A Man of Many Masks || 'The Grabber' x Reader

Eggs

If anyone here is able to read and listen to something at the same time (unlike me) I suggest you listen to a playlist on Spotify called "my friends hate my music" made by "ihatemyfriends". I made the playlist with this book/The Grabber in mind. Maybe I was thinking of Al a bit more than the book- 57

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'Why wouldn't he lock the door? He's kidnapped kids before and I doubt that he would make this big of a mistake. What if it's a trap? Maybe he did just forget to lock it... his body language made it clear that he was feeling a bit scattered or distracted. But again, he's a kidnapper. Maybe he's always like that. He didn't act like that when we first met, though... or was I just too stressed or tired to notice any nervous behavior?'

All of these thoughts were circling your brain as you stared at the open lock, debating whether or not you should open it and try to escape.

'But what if he's up there? Waiting...'

What more could he do to you though? He already captured you. But what if he tried to hurt you for trying to escape?

All of your thoughts were interrupted by your stomach growling. It had been about eighteen hours or more since you last ate. With your stomach rudely cutting off your thoughts, your attention was drawn to the plate of scrambled eggs sitting on the floor.

'What if he's trying to drug me?'

You turned over your options in your head, either you don't eat and just starve to death, or you eat and maybe get drugged.

Deciding that you didn't want to die of starvation, you got up from the uncomfortable mattress and slowly walked towards the tray. Picking it up, you went back to the 'bed' and sat with your legs crossed and the tray in front of you.

The scrambled eggs looked normal... and they smelled normal as well. The masked man didn't give you any silverware, so you just picked up a small piece of the food and—even though you were still a bit unsure of it—ate it. To your relief, they tasted just like normal scrambled eggs.You were extremely hungry, but you were also scared and unsure, leading you to eat at an extremely leisurely pace.

Eventually, you finished the plate, along with the soda that the man had provided you with. Not knowing what to do now, you decided to look around your makeshift cell. Looking around the room you were currently in, you noticed a small window high up on the left wall, but it had a metal grate overtop of it. On the wall behind you, there was a phone just left of the bed. There was a- Wait-

'THERE'S A FUCKING PHONE!'

You were filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and hope at seeing the black phone on the wall, but that hope was short-lived as you started questioning why it was there, and why none of the other victims of this awful man had used it. That's when you noticed the line had been cut. Great.

'Just. Fucking. Lovely.'

Back to your 'exploration' of the small and grim space you were trapped in; on your right you saw a small hallway, you got up and walked towards it. Rounding the corner you saw that it was a bathroom. Kinda- All there was in the small room was a toilet, trashcan, and a few rolls of toilet paper on the floor.

Going back to the main part of the room, you picked up the tray with it's now empty bottle and plate sitting on it and placed it on the floor underneath the pointless phone.

It had been around midnight when you had been taken to this god awful place. You'd woken up a few times when you had initially  fallen asleep. Although you weren't fully awake, only awake enough to see sunlight shining through the one small window in the room. The first time you fully awoke you could see that it was night, meaning you'd slept the entire day. You weren't surprised though, you knew how sleep deprived you were.

Your anxiousness got the best of you, and you started pacing around the desolate room. It has been a good half-hour of just restlessly walking around before your legs eventually got tired, forcing you to sit back down on the mattress. The spot you had been previously sitting in was now cold.

Your attention was once again drawn to the door, or more specifically, the lock. The open lock.

'Well Im already down here, I'm not just going to sit here until... until what? He kills me? ...I need to at least put up a fight.'

With that, I slid off the mattress and made my way to the door.

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Word Count: 758

I almost died trying to rearrange the furniture in my room :)

Btw, let me know if you guys want longer chapters with more time in between publishing them, or short chapters with less time between publishing them?

-Bowie <3