Promise Me | Book Three

Chapter Thirty-One

Mikasa's POV

Never have I ever hated being alone with my agonising thoughts more. Perhaps in my last life.

How long have I been in here? In this painful isolation? Feels like days, but it could have been one -- there is no telling what time it is as the room is almost pitch black. 
My stomach feels twisted as I'd already spewed some bile from that constant taste of old blood in my mouth; now I can indulge in the odor of it until I die.

No. I won't die.
He wouldn't let me even if I tried. He's evil like that.

The cold is eating away at my fingers and my toes, the dress feels like nothing on me anymore, my wrists are throbbing from the chains that weave so tightly around them and I feel nauseous yet hungry, pensive yet mildly insane. 

I need to think of a way to get myself out of this situation. Surely, Eren will come to feed me because he wants something from me, meaning he will need me alive. Although, he could be sick enough to play with my corpse; that wouldn't even surprise me because he is not who I thought he was.

But, I need to analyse my options -- all that doesn't include dying here. Persuading him probably wouldn't work, unless I swear that I will dedicate myself to him and then kill him when he least expects. Even so, he wouldn't likely take the bait. Even if he does, what would I have to kill him with? He is stronger than me, so a fist brawl would guarantee my defeat. 

I need to be very smart about this because I know he will analyse every move I make to figure out my intentions.

Maybe once I get out of this place, I will be able to weigh my options. The first task is to get out, then I will have to get my strength back through efficient rest, food and drink (which could take a couple of days). If something goes wrong with this plan, I could risk dying and he cannot win over me.  
Nothing bad will come of me if I only merely try to persuade because he would expect that. If that is successful, I have an abundance of time to make my final decision. I will cross that bridge when it comes to it.

* * * 

A screech jolts me awake. Light enters the room and burns my eyes -- I'd forgotten what it'd been like to see clearly. I blink rapidly as I try my best to examine what was happening in front of me, letting the tears flow out of my eyes to lubricate them as they're irritated by the light. The door shuts and the luminescence is gone immediately. My voice is so rasp as I barely say, "who's there?"
I sit up from my slouch against the corner of the room.

A torch light flickers on and I see a half a bottle of water on a tray in the figure's hand. It's got to be Eren.

He crouches down beside me and places the tray in front of me and I see there is also a plate of what seems to be mashed potato. Or perhaps a porridge. I can't tell, but I am very tempted to throw my face into it and consume it in one go. 
The amount of water in the bottle isn't very generous, considering I am dehydrating in here.

He shines the torch at me and I squeeze my eyes shut with whatever muscles still worked in my face, he then places it on some sort of surface next to me, like a table that I did not even know was there at all. I can see his face clearly now and he can see me. His face is haunting, especially with smirk that I would rip off with no remorse if I could -- if my hands were not in binds. 

"'Ow long 'as it be-"
"You've been in here for seventeen hours. I thought that would be long enough for you to learn your lesson, naughty girl."  

My voice has struggles forming the letter 'h' so it came out as inaudible like the majority of my sentence, yet he still understood.