Kidnap, torture, kill, repeat. That's how this serial killer rolls. So, what does it take for one boy to escape his horrifying captivity?
It takes guts!
Best friends, Kevin and Josh, are trying to juggle college classes while finding a way to launch...
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In the basement, Kevin's screams stopped. He started coughing, gradually losing his voice. A throat too dry and damaged failed him. He should have stopped screaming for help long ago, but he hoped someone would hear him.
Hope was all he had.
He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he last saw his kidnapper. Maybe half a day? Or maybe it was night? He had no idea.
He shouted one last time with a hoarse voice and chapped lips, "Can anybody hear me?" Then his voice came out low and desperate. "Someone?" Then quieter. "Anyone?" And quieter. "Please, help."
He closed his eyes and lowered his head, surrendering. Whatever he meant to scream next came out as no more than a sorrowful sigh.
Countless attempts to free his wrists from the hook left them wounded, bleeding slightly. It hurt to move. It hurt everywhere to move. It hurt to stay still, too.
A couple of tears rolled down his cheeks.
No, dammit! Man up. Get out of here.
He wiped his tears on his upper arms and shook his weary body one more time in another pathetic attempt to free himself from the hook. It was no good. He had reached the limits of his strength. Thirst, hunger, and exhaustion chewed at his weary soul.
He could no longer keep up the internal pep talk.
I'm gonna die here. I knew it the moment I saw that this guy wasn't afraid of showing his face without a mask. He'll never let me go. I knew even before that when I saw this bloody room and the hooks. I just hope it will be painless and quick.
After a little while, the kidnapper arrived, carrying bags of blood labeled "A+." He closed and locked the door behind him.
"Did ya miss me?" His voice was loud and playful.
Exhaustion from hanging and screaming for help weighed Kevin down, but he managed to scrape up enough strength to form a reply. "Fuck you." Sadly, his damaged throat allowed nothing more than a pathetic whisper to escape.
The man stood in front of Kevin and asked, "What's wrong with your voice?" He raised an eyebrow. "Have you been screaming for help all this time? HAHAHAHA." He pressed his stomach and roared with laughter.
"What's so funny, you psycho?" For some crazy reason, Kevin was feeling very cranky as he hung there like a slab of meat
"...HAHA." The maniac rested his hands on his knees and pulled himself together with a deep breath. "Wooh. That was so funny."
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