From the Shadows

Chapter Five

"He dropped you off, I followed him home, then I stood outside his bedroom window. Standing over him, he begged me not to do what I knew I had to do, 'cause I am so in love with you." Good Charlotte- 'My Bloody Valentine'.

Spencer's head hung limply on his neck as he slowly returned to the land of the living. Fragmented memories swam around in his head. He could recall returning home from work to find his apartment door open. I had searched my apartment but never found a soul there. I felt something come down hard on my head. Blood. A needle. Spencer moaned softly, a wave of agony vibrating through his skull. His eyes stung with tiredness. His limbs twitched as he came to. He groggily lifted his head, the muscles in his neck aching. A darkness remained despite peeling open his eyes. Spencer felt a silky type of material brush against the bridge of his nose and cheeks and tickled the back of his neck. A knot pressed into the wound on the back of his head. His mouth felt dry, as though he hadn't drank in days. He swallowed hard and shifted his arms slightly, suddenly becoming aware of the cold metal around his wrists and slicing into his skin. His arms were wrenched behind him and cuffed behind an uncomfortable straight-back wooden chair. He tugged at his bonds to test them but they held strong. Spencer wriggled in his chair to find a more comfortable position; a task made considerably more difficult courtesy of the metal shackles binding his ankles to the front legs of the chair. He caught the scent of eggs being cooked.

"Hello?" called out Spencer, his voice strained. A clattering sounded from somewhere to Spencer's left. His head twisted towards the direction of the sound. "Hello?"

"Ah, Spencer! You're finally awake! You've been out cold for hours," came a female voice. Spencer struggled to piece together his memories, a sensation which was horrifying to him. The voice sounded familiar.

"Wh-who are you? Where am I?" asked Spencer, desperately trying to steady his voice.

"You're silly. Like I'm going to tell you that."

"What do you want with me?"

"You, of course. Just you." Spencer shivered as a hand trailed across cheek, caressing the blindfold before sliding down to his shoulders. The hand slipped under his shirt collar, a thumb dragging across his collar bone over the fabric of his shirt. Spencer grunted as a weight dropped onto his lap. The hands cupped both sides of his jaw, the thumbs softly tracing the curves of his bottom lip. His breaths were disjointed in fear. Her bitter perfume tickled his nose.

"Please... Let me go."

"Now, why would I do that? I finally have you all to myself. No creepy stalkers." Spencer cocked his head in confusion.

"I know you, don't I?"

"I should hope so, Spencer. Oh, god. You have no idea how long I've waited to finally have you. I told you that you look good in handcuffs, and you sure do. You've gotten hotter with age. Like a fine wine."

"Wait... H-how long have you been following me?"

"A very long time, Spencer. Would you like some breakfast? I've just made some scrambled eggs." Spencer recoiled in the seat.

"No! How do I know you won't poison it?" Spencer's skin stung mercilessly as a palm clapped hard against his cheek.

"How dare you! How can I enjoy your company if you're on another planet?" Spencer felt his rage boiling over.

"My company? My company?!" snapped Spencer, "You're a crazy bitch who has me tied up!" The weight lifted from his lap.

"You didn't just say that." The woman spoke in a low and dangerous tone, strained as though it were a taut elastic band, "You didn't..." Spencer felt every muscle fibre tense. He had clearly toed the boundary with this woman. A hand clamped around his throat, forcing the agent's chin up. He made some choking noises, "I think you've said enough, Spencer." The hand released his neck. Spencer gasped and traced the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. He could hear the woman shuffling around, opening and closing drawers.

"What are you doing?" asked Spencer, his voice shaking with fear. Spencer despised not being able to see what was happening around him. The woman's behaviour was eerily similar to that of Tobias Hankle. Spencer struggled against the handcuffs, chain scuffing against the wooden slat that the cuffs were hooked around.

"You don't get to talk now. You're going to be real quiet and think about what you've done."

"I... I don't understand. I haven't done anything. Whoever you are, whatever this is, you need help. I can get you that help." The woman kissed her teeth.

"No, Spencer. It's too late for that." Spencer stilled at the sound of tearing.

"What are you doing?" asked Spencer again in a low voice. He could feel the presence of the woman next to him. His chest rose and fell rapidly. A piece of duct tape was pressed firmly over his lips, stretching across his cheeks. Spencer tried to move away from the offending item. The woman planted her lips on Spencer's gagged mouth, forcing him back into the chair. Spencer twisted and turned to escape the woman's kiss. Fingers curled tightly around his hair, yanking his head back. A new wave of agony blossomed throughout Spencer's skull, causing him to let out muffled groans of pain and protest.

"Go back to sleep, Spencer. You're boring me." Spencer felt the sharp pinch of a needle entering the side of his neck once again. The paralysis quickly cascaded down his limbs and shrouded his mind. With one final grunt, Spencer's head fell forward, his chin colliding with his chest.