Knife's Property

T W E N T Y - O N E

In true classic horror fashion, the basement we are held in has a leak coming from the ceiling in the corner. The room is in darkness, a slight hue of light covers certain areas where the brickwork is patchy and the light from the outside hallway filters through but other than that, darkness.

The blindfold they put over my eyes before they left us here miraculously fell down not long after they left. The thought of being left with that over my eyes for hours makes my skin feel itchy.

I try to breathe through the panic of it around me and wait for my eyes to adjust so that I don't feel like I'm being kept in a small, small box without any room to go anywhere because that's exactly how I feel right now.

I imagine Knife and how he would handle this situation to make sure I'm comfortable. First, he would kill the guys who took us, or most of them anyways. He's always been very good at seeing a situation, and seeing who has caused the most harm and deserves to be tortured slowly rather than mercifully killed right away like the other clones.

I imagine him breaking down the doors, some object of comfort for me in his arms and his knife in the other that he'll use to slash everyone down. How he'll bundle me up in his arms and take me away from all of this and back to our home where we can curl up together and heal from our time apart.

God, once I'm back in his arms I'll never take him for granted again. I will appreciate every little crazy thing he does that drives me crazy with how crazy and possessive he is but deep down I know it's how he shows me he loves me.

Because I am truly the only person that man actually cares for and that is terrifying. It's terrifying to be the centre of someone's world who won't flinch at the sight of a maimed body, who most likely caused the wounds on the body and who has no qualms with murdering numerous people everyday.

But hey, no more complaints from me, because as soon as I see him and feel his solid warmth beneath me, I will happily do whatever he says.

Bastard probably knows it as well. He's probably torturing some man while he thinks about how grateful I'll be when I see him and just exactly how much he can tighten his cage around me until I start to get a little stir crazy.

God only knows what Kyle is going to be like with Lana.

I can't see her, the chair they've put us in has a high side so I can't see anything to either side of me, including Lana. I can hear her though, her quiet whimpers and sniffles. It breaks my heart but also increases my fear.

Knife is a psychopath who feeds off of torturing people and drawing out their pain. Kyle is a crazed maniac who likes to see people's insides being squished out of their body by his bat.

Despite what they've done, I feel a twinge of dread for the men who have taken us. They're only acting on their orders, and one of them even stopped Waterboy from hurting me some more. They don't seem to realise the true severity of their situation.

There's a sudden rush of noise outside of the door, the sound of men laughing and greeting one another like old friends. I strain to make out what they're saying but the door is too thick and their voices are too deep to properly hear what is being discussed.

There's the dull sound of smacking each other on the back and then loud laughter that instantly sets my nerves into high gear. Laughing evil men who are greeting each other like long time friends who haven't seen each other in a while with two females tied up in the other room is never a good thing.

There's some more conversation, a serious tone envelops their talk momentarily before they're laughing again and walking closer and closer to the door of the basement. I'm tense, taking more deep breaths and preparing myself for whatever is going to walk through the door.