walking down the stairs. Ashton's body jumped off the bed and went as close to the stairs as he could without touching the pool of blood on the floor.
"Samuel...Samuel, please! Take me upstairs, I don't want to be down here anymore!" He cried. Samuel made it to the bottom of the steps, trying to move passed him. Ashton quickly wrapped his arms around him, tightly holding on. He shoved his face into Samuel's hard chest.
"Please, please, I'll do anything you want. I'm begging you. I think he looked at me..." He wept into the other man. His shirt was dampened by Ashton's tears. It had been so long since Samuel had come back down the stairs. He hadn't eaten anything. He stole water and juice from the mini fridge just to have a drink. If Samuel went back up, Ashton wasn't sure when he'd come down again.
When he looked up to see his face, Ashton stepped back, shutting his mouth. Samuel's bloodshot brown eyes were blank. His vacant expression was haunting and bleak. He moved around Ashton, going over to a metal table. He pulled two knives off the wall. He scraped them against each other, sharpening the blades. He scraped so hard, sparks flew off. Ashton stood, watching him, one hand gripping his elbow.
"Come here."
Ashton froze. Samuel continued scraping the knives together.
"I said come here."
Shakily, Ashton lowered his head, scuffing his feet up to his captor. Samuel's black hair hung close to his eyes. He looked tired, more so than usual. He reached out and pulled his arm, dragging Ashton closer. He dropped one of the knives, holding Ashton's arm out. He placed the blade a centimeter from his arm, causing the young man to snap his arm back. Samuel looked expectantly, holding his hand out.
"Are you going to cut me?" He asked, holding his arm as Samuel continued to reach his hand out.
"Yes. Give me your hand."
Terror welled up within him, threatening to explode. The promise of pain, even if it wasn't the worst thing Samuel had done to him, made it nearly impossible to follow instructions.
"But..."
"Give me your arm. This is your last warning," he growled. His eyes were darker now. Ashton returned his arm which was slowly taken again. Samuel didn't grip it tightly or keep it. He slid the knife easily over Ashton's forearm, making him jump. Blood moved up into the wound, a small trail trickling down.
Samuel dropped the knife into the ground, grabbing Ashton's shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace.
"Take responsibility for your own behavior. You took juice without asking, and so I punished you. And, because you accepted your punishment graciously, it wasn't so bad. But when you run away...when you attempt to escape taking responsibility is when you burn. Do you understand?"
Ashton felt more confused than ever. Was he actually lecturing him?
"I needed the juice...you haven't been down here," he said, shifting his eyes to the evidence in the form of empty bottles he'd left on the table.
"So what? You still stole from me."
"But...you've locked me up in-"
Samuel shoved Ashton back, still tightly gripping his shoulders.
"You see, you're still being selfish. Focusing on crimes I've committed when it's your time for retribution. Accept responsibility, Ashton."
The young man lowered his head, wrapping his hands around Samuel's waist.
"Okay...I will. Please let me come upstairs," he begged. Samuel sighed heavily, looking up the stairs.
He leaned down to the cuff on Ashton's ankle. Taking a small key from his pocket, he placed it into the small hole and undid the binding. Ashton shook as he did so, trying to look only at him and not the body directly next to them. Samuel stood back up, heading for the stairs.
"You're...not bringing it?" Ashton asked. Samuel stopped, turning around. His eyes seemed somehow even more exhausted and angry.
"Might scuff the floor," he answered simply. He climbed the stairs, opening the door and disappearing behind it. On wobbly legs, Ashton moved slowly up the steps. He shivered as he remembered the sounds of the officer tumbling down. Blood stains were on a few steps and the wall. Samuel could be just at the top...waiting to do the same to him. It seemed never-ending, but eventually, he did make it to the top. He gently pushed the door open, peering nervously into the hallway. He sat, shaking at the top of the steps, not knowing what to do.
"Samuel?" He called. He heard footsteps just on the other side of the door.
"Don't block the hallway," he heard behind the door. Ashton slid himself across the floor, entering the hall. Samuel closed the door to the basement, latching it. Ashton wasn't sure how they would get back in again. It looked like there was just wall now. Though, he had every intention of doing all he could not to go back. Even if it meant sleeping with that lunatic.
"What...what are the rules?" He asked. Samuel looked down at him, seeming amused.
"That's a little presumptuous of you. Is this where you live now? This isn't just an outing? You want to stay up here?" He walked up to Ashton who was still on the floor. He knelt down, pinching his sleeve between his fingers. Sitting on his haunches, he rubbed the cloth, his eyes darkening again.
"You have nothing to offer me. And I don't particularly want a roommate. Not to mention..." He looked down at Ashton's ankle which was free of a bind. He wasn't chained to anything.
"I'll do anything. It smells amazing up here and..." He looked around Samuel's body, seeing a light from the kitchen, "I really want to see the sun again. I'm so tired of being dirty. Please...I'll do anything you want," he pleaded, pushing his face into the other man's chest. He felt fingers comb through his hair. This was the part of their relationship that Ashton didn't understand.
He abused him both physically and emotionally. Yet took comfort in him as well. It didn't make sense. It was almost like Samuel saw him as two different people. One person, he undoubtedly hated. The other person...
"You may not lock any doors. The kitchen is available to you as well as the bathroom. You will sleep in my bedroom and be responsible for keeping yourself clean. This means change your clothes every day and shower twice. And Ashton..."
He leaned in close, holding Ashton's face in his fingers. "Go anywhere near the front door and I'll know. Look," he said, pointing to a camera in the hallway, "there's one in every room. I'll also be installing one in the bathroom. If you go within three feet of the front door, I'll know right away. And you'll be severely punished for it," he said, squeezing Ashton's cheeks. "It would be a shame. You've made such a spectacle of yourself. Don't lose your privileges."
