The Macabre ➸ Psycho C.R.

《5》

-Darcie-

I felt like I was going to throw up.

I had been in whatever the cabin was that we had been in for hours, still tied against the radiator with my hands and knees still bound together with layers of duct tape.

My stomach was begging for food, and my throat was hoarse again, as I hadn't had a drink in about a day.

Chandler was sat at a desk, on a chair, typing onto a very expensive looking laptop. He had disposed of April's body in such a way that if I had to mention again, I would vomit.

Although he had cleaned every last remainder of blood that had drained out of her body and onto the walls and floors, the splatters of crimson that remained on his face, hands, and even on my jeans made me want to hurl.

"We've got to clean you up. You're fucking filthy, D." He said, turning his head in my direction

Don't call me 'D'. I thought, but after seeing what he was capable of doing, I didn't dare to say it.

I trembled, like I had been doing for the past several hours as he stood up and walked over to me.

"So, would you rather..." he began, crouching infront of me, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"Would you rather me knock you out so you can't react, or you keep quiet, calm, and do everything I say until we get back to the house?"

I looked up at him through my hair, not replying in fear that he would yell at me.

"You know it's common courtesy to answer when someone asks you a question." His smirk disappeared and I quickly averted my eyes back to the ground, too afraid to anger him.

"I..." My voice strained rather than spoke, so I cleared my throat, pushing my hair behind my ears with my bound hands. "I'll stay quiet." I said, my throat scratching.

"Damn. You sound thirsty." He scoffed and smirked again.

Chandler ran his hand through his hair and turned to look out of a small window at the top of the wall beside him. "It's dark now." He turned back to me. "I'm going to untie you, but your hands are staying like this." He pulled out a knife from the holster which was wrapped around his waist, and cut through the tape holding my knees together.

I shifted a little as his cold hands travelled behind me to reach the knots of the rope. I shivered and goosebumps formed on my bare arms as his icy fingertips came in contact with my skin, and I couldn't help but cough as my dry throat stuck together again.
His eyes darted up through his hair to look at me. It was a blank expression, but I was still scared, and remained silent.

Eventually, the rope became loose enough for me to wriggle out of. As I was forced to my feet by a pull from Chandler, I stumbled as my legs were weak. I fell onto him, and he held onto my shoulders as I gripped his forearms, trying to support myself. I winced as he pushed against the stab wound on my shoulder.

I looked up at him with my tired eyes and stuttered out an apology. "I'm...I'm sorry. I'm just hungry." A whisper was all I could manage as my throat refused to let me speak properly.

He pushed me back so that the wall supported me. "No shit. Your stomach's been grumbling for ages." I looked at the ground as I felt my cheeks burn up. "I'm not gonna lie, I could do with a pizza." He said afterwards, before letting go of my shoulder that he still had his hand on.

He let go, and began walking to a door, which alike the one at the house, had several locks on it. He began Unlocking them, and once he opened the door, he turned to me. "Come here."