poppy
It was quiet when she woke up - disturbingly quiet. But, Poppy liked disturbing and she loved her sleep even more so the sleepy girl allowed herself to be lulled asleep again by the slight sounds of dripping water and creaking walls.
She woke once again when she heard chattering close by. For someone that slept so much, it was frustrating for her that she was such a light sleeper.
Being dragged closer to consciousness made her aware of the cold metal around her wrists and the lack of her cherished puppy Lucifer. This made her angry, angrier still that the mysterious people near her kept talking loudly. How inconsiderate.
Poppy made a sound of obvious annoyance and wiggled deeper into her hard metal chair, clearly telling the people to shut up.
She wondered what she was pricked with in the alley way because it didn't seem to leave her with any funny feelings. She was disgusted, imagining a random homeless man had managed to sneak behind her with a dirty needle.
The stranger kidnapping her just made it easier to find shelter for the next few days. "Free victim transportation," she thought. However, she was extremely disappointed she didn't get her victim of choice. She wondered where the handsome stranger she followed was now and if he was grateful for the lucky escape.
Incoherent mumbles made going back to sleep impossible so she pried her eyes open and lifted her head to glare at the direction of the noise. She deduced that it was a couple men in her proximity, not close enough to see or make out words. Her eyes were met with pure darkness. No light of any sort was offered so she couldn't even determine where she was or how to escape.
Thus, Poppy resorted to staring angrily in front her - unmoving and silent.
She did this for what felt like many hours and many days, ignoring every desperate, pitiful growl that her stomach made.
Even when loud footsteps rattled the creaking wood around her, she didn't flinch. A large shadowed figure stood in front of a now opened door and didn't waste time in strongly walking towards her, while turning on a light on the way.
Once her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, from what she saw she was in a basement of sorts, although the stains on the concrete floor suggested it was used more than to just store broken kitchen appliances.
The man in front of her was dressed in casual black clothes, definitely not ones belonging to a homeless man. He didn't react to her glaring at him and instead went behind her to unlock the cuffs that had rubbed her wrists dry.
Poppy assessed her options. Now her capture was distracted with un-cuffing her, she could kill the man with natural talent, skill and a lot of luck. Or wait until she had a better view of her escape route to perfectly execute a plan of attack. Or the better option, explore the building in search of Lucifer before killing everyone inside to stay in her new shelter forever.
She decided to go for the latter.
She felt herself be dragged roughly to her feet by the elbow but didn't falter her glare at the man, even as she stumbled up the steps and out of the door. Outside of her dungeon, she was met with impressive paintings lining tall walls and moody lighting provided by expensive chandeliers.
"Stop staring at me," the man ordered next to her. It was an older voice with an indistinct accent.
"A boring voice for a boring face," Poppy thought. Her expression only happily changed into one of a tight-lipped eerily realistic smile when her capture tightened his grip on her arm as a warning. She loved getting under people's skin, even if it wasn't with a blade.
YOU ARE READING
Psychotic Little Killer
Romansa"Who knew the face of evil was as adorable as yours." ~ Poppy was a self diagnosed psychopath. She had the voice of an angel and the looks that matched, giving her the appearance of innocence that people wished they had. However, as much as she was...
