Come Back For Me | Jughead Jones

Chapter 36: Search Party

↳ Monday

May. 15th↲

My eyes felt heavy, my heart beating in my head as loud noises from above me forced my eyes open. As my lids raised, my head lolled back and forth. It was a poor attempt at trying to snap out of this dreary haze I was engulfed in, but it wouldn't go away.

Everything was slightly blurry, but I could make out certain things. There was a couple of metal racks with bulks of beer and boxes on it. Across the way was a large heavy door, locked twice. My head fell to the side as I tried to observe my surroundings. To my right, the room went even further with another door, open, which seemed to be a small dimly lit closet. There were more racks. I turned to my left, where the wall was closer. A table was set against the dingy white brick walls. On it was a tray with needles and knives. But what caught my eye was the gun.

I then heard someone rummaging in the closet. I quickly panicked, pulling my arms only to find that I was tied down with ropes. They were itching my wrists, pulling at my skin, causing it to be red and irritated.

I would've screamed for help, but any noise I let out was weak. I had no energy flowing through me, as though I was drugged. It wouldn't surprise me if I were.

I watched as Derek walked through the door with a chair. My heart rate spiked, my eyes widening. Tears slipped down my cheeks.

He looked at me and then gave a half smile. "Hey, Catherine..." he greeted gently. "Seems that you're feeling the morphine. Eh?"

He dragged the chair to the table, before turning it towards me. After sitting down, he crossed his leg over his thigh and relaxed, watching with amusement.

"You got nothing to say? Not even a scream? A holler?" He questioned. "Go ahead. I'll give you one shot at someone hearing you."

I began to cry softly, but built up my yell. I shifted a little and let in a deep breath.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. "H...heEEEEELP!"

My voice was frail and weak and felt as though if I were more conscious I could've done better. I blew my one shot, and he knew that I would.

"Ooooh! Nice try, but you see... the walls are soundproof. I mean, you tried though," he clasped his hands, smiling a little at my pain.

I looked at him with pure anger brewing in my soul.

His smile quickly faded into anger. "Hey. You're the one that got with me in the first place. You wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't gotten with me."

"Worst decision I've ever made," I uttered out.

Suddenly, metal items clattered on the table and Derek rushed over to me with a blade. He pressed it to my cheek, sitting down on my lap as if I were a chair. Just an object.

He got close to me. Close enough so that I could see his stubble, his bloodshot eyes, his under-eye circles, and smell the alcohol on his breath.

He pressed his blade into my cheek. "Nah. You have a pretty face. As for your body..." he glided his blade from my cheek to my shoulder.

"P-please," I sobbed, looking away with my eyes shut.

He forcefully grabbed my cheeks and turned my face to him. "Look at me when I talk to you."

I kept my eyes closed, crying even more. He gave me a hard smack.

"LOOK. AT. ME!"

My eyes shot open to find him angry. He made eye contact and then smiled.