Grab N' Go [Robin Arellano]

43: Valentina's World

Valentina is slow to awaken. The first thing she registers is a throbbing pain emitting from both her right eye and shoulder.

She can hear a voice, calling to her.

"Valentina!" He calls.

"Valentina, wake up!" There he goes again.

"Valentina!"

The voice sounds desperate, insistent, and anxious. Her eyebrows furrow together in slight annoyance, groaning in discomfort as the pain from before grows stronger and stronger throughout the effected areas. She can feel someone shaking her shoulders softly now.

"Valentina!"

This time, she's sure she recognizes the voice. It's Vance.

Oh, right, ok then.

Wait.

Her eyes fly open expectantly, but unfortunately she is met with a sad and horrifying reality. The previous soft shakes become far stronger and more careless, and instead of Vance, she's met with the sight of a creepy mask and foreign eyes behind it. The grabber.

"Oooh, Valentina! Wake up!" He playfully sings to her, with an unsettling tone and unnecessary amount of force with his shakes.

She goes to scream, but his hand is quick to cover her mouth, eyes narrowing in a threatening way.

"Don't," he warns her, shifting from his previous playful tone into a sinister growl.

She goes stiff, no longer trying to scream but rather trying to calm her ragged breathing. This is when she takes a moment to review her circumstances.

The room she's in appears to be a bedroom. Nothing special, no mirrors or paintings or decorations. Just four walls and the bed she's laid on. Though she goes to tug her hands forward in self defense, they are caught in place and leave a cold metal sensation stinging her skin. Her hands are cuffed to the two bed posts, and her ankles are tied down on the bottom two.

"Valentina. That's your name right?" He smiles. Or at least, she thinks so. It's hard to tell from behind the frowning mask, but his eyes do light up as if he is.

She shakes her head in denial, eyes wide in horror.

He hums and clicks his tongue three time, "now now, is it really worth lying to me? If it's not your name, then why is it on your mixtape?"

Her confused expression quickly shifts into realization when he holds up a familiar mixtape in his free hand.

"Valentina's World".

Her eyes widen. Her Walkman! That son of a bitch had it.

"I don't much like your taste. Reminds me too much of a boy I once encountered," he hums, eyes going dazed as if he is recounting a memory. "He's gone now."

Immediately, her eyes narrow into a glare. Even terrified, her anger from all the pain he has caused her overcomes her mind. This is not to say she isn't showing her fear in other ways. While she does hold a nasty glare, her body still trembles uncontrollably and her breathing is erratic, deceiving her and ruining her attempt to look brave.

She just looks like a scared little girl to him.

He never could see the appeal of girls. Maybe it was because they were less troubled, less relatable. Or maybe it was because they reminded him of the mother he never had.

Shaking his head, he tucks the mixtape back into his front pocket.

"You really did a number on me, you know that? I mean, stealing that Naughty boy?" again he shakes his head and clicks his tongue. "Then, when you didn't call the police I think that messed me up even more! Just sitting there for days in anticipation. You are quite cruel. Unnecessarily cruel. It's expected...considering you're a woman."

She can't say anything back, but even if she could she isn't sure she would. Not as petrified as she feels.

"I would love to skin you alive, right here and now and go about my usual business," he hums joyfully, and then sighs, "but I can't. My idiot brother knows too much. I think this might be it. It's time to say bye bye to that naughty boy. And after him, it'll be you. When I kill you, it will be my commemoration from killing boys! I'll bury you both in the other house, and then my brother will never know! If it wasn't you, it would've been some other girl. But, when you think about it, you're the perfect girl to murder! After all you took your little boyfriend! Think of it like giving your life for his, yeah?"

His ramble only furthers her terror of him, and she begins to cry. She can't do anything but cry.

"Oh, don't worry," he softly hushes, wiping away at her tears despite her pulling her face away. "I'm merciful. Unlike you. I'm very merciful. I'll allow you and your little friend to say your goodbyes. I can't keep you up here, anyway. Not with my brother staying here. I have to go out and get some supplies. So you have until I get back to say your goodbyes."

It's then that she realizes he's been whispering the entire time. As if to hide from someone else.

She decides to try and scream again, but it comes out muffled and earns a sadistic glare from him that makes her shut right back up.

"If you can't behave, I'll make you," he states, rummaging around beneath him, under the bed while still holding her mouth.

She fights against him, thrashing around harshly crying against his hand as she fears what he may do next. Was he going to kill her? Stab her? What was he getting?

Finally, his hand comes back up with a can. Confused, she stares from it to him.

Next thing she knows, she's being sprayed in the face and mouth. It makes her gasp for air and gag hard. She stirs around desperately, like a fish out of water. Before she can throw up or gag again, she passes out from the lack of air.

Once her body goes fully limp, he quickly un-cuffs her limbs and tosses her over his shoulder. Without wasting any time, he hurriedly rushes through the kitchen and into the basement steps. When the top door closes behind him, he feels slightly reassured to not have woken up Max.

Then, he goes into the basement and sets her body underneath the black phone attached to the wall. The sight of it sends chills down his spine, but he shakes his head and proceeds to bend over and cuff her wrist again, then cuff the other end to the wooden box beneath the bed. Since its attached to the floor, there would be no way she could escape. He continues to reassure himself that.

He can't understand why this puny little girl brings him so much fear. He can't stand it.

"You can have this back," he tells her unconscious body, bending down to place headphones on her ears, and pop her mixtape back into the player. "It really is a shit mix."

With a grimace, he allows his eyes to wander over to the boy laid unconscious on the mattress beside her, rather than on the cold floor like her.

"If only you could've been a good boy," he hums with a wishful tone.

Then, he turns on his heel and travels out the door, latching it closed and leaving the house for what he needs.