Tick Tock, It's 2 O'clock

4 - Endless Torment

Day Seven

Carson found out what the man's plans were. She didn't find out by him explaining it. Oh, no. She found out when he did it to her the next day.

At 2 AM everyday, the man Carson has come to know as Nate (he told her to call him that), blindfolded her and took her out of her concrete room. Then, after some walking, he would remove the blindfold and Carson would be in another concrete room.

This one was dark, the opposite of her always lit room, and only had one source of light. A fire.

Remember what he said about liking fire?

Carson now hated fire with a burning (no pun intended) passion.

And his liking of time?

That's where 2 AM came in.

Now for what he did.

Everyday at 2 O'clock he brought Carson into this room. She would get sat in a chair next to a table and he would put the leather straps on her wrists and legs and neck and chest and he would do it tightly.

She had bruises on her body from the tightness and the amount of time that she was strapped to the uncomfortable, metal chair.

But really, what was comfortable anymore?

Carson now found the concrete room that she spent her nights in comfortable - in the sense of physically being comfortable. She wasn't yet emotionally comfortable with the brightly lit room that keeps her from her family.

The only thing Carson now found uncomfortable was the chair.

She had to sit in it, barely able to move as Nate asked her questions. Today, she worries that he'll be back to once again take her to the chair.

Carson knows he will, yet, somehow, she has a small amount of hope that she'll get out of this alive.

Keys rattle.

Nate is here.

The door opens and Nate yanks Carson up from her curled up, sitting position. He blindfolds her with the black material that Carson can't find it in herself to name. Was it silk? Was it a scarf?

Did it even matter? No. But what else was Carson to think of? - certainly not her upcoming terror.

Carson walked with her kidnapper to the dark, fire-y room. She felt tears threatening to fall, but she refused to let them fall until she couldn't hold them back anymore.

Nate sat her in the chair and strapped her in. Carson had stopped struggling because it was worse when she tried to fight him.

The blindfold was removed from Carson's eyes and she sighed in defeat. Nate heard her sigh and smirked proudly.

"Tick Tock, Tick Tock," he tormented.

Carson winced as he spoke his next words, "it's two o'clock."

He laughed evily and Carson felt dejected. Was this how her final days were going to be? Was this her final day?

A table sat next to Carson's chair and another chair sat across from her. This chair was cushioned and Nate sometimes sat in it watching Carson's screams of horror exit her mouth and her extreme pain.

From the table, Nate grabbed a small pocket knife.

Small it may be, but that damn thing will be the death of me, quite literally.

Carson quietly scolded herself for such thoughts and Nate chuckled at her terror-strickened face.

"One, two, three," he said aloud as he made small, almost painless cuts into her left arm.

"Say it now," Nate demanded of Carson and she sucked in a breath before going on.

"Four, five, six," he cut into her right arm for these numbers and Carson felt helpless. She didn't want to count as he cut her and hurt her to no end. But she had to. She had to or he would get his fun.

Nate cut into her left cheek, "thanks for not struggling today." He whispers and laughs to himself, "you learn quickly, I see. A great pick of mine. . ." He trails off and looks Carson in the eyes.

She watches as he licks her blood off of his knife, slowly and carefully as if to brag about his power in this peticular situation. Carson can't help but glare at him, and today, Nate wasn't in the mood.

That or he just wanted to hurt her a lot more than usual.

"Ah, ah, ahhh. We don't glare at those above us, we worship them." He smiles and Carson flinches. She hates his smile. She hates his glare. She hates his knifes, his tools, his rooms, his fire, his time!

She hates him!

"Say it with me, now," he says it again, expecting her to join, "we don't glare of those abov-" He stops and squints.

Carson shrinks in her strapped spot and he twirls his knife in his fingers.

"Time to brand again, yes?" A single tear slips down Carson's cheek and she hates herself for that. Nate repeats himself, louder this time, "yes?!"

Carson nods, "yes." It was the first time she's spoken for two days so her voice comes out hoarse and scratchy. It's also weak, her voice is weak.

Nate grins a nasty grin and grabs his 'branding tool'. He walks to the fire and puts it in there. While it gets piping hot, he asks Carson questions and Carson refuses to answer, only making Nate more angry.

He lays his metal tool down and picks up a sharp knife. Walking up to Carson, he rubs his finger down the side of it, unintentionally drawing blood.

He licks his finger and grips the knife.

"Should've answered, Carson." He points in front of Carson into the dark, she squints and sees the faint outline of something. "A camera," Nate shrugs.

Carson looks at him with wide eyes and he answers her unasked question.

"I've been sending everything to your dear, dear mother." Carson gasps quietly and tears threaten to escape. From the cuts she's just received, to the information she's just received, Carson feels like crying and crying and crying.

"Oh, and to Cherry. Amanda already doesn't speak, I figured I'd just go with the girl who cries herself to sleep every night and doesn't leave her room." Carson let's out a choked sob and speaks without permission.

"You're not only torturing me, but you're using me to torture my family and friends?" Carson asks and holds her breath as she waits for an answer.

"Yes." He simply says and grins.

She sees no sign of remorse. No sign of regret, or even the smallest hint of sympathy. Carson only sees a man who's incapable of feeling anything but anger and glee, the latter only when he hurts and torments another person.

Another being.

Carson hates this man, now more than ever. She stares at him in disgust.

"You can hurt me and you can torment me. You can cut me and hit me and drag me and brand me. You can do all of these, and show it to my loved ones?" Carson half says and half asks and then speaks again. She's brave for this, Carson knows this. But she hopes she gets her point across, even if it's the last thing she does.

"You're absolutely crazy. You have no heart. You are no human."