Fatal Infatuation [18+] DISCONTINUED

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(Evelyn's POV)

I stirred myself awake, my body aching and my vision blurry. After adjusting my eyes, and blinking a few times, I began taking note of my surroundings. I was in a large, cold room. The ceiling, floor, and walls, were all a rocky concrete, and there was a single chair in the corner that was stained with dried blood and.... Chunks of flesh? 

When I laid my eyes on the gorey mess in front of me, I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't. I was so exhausted, my eyes barely moved as I looked at the room. There was an empty wooden table with dents and hand prints all over it, and the whole room smelled heavily of bleach and cleaning supplies. There was a large metallic safe of some sort near the table, with a shining lock on it. The walls were empty and there were poles in several places that were welded onto the floor and reached the ceiling. 

I was propped up against the wall, my ankles and wrists bound by rope, digging into my skin. I winced in pain and my wince must've been too loud because the door in front of the stairs opened, revealing an excited looking Roman. 

He nearly ran towards me, holding a glass of water and a plate of food in his other hand. "Good morning!" He exclaimed, crouching down to my level and placing the plate and glass in front of me. 

"I don't want anything." I replied, my voice raspy from dehydration and exhaustion. 

He sighed and rested his chin on his palm as he stared at me, "You're going to need the energy. Come on."

He gripped my chin with one hand and picked up the cup with the other, gently prying my mouth open. I parted my lips and he placed the rim of the glass against them, tilting the glass to make the water enter my mouth. Once I felt the cold, refreshing liquid hit my tongue, I immediately opened my mouth wider to allow more of it to come in. I swallowed deeply, allowing it to pour down my throat. He grinned at my reaction and took his hand off of my chin, watching me drink. 

Once the water was finished, he pulled it away from me and placed it back on the floor. He used his fingers to wipe the water droplets from my lips and chin, and then stopped to look at me again. I stared back at him awkwardly, and I felt like he was staring into my soul. 

He stepped away from me slowly and his eyes widened in realization, "Oh, I have a surprise for you. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I couldn't." 

Anxiety grew in me as I anticipated his surprise. 'Is he going to kill me now?' I thought to myself as I watched him rummage through the steel safe. Suddenly, he hummed in delight and I heard something heavy thump against the floor, followed by a quiet "Ow." 

I watched him struggle to contain the person behind his back as he approached me, a manic grin on his face. "Rabbit, meet pig!" 

He threw out in front of me a nearly unrecognizable figure. "Mateo?" I muttered, lowering my head to look at him. He turned his head around weakly and his eyes widened at the sight of me. He looked awful, even more awful than the picture depicted him. He was far skinnier than usual, his skin was pale and lifeless, his eyes were dull, his face was bruised and beaten, his body even worse. He could barely move, schleping around on his knees. 

"What is she doing here?" He sputtered out, trying his hardest to sit up. He could hardly look at me, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from him. 

Roman stood back and watched the encounter with his fingers entwined, looking between us like he was sickly proud of his creation. He pulled something out of his pocket and twirled it between his fingers, approaching me. I watched him with an uncomfortable expression as he crouched down to me again. He pulled my arms out in front of me and used the knife to cut through the rope tied around my wrists, and his hands cupped my own once my wrists were free. He placed the knife in my hands and released me from his grip. 

"If you could kill any person in here, who would it be?" He asked, tilting his head. "Probably Mateo, right?" 

I looked at him incredulously. He kidnapped me, and he thought I would rather kill one of his other victims than him? 

"I'm not hurting Mateo." I grumbled, setting the knife down.

He sighed dramatically and pulled something else out of his back pocket, "I thought you would say that. Luckily, you have a motive." 

"A motive?" I furrowed my eyebrows as he held the phone out in front of me. The phone, which presumably belonged to Mateo, flashed with images and words. I narrowed my eyes as I focused on the image in front of me.