Tronnor : Hostage

Chapter 10.

11th October 2016

10:00am

Connor's POV

I had never felt more hungry in my whole life.

I blinked slowly as I regained my vision. My eyes felt heavy, bruised as I opened them, probably because of the large punch I had, had to the face. I shook my head nevertheless, and sat myself up against the wall.

It hadn't occurred to me until now, that my hands were no longer chained, and I was free to move around. I twisted my wrists, listening to the joints crack, before studying the damage that my struggling had achieved. My arms were lined with red marks, and a sort of yellow coloured bruising, all beginning to take affect as my hands suddenly throbbed, making me scrunch my eyes once again.

I hated this.

Taking advantage of my now free roaming of this hell hole, I thought I would stretch my legs, stand for a bit. Explore. I pushed myself to my feet, and clung onto the edge of the wall. My feet felt like they had permanent pins and needles, and that kick in the stomach wasn't wearing well, not as I tried to un hunch my back.

I began to walk a few steps, and I was wincing with every one. My injuries, lack of food, and lack of walking over the past days were only adding to my issues, and I suddenly felt very light headed. Nothing was supporting me, as I stood pained in the middle of the basement. No one was here to hear my cry of agony.

Not until the door opened.

"Connor what are you doing?!" Troye squealed, catching my falling body in the middle of the room. I looked up at him, giving him a weak smile, before slowly tumbling to the ground, still in his skinny arms.

"Connor can you hear me?" Troye sounded panicked, but to me his words were muffled, and I felt dizzy. "Connor?" He spoke again, shaking me slightly. It was no use, the pain was taking over.

All I could see was blackness.

12:00pm

"Here, drink this." I woke up to find myself on Troyes lap, his jacket acting as a cushion for my head, on his knees. He was holding a cup full of water, his eyes looking down on me, sincere but concerned. I took the plastic cup shakily and began to take sips of the liquid, a smirk now playing on my face, as I felt it slide down my throat.

"T-that feels so good" I mumbled, gesturing for more as Troye held the cup. He had placed my bruised wrist back down at my side, and supported my head as he let me take another sip. He was treating me so well, for a hostage.

"I managed to sneak you a sandwich in here." He smiled, removing it from his pocket. I was now sat up against the wall, looking at it with enlarged eyes. The thought of food made my stomach do summersaults. I needed it, so badly!

He unwrapped the packaging and placed it on my lap. I was devouring it in seconds.

"Did I pass out?" I asked between bites, watching as he sat next to me, beginning to study my wrists. He nodded, taking out a piece of cloth from his pocket, and grabbing the bucket that I had woken up next to.

"You passed out because you haven't had food or water in two days." He sighed, before dipping the cloth in the bucket's water, and wrapping it around my arm. "This is what I used to clean your face wounds yesterday." He dabbed my cuts gently, before placing some sort of bandage around each wrist.

"I managed to steal the first aid kit from upstairs, God knows why they had one!" He chuckled securing his work with a large safety pin, now neatly holding it together.

"Thank you." I whispered, my voice still weak. "I would have gone crazy if you hadn't have been looking after me!" I continued. "It's only been two days I think, and look at me, I'm, I-I'm a wreck!"