His fingers let go and Samuel stood up, walking into the kitchen.
This was it...he was out? He was finally upstairs. He would be allowed to move about freely, so long as he never left? No more shackles...no more starving?
His stomach growled as the realization he hadn't eaten for some time reared its ugly head. He knew Samuel had basically given him run of the house, but it couldn't have been that simple. He stood, using the wall for support. He felt so weak. He knew he'd lost weight. The picture frames on the walls were reversed, stuck to the wall by glue or tape. It was weird, but not nearly as weird as everything else. Ashton didn't think too hard about it. He struggled to the kitchen, looking carefully in at Samuel who cut vegetables with speed and precision. He lifted the cutting board and scraped the chopped veggies into a hot pan, the sound of the sizzle and smell of the food caused Ashton's mouth to salivate.
"Are you going to slink around the corner like a criminal? This isn't going to work if all you do is annoy me," he said sharply. Ashton swallowed, stepping into the kitchen and sitting at a table in the corner. The sun was setting outside. The smell was captivating. Samuel moved to the fridge, opening it to grab precut chicken. He continued cooking, heating the chicken separately.
Once again, Ashton was amazed at how normal he seemed. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt which hugged his lean, athletic frame. Dark blue jeans rested on his hips. Ashton couldn't understand why he was such a nut job. He looked as though he could have any woman he wanted. Why did he choose to kidnap and keep a man? He supposed everyone had some messed up fantasies.
"Get the soy sauce," Samuel said suddenly. "And the sesame oil."
Ashton nervously rose. He moved to the fridge, opening it and looking inside. Surprisingly, the fridge was packed. More surprisingly, there were many items in the fridge one would normally give to a child.
He scanned the items, eventually finding the soy sauce. He placed it next to Samuel who took it immediately.
"Umm...where do you keep the oil?" He asked quietly. Samuel rolled his shoulders.
"Did you even bother looking?"
"I just...don't want to take too long," he tried to reason.
"The pantry, far left, next to the fridge," he grumbled. The man was getting moody. Ashton didn't want him to change his mind. Dinner smelled so fucking good. He went to the cabinet and searched for the sesame oil, thankfully finding it quickly.
When he walked up to him Samuel stepped back, bumping into Ashton and touching his hand on the hot pan. Ashton fell back, mortified.
"Shit!" Samuel grunted, shoving the pan back on the stove, turning off the heat and storming to the sink. He ran his hand under cold water, visibly fuming. Ashton felt his heart in his throat.
No.
"I...I'm so sorry, Samuel!" He panicked. Samuel shook the water from his hand, moving over to a drawer and grabbing a small packet of ointment.
"Set the table," he instructed, his voice low with thinly concealed rage. Ashton would need to learn the kitchen quickly if he was going to stay up here. He would need to memorize everything.
He moved as nimbly as he could. He tried to settle his shaking as he placed plates across from one another. The last thing he needed to do was break something. Once the table was set, Samuel poured half the pan into one plate, and the rest on the other. So it was going to happen...Ashton would get dinner.
He sat down, a full plate of food, not a random pretzel or block of cheese thrown at him, but a true, actual meal. Would he make him do something crazy for it? Would he even let him eat it? Ashton's eyes kept glancing to the burn on Samuel's hand. His body felt heavy as he sat, waiting.
Samuel sat down, looking through a few papers. Bills, letters...regular things a regular person would be looking at. Ashton couldn't understand. He expected the upstairs to be creepy, just like the downstairs. The only thing freaky about this place was how clean it was.
"Are you going to eat or should I put your hand on a hot pan?" He asked into his papers. Ashton jumped, quickly picking up his fork and eating.
The night went on like that. Ashton quietly stayed in one spot on the couch while Samuel moved about the house. He didn't seem able to sit still.
"Go to bed," Samuel told him. Ashton got up quickly, practically running to the bedroom. His nerves spiked when he remembered the last time they were in bed together. Would Samuel require him do more to be upstairs? Ashton had said he'd do anything. But the idea of being with a man, particularly one who took joy in hurting him, was frankly terrifying.
The bed was spacious and clean, like everything else. Samuel was in the shower and it certainly crossed Ashton's mind to attempt an escape. But it was too soon...too irrational and unplanned. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a small purple bottle. It looked like a perfume bottle. That was strange.
Samuel had sprayed something on him before when he was blindfolded. Was it this? He picked it up and sprayed some on his wrist to check. Smelled familiar. When the bedroom door opened, Ashton felt tense again. Samuel was dripping wet, a towel around his abdomen. He leaned down to his own nightstand, pressing a button on his remote and his television came to life.
"A car was found on the side of the road last night with a family of three still inside. A suspected hit and run, a large branch entered the car through the front windshield, injuring the mother and young child inside. Reports say the mother and little girl perished in the vehicle, the husband who was also injured with a broken leg says, he saw the hit and run driver. However, police have been unable to take any suspects."
That was weird. It sounded familiar. Ashton had thought he heard it before. Samuel turned the TV off, getting into bed. He looked over to his prisoner and inhaled deeply. His sour face and deeply angry eyes softened immediately. Ashton visibly watched his body relax. He pulled the young man against him, pressing his back to his chest. It was the same. Ashton looked at the bottle next to him as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he would start figuring out how to escape.
YOU ARE READING
Replacement
TerrorAshton finds himself trapped in a strange basement with a man who seems to know more about him than he knows about himself. Escape is much easier said than done as this ruthless and frightening man unravels before him.
