My Kidnappers

Chapter 3 - It Ain't Rape If You Like It, Hun

Chapter 3- What the Fudge is Wrong With These People?

    My head was on the verge of exploding as I paced around the cellar. My wrists were still burning from the pain, my brain was pounding inside of my head, my mouth was dry, and my stomach was growling. Also, I'm pretty sure my skin was getting paler by the second by the lack of sun shining into the dull room.

My mind wandered over ever single explanation on how my kidnapper could of had that much strength. Maybe he was a cage fighter? Or possibly a boxer? But none of that made it possible for his eyes to turn red. When I stared into them, it made my knees week, my palms sweat, and tears to come to my eyes. And not in a good way.

This man was unlike anything I'd ever seen. And to be truthful, it terrified me.

After awhile, I came up with the only explanation I could have. He was some sort of demon, or a vampire. But those are mythical creatures, right? They don't exist. Even if I'd just seen it with my own eyes. The shock must have gotten to me, causing me to hallucinate. In the end, I had no explanation.

I just wanted Dylan. I needed Dylan. This can't be happening after all that had happened just before.I had proclaimed my love for him, for fucks sake. Why -- out of all the times this could've happened -- why now? Was this gods way of punishing me for something I did?

I didn't have much time to think about why I was in here, I needed to be figuring out how I was going to get out.

If I stayed trapped here, only god knows what would happen to me. This psychopath could be using me as a sex slave or a blood bank for all I know. Or he could be using me for some kind of ritual that requires a virgin. I blushed at the thought. Then it hit me. I was going to die in here. Alone. I was going to die in a cellar as a virgin.

That is if he decides against raping me then blowing my brains out, of course.

I stared at the metal door longingly, as if it would magically open and set me free No such luck. I would occasionally growl out in frustration and charge into the metal door in hopes it would budge, but it stayed glued to the hinges like a toddler hugging it's mother. It was no use. This room was made of stone and metal, there was nothing I could do to escape.

After I'd failed to escape enough times, a sob wrecked through my trembling body as I threw my back against the side of the bed, weakly sliding down to the ground. I found myself rambling over all of my thoughts, some I wasn't proud of either. At times, I kept asking myself why they couldn't have chose another girl to torture, which caused me to cry even harder.

I was going to go crazy in here. I was going to go loony.

My shaking hands reached up to grab the sides of my matted brown hair whenever my fingertips brushed over a cool bumpy metal.Gasping, I ripped the source from my hair with a hiss of pain -- only to discover it was a bobby pin. My body practically lurched off of the ground as joy and relief flooded through me. 

My feet quickly dragged me towards the metal door as I bent the pin to the right angle and -- remembering what my mother had taught me when I'd locked myself out of my own room once -- I stuck the smaller end into the small hole, twisting and turning it until I heard a small click. Taking my chance, I turned the knob and the door slowly creaked open.

"Sweet baby Jesus," I muttered, my face contorted into pure amazement. "I did it!"

The second I stepped out of the cellar, a brush of cold air brushed over me, indicating I was near the outdoors. I mentally cheered to myself, quickly rushing away from the cramped room and up the dark staircase infront of me, grinning when I saw the daylight shining through the cracks of the wooden door at the top of them. I pushed the doors open swiftly, almost being blinded by the white sparkling snow that coated what looked like a field.