His Obsession

Five

"Good girl. Now," he pauses, taking a swig of alcohol; "the rules." He motions for me to sit in one of the wooden chairs surrounding the table. I sit as he begins to speak. "There aren't many rules, but there is one I demand most that you abide by, and that's respect. You respect me and Dylan and there should be no problems. Understand?" I nod my head. "Yes Sir." He smirks as he continues.

"By 10 o'clock every night you are to be in the room for the night. I will make sure to check and to lock the door as well, in case you decide to sneak around. Also, during the day you are expected to clean the house. Basic cleaning such as, wiping stuff down and folding clothes etc." He takes another swig of his drink.

"There's also no cursing, fighting, or arguing with us. Whatever we say, you do. It's pretty simple. Got it?" My eyes stay to the ground. "Yes Sir." He smiles. "Also, eye contact is a big thing for me, it shows respect." My eyes slowly look to his blue ones. He smirks.

"Also, if it isn't oblivious enough, don't try to escape or run. We'll always find you. And while we're at it we'll make a visit to your parents or maybe even Jake." My eyes widen in fear.

Would they really hurt my parents or Jake?

He stands up, pushing in his chair. "You must be starving. Come." He holds out his hand, waiting for me to take it. I hesitate, looking into his eyes as he gets impatient. I take it as he leads me down the hallway and to the kitchen. He leads me to one of the wooden stools. I hop onto it, as he fills up a glass of water and hands it to me.

I quickly take it, downing it in a matter of seconds. He laughs, taking it from me and filling it up again. This time I drink about half, sipping the rest. He pulls out some vegetables and dried pasta, along with some heavy cream. He reaches into the pantry, throwing me a nutrition bar. I rip it open eating half of it in one bite.

He turns of the stove as I continue eating the bar. He takes out a pot and fills it with water, bringing it to a boil. He grabs a sauce pan and pours some heavy cream into it, before chopping some vegetables.

After I finish the bar and water, my eyes scan around the kitchen and living room. My eyes land on the knife block. Rows of dark handles. My eyes continue to wonder. They land on the giant painting on the walls in the living room. I guess Cole saw me looking because he starts to speak about them.

"They're from 1833." My eyes stay on the paintings as I speak. "Who painted them?" I turn so that I'm now looking at him. "Um... My ancestors." He continues chopping. "Is it okay if I look around?" The question topples out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"One: that's not how you ask me anything. Two: no, you can't. I don't trust you yet." I scoff, annoyed. He smirks, amused at the fact that he was getting to me. Since I couldn't look around for an escape, I decide to ask questions. Maybe he'd slip and say something that could help?

"How old are you anyway?" His eyes meet mine and I remember him saying something about asking questions in the "right" way.

"May I ask how old you are?" I ask sipping my third glass of water.

He chuckles, throwing the vegetables in with the heavy cream. "Twenty three" He smirks. I choke on my water. "T-Twenty Three?" I ask shocked. He nods. "You know I'm only seventeen, right?" He nods.

"Yup. October 26, 1999. Hillard Ohio." My eyebrows furrow. "How do you know so much about me?" He smirks, draining the pasta. "I know more about you than you think." He finishes the food, handing me a big plate of pasta. I devour it quickly as he grabs me another plate.

"Where are we?" I ask, taking a forkful of pasta to my mouth. "Aurora, West Virginia."

"What?" I drop my fork. He nods. "201 people. Settled by John Stough, a Lutheran minister in 1787. Originally called Salem, then Mt. Carmel, and now Aurora."

"How long have you lived here?"

"I grew up here, actually I was born here. I moved out when I turned 17 and moved to New York. I traveled for a long time, then decided to come back a few years ago."

"How old is the house?"

If it was as old as I think it is, then security alarms would more than likely not be installed, unless the remodeled the house and wiring.

"It was originally built in 1790, but burnt down in 1833."

"Why?" His eyes dart to the floor.

"I don't know. They rebuilt the house in 1835 and its been up ever since."

"181 years?!" I was shocked. He nods. "Yeah. I mean, with remodeling and fixing up and stuff." I take another bite of pasta. "You and Dylan, you guys are twins?" He laughs. "We look alike yes, but we have absolutely different personalities." He clasps his hands together after fixing his hair.

"How so?" I ask, twirling the creamy pasta around my fork before taking a bite. "Um, Dylan's more soft spoken, quiet. He doesn't get mad often."

"And you?"

"I'm more... Demanding and blunt. It doesn't take much to make me mad, unlike Dylan. But, even though it takes a lot to make Dylan mad, when he does get mad there is no stopping him. You should just leave him alone, let him cool off." He rubs his knees before standing up, grabbing my now empty plate.

"So just some words of advice, don't make him mad."