Ominous

F I V E

Annie

The three of us sit at a table in the middle of a room filled with them. This place must have been a hotel before these two psychos took it over.

I look down at my hand. My left wrist is handcuffed to the leg of the table while my other hand is free. I can't slide my wrist out of the metal chains. He closed it too tight for me to escape. That's good for them I guess.

I glance back up at the table while my captors scarf their food in to their mouth. I have a plate sitting in front of me, filled with the same meal they are enjoying in front and beside me. This stuff looks disgusting. Who would ever eat this kind of thing?

Someone who hasn't eaten dinner yet, maybe... No. I couldn't. That would mean they win this. And I can not let that happen if it's the last thing I do. Which, it might very well be.

No matter how hungry I may be, I can not let them overpower me by forcing me to eat their sorry excuse of a meal.

"Eat." My captor glances up from his plate, hunched over it as if to protect it from someone stealing it.

I shake my head and tear my face away from him. I can't dare look him in the face and defy him. I can't even imagine the things he would do to me. I don't want to imagine them. They are too scary to think about.

"This is your last meal. Eat. I want the cops to know you were very well fed by me." He smirks and places his hand near me on the table.

What crawled up his ass and made him like this? Why would he want to hurt people? How is that a fun pastime for him? He has this sort of war with the police. But why? What have they done to him to make him so evil?

He is not just be evil on the surface kind of guy either. He hasn't been wronged by a girlfriend and swears to get revenge by killing all girls like her. No, he is the kind of evil that is born evil. He wasn't treated right as a child, abandoned even. He had a terrible childhood.

Gosh I wish I wasn't thinking about work right now. I'm always analyzing people. That should be the last thing on my mind right now. I'm in a serial killer's hideout, miles and miles away from my house and any sort of civilization. Now is not the time to think about his mental health. I already know he is unstable.

I shake my head again, asserting myself, this time, looking him dead in the eyes. He cocks his head to the side and shakes his head at me before standing and lunging over to me in one swift motion.

He smacks his hand on to my forehead and rakes his fingers down my skin, yanking my head straight back. I clench my jaw shut as he tries to force it open. I refuse to give in to him. I will not let him win. He squeezes my nose shut with two of his fingers, knowing I will have to take a breath at some point.

No no no. Crap! I can't breathe.

I open my mouth and gasp for air. Tears flood my eyes as he picks up a chunk of mystery meat on my plate and shoves it down my throat, closing my mouth and forcing me to eat it.

He releases me, allowing me to sit up straight.

I cough and spit out the remaining food in my mouth as I try to breathe and calm myself down. I have no doubt he left bruises on the outside of my mouth. He may have even cut me with the fork. He has lashed out at me for defying him. I need to be careful or I will not have a chance of making it out of here alive.

"Never do that again." He instructs me calmly as he sits back down. I look over at his friend, mortified by his actions. It's my guess that he has never done that to his victims before. That makes me a first. "Now eat!" He slams his fist on the table, noticing I have yet to put another bite in my mouth.

I lift my shakey hand up to the fork and lift it, stopping to watch it shake before hesitantly stabbing a piece of food on my plate with it.

I chew the food slowly, making sure he can see that I am eating. But also, trying not to think about the horrible taste it has left in my mouth.