HELL IN YOUR HEAD

TWO

2: WHAT THEY WANT

I wake up. I'm not in my bed.

I'm tied to a chair, I know that for a fact, but I have a blindfold on and duct tape over my mouth so I can't see or speak. What do I do? What any other person would do: listen. I strain my ears trying to listen for something, other than the sound of my own breathing.

Hearing nothing, I begin to lick the duct tape. It tastes disgusting, but it's worth it when the tape loosens and I now have the ability to yell.

"IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?"

I hear footsteps. At first, I can't tell if that is a good sign or what, but I take it as a bad sign when my duct tape is ripped off entirely by this person.

I take a deep breath and ask, "Why am I blindfolded?" 

This man gives a low chuckle before replying with, "It gives you more of a thrill, does it not?"

"Okay, I see your point, but I'd like to see my surroundings. If that's okay with you."

"If it's okay with me?" He questions.

"Well, it seems like you're the one in charge right now, so..."

"You're surprisingly calm about all this, aren't you?" His voice is a combination of a serial killer and an adult talking to a five-year-old.

I laugh, somewhat sinisterly. "Oh please. I know you probably need me for something if you kidnapped me. If you were to just kill me, you would've done it at the park."

"For a spoiled bitch, you're sort of a smartass."

"How do you know I'm sp-"

"Cash! Get in here!" The guy shouts.

Much heavier footsteps near us, indicating the meatiness of this other man. "Gary, man, take off the blindfold. I told you that was a stupid idea."

Gary takes off my blindfold, and I instantly see an old, abandoned-looking warehouse. It is only lit by one light bulb on the ceiling and the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

As suspected, Cash is the more muscular one, bald, with a bushy, unshaven beard. His eyes are lifeless, making me wonder how many people he's hurt or killed.

Gary, the one talking to me a moment ago, looks a bit like Brad Pitt, only less attractive and skinnier. His eyes, unlike Cash's, hold life, but it's as if it had been drained. I could tell he was once a good person, and something or someone took that away from him.

"Damn, she's hot as fuck," Cash says.

"Yeah, well that's not why she's here," retorts Gary, who's looking rather longingly at me.

"Yeah okay, why am I here then?"

The two look at me. Gary reaches over and slaps me across the face. He then grabs me by the collar of my shirt, pulling himself towards me so I feel his cigarette breath on my face and burning cheek.

"We want your money," Gary growls. "All of it. And for you and your asshat of a dad to keep quiet about this."

Tension builds in my jaw. My eyebrows curl downward. I bite my lip to keep myself from crying, only to draw blood inside of my mouth.

Gary lets go of me, turning towards Cash and they exit the room. I hear them murmuring something to one another, but it's nothing I can make out.

I wriggle around in my ropes as if they would magically come loose. I have fairly small hands, so my chances of withdrawing my them from the ropes are raised. 

I'm tied with each foot to its own leg of the chair, and my hands are held together behind my back and the chair. Strategies to escape plot themselves in my mind while I relentlessly struggle under the prickly material.

If I can get the pocket knife in my boot, I'll be golden. But how am I going to do that?

I keep pulling my hands further and further apart, stretching the ropes slowly.

This is gonna suck.

✧

A/N - Hey! Glad you kept reading. Sorry for the short chapter today. More good, lengthy ones are definitely coming. Please tell me what you think so my insecurities about my writing can subside. Friendly reminder to vote and follow me too? Cio for now, buddies.

-Sophie (づ￣ ³￣)づ