Venator: Devil's Croon

2. Illusion or Truth?

"Aah," I groaned.

As soon as I opened my mouth, a stream of saliva trickled down my throat dripping onto the dark floor. Every inch of my body hurt, especially around my wrists and ankles.

With a jerk, I rose my face and glanced around with half-open eyes.

Two thick chains ran along the length of my body, keeping me bound to a huge iron pillar. There was little to no light in the dungeon where I was being kept, and the place stank of something rotten. Something really rotten.

With a jolt my hand moved to my wrinkling nose, only to get stretched back by the iron chains. I sighed. Whoever had me bound was going to pay.

But the stench wasn't my greatest worry when I saw where it came from.

An icy feeling slithered up my spine, pausing all my thoughts and freezing my lungs, as my eyes fell upon numerous young women bound to the same pillars as mine in the similar way. The pale women drenched in blood opened another door of questions in my head. Huge black circles adorned the bottom of their eyes. Their half torn clothes and miserable faces suggested something that really scared me.

With sunken cheeks and leathery skin these women hardly looked healthy. I wondered for how long they'd been kept down here and for what reason. Most of all, I wondered why I was being held captive.

"This doesn't look good," I whispered. This wasn't the first time I was kidnapped. It had happened before, not long after my search for the necromancer began.

"Who sent you?" I said, keeping fear out of my voice, when I heard steps approaching me in the dark dungeon.

The steps stopped for a moment. I looked over my shoulder. However, the darkness was too dense for me to spot anything. I only saw an outline of a man. But the glint of shiny hair was enough for me to decipher his identity.

"Why did you bring me here, you shiny haired freak?" I said.

"You may not know me, Laura Hannigan. But I certainly know you. Oh, I know you so well. That charming body, those trembling red lips, those big brown eyes, and those long silky black hair," he said slowly walking toward me. His words were like catalysts, trying to exponentially increase my disgust. He suddenly grabbed my hair, and I bit my lip to avoid a scream.

"You smell so good Laura Hannigan, even if you're so sweaty," he said laying his finger on me. "Especially when you're sweaty." He pulled my head close to his, and I saw his sick face, and his disgusting smile.

"Who are you?" I said, my voice wavering.

"I'm Matt, the sheriff's son. But beautiful ladies like you can call me Matty," he said as a sick grin spread on his face. "But you know what, tonight when we do it, call me daddy."

His words struck me like a thunderstorm. I flinched so hard I must've broken a bone or two. I'd previously assumed this kidnapping had to do something with hunters. But now it seemed as if I'd gotten myself in some serious human trafficking trouble. Hunter or molester, one thing was sure - I was dealing with a really twisted psycho stalker here.

"Oh don't worry dear. You won't end up like them," he said having followed my petrified gaze to the unconscious women. "Though you look delicious, you're too special for dinner."