Found Obsession

Chapter 37: Special Chapter! Erin Miller

The last thing Erin remembered was the dark alley.

"Stupid bitch," he muttered to himself, realizing she had knocked him out.

When he awoke, a sharp, searing pain radiated from his back. His body felt heavy, and he quickly realized he was hanging, blood dripping down his sides. His back was stuck to something-some kind of hook or hanger that held him suspended.

"Ugh," he groaned, trying to move, but the pain was unbearable.

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small desk where a man sat, Erin could only see his back, quietly writing. Erin's vision focused, and his breath hitched. A whole wall of photos stretched across the room-each one dedicated to her.

Detective Roselyn Hansley.

There were pictures of her entering her house, laughing, living her life. Every moment, every possible detail of her existence seemed captured and pinned to the wall. It was disturbing.

"You sick fuck," Erin managed a hoarse laugh, his eyes flicking to a page on the desk that was pinned where something was listed...

He couldn't see.

The man at the desk didn't react, continuing to write as if Erin's presence meant nothing.

"Let me out! I can help you!" Erin's voice was shaky now, desperation creeping in. "I can lure her in for you. We could take turns fucking that fine ass of hers."

The man froze at those words. Erin saw it as a sign to keep going.

"She's a Hansley part of a very rich family, but I can get you close. You wouldn't be able to get far without me, but together, we could-"

He noticed the man reach toward his black mask, fingers brushing over something. For a split second, Erin thought he might actually get him down.

Erin's excitement grew despite the pain. "Just think about it. That natural redhead under you, begging... Oh, I can already taste it."

But before Erin could continue, the lights flickered, he held his breathe and then he felt a presence behind him.

A sharp, violent jolt surged through his body, sending his muscles into spasms. His mouth filled with blood, and his body shook uncontrollably. Over and over, the pain intensified until his world went black.

When he regained consciousness, Erin found himself tied to a chair, his body bloodied and broken. The cold air bit at his wounds, and the silence of the room pressed in on him like a death sentence.

He awoke to those grey eyes that had haunted his nightmares.

He was alive. How? He felt a chill down to his core.

The man was standing over him, the very sight of him sending a wave of horror through Erin's body. He began screaming, his terror exploding out of him.

"I'll be good! I'll be good!" Erin's voice cracked in desperation, but his cries were quickly muffled as a strip of tape was pressed harshly across his mouth, silencing him.

From that moment on, Erin never saw the light of day again. The dim, claustrophobic room became his entire world. He could only watch as the man, his captor, moved silently back and forth, occasionally pausing to touch the pictures of Detective Hansley on the wall. Each time his fingers brushed over her image, Erin's heart clenched in dread, he seemed irritated and when the man was angry, it meant only one thing-more pain, more unspeakable torture.

Erin had no idea how long he'd been there, suspended between life and death, but he clung to the hope that someone would come, that someone would notice he was missing. Each passing day-or was it night?-blurred together in an endless loop of suffering.