Phasmophobia

Phasmophobia 2

It's been six days since he brought me here, to his house. The first day he never even spoke to me. I didn't even see him. I guess he just threw me away and locked the door. I had been drugged and remembered nothing, not even the last thing I did before I was taken.

I woke up bound in the corner of the room, half asleep but able to understand that I wasn't home. I was in a makeshift room connected to his house. It was like he just busted through his wall and wedged a dilapidated shed on it and called it good. He left me in it alone until the second day.

I was already awake before he walked in. I had heard his footsteps approach the door then I saw his shadow underneath it. He waited there, like he was nervous or something, before unlocking the door and stepping in.

He was slow to move, cautious, and he closed the door with his body, leaning against it with his hands behind his back. He rested his head against the wood, his eyes moving across me. The corners of his mouth twitched, trying to form a smile, but never fully did. It was quiet, so quiet I heard him swallow.

I didn't scream, didn't struggle or beg for him to let me go. It's not that I didn't want to try but something about him told me that I shouldn't or I'd regret it. And, I didn't feel like getting hurt.

He cleared his throat, getting my attention. I looked up at him, waiting, but he just stared at me with his mouth slightly open. He blinked a few times, readying himself to talk, but before he could, I spoke to him.

"What do you want?" He didn't answer, "Please, sir, just let me go. Nothing's happened yet, I won't--"

He attempted to laugh but all that came out was air. He smiled though, "My name's not sir, it's Garrett."

I cycled through all the names I knew, all the faces that I've seen, to no avail. I've never seen him and I wished I never had.

This time, he moved toward me, crouching in front of me. He was too close and I tried to back away, but the wall prevented that. It was the first time I smelled the coffee scent on his clothes and the first time I got a good look at him.

He was short, maybe a little taller than me, and skinny too. It was like he didn't get enough to eat. His brown hair was windblown in no particular direction, like he had just woken up, and his stubble was noticeable a mile away. He was just some plain guy, some sick freak that kidnapped me, some stranger leaning in to kiss me.

I tried to back away again and was met with frustration. I didn't have time to react and he had planted his lips on mine. He drew closer, very slowly while putting his hands on the sides of my face, then sat on my lap, his legs on either side of me. I struggled against him, moving my head, trying to end it, but he wouldn't give up. Then, adding on to my fear, his hand started to travel down me, getting lower, until I had enough.

His grip had weakened with his hand now gone and I took that chance to whip my head to the side and smash it into his face. He was taken aback, and took that as a hint, luckily for me. He held his head where I had hit him and stared at me with his mouth open. He wasn't angry like I thought he was going to be but instead stood up and left, faster than he had ever moved before.

For the next two days, he sat in the corner of the room, watching me eat the food he brought, leaving, coming back and watching me some more. It unsettled me but I was glad he didn't do anything. He didn't speak to me either nor did I say anything. On the fourth day, I finally gave up the silence and mustered the courage to ask him.

He was sitting in his usual spot when my voice spooked him. He was staring at my chest, it was obvious, when his eyes darted up to mine when he heard me speak, "I have to...go."

He knew what I meant and I was embarrassed, he could tell, I could tell, and I wished I didn't have to ask him. My face was hot, probably red, and I was shifting on the floor, trying to bury myself away from his eyes. I was watching him still, waiting for his reply.

I saw him clench his jaw and look away from me, thinking, before he stood up, grabbing the knife connected to his belt. I had never noticed it before and it wasn't just some pocketknife. It was used for hunting and the large metal blade was dull with age, and probably use. 

He walked over to me and gently grabbed my wrists, cutting away at the ropes, then doing the same to the ones around my ankles. He motioned with his head to stand up and I did. He sheathed the knife and grabbed me by the elbow, dragging me by my arm out the door and giving me a quick glimpse of his house.

The hardwood he had was much nicer than in the room I was being held in, and he had various lamps on that gave the living room a nice calming glow. The furniture looked expensive, so did the tv, hell, everything he owned looked like he was living every person's dream. It was clean too, as far as I could tell.

But I couldn't look for long. He dragged me past it into a small hallway then to the small bathroom. He again motioned me inside with his hand but quickly stopped me as I was heading in, "I'm giving you five minutes," then he pointed to his watch, letting me know he was actually going to time me.

I nodded and when he released me, I quickly headed in, shutting and locking the door behind me. He must've heard me do that, lock it, but didn't do anything about it. Did he trust me that much? I quickly did what I had to, washed my hands and all that, then went on for the hunt.

I had searched everywhere, there was absolutely nothing, no razors, nothing sharp, not even something as simple as a toothbrush. Everything seemed like it was cleaned out. I couldn't believe it but I didn't have time to be shocked. Garrett knocked on the door, "30 seconds and I'm coming in."

I drew my eyebrows together. Coming in? I had it locked from the inside, there was no way...I heard the lock shift and the door open. He had a key that unlocked it from the outside and now, he stepped through the doorway into the small space, giving me no room to really move.

Now that creeped me out. Did he have locks for every door in his house? I knew now that's why my locking the door didn't spook him. I knew now that I couldn't trust him at all. Hell, I never did.

I swallowed hard when he caught me standing there, staring at him. I could tell that he was annoyed and I think he knew I was searching around. He sighed, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He lead me back to the room and shoved me inside.

He had shut the door with his foot and pulled out the ropes from his back pocket. Too busy messing with them, he ordered me, "Sit down." I didn't listen, not wanting to be tied up. I knew it was stupid but any act of defiance should teach him that I'm not going to be his little slave.

When he saw that I didn't do as he asked, he growled under his breath, "Sit. Down." He had stopped what he was doing and his eyes grew wide with anger. I could see his veins pop out he was so angry. I took a deep breath, "No." and soon regretted it.

He grabbed my face with a death grip so strong I knew I would be hurting for a while. He drew his face closer to mine and to my surprise, didn't do anything but force me to sit down. He quickly tied me up then stood over me.

This was the most I had ever heard him speak, "I see that you have a tendency to not listen and I get it. I understand. I mean, I'm just some sick fu-" he stopped himself but soon continued with a sigh, "You're here, in some strange place with a strange man. You are bound not to listen but...you're here..with me..and my expectations are very high." He took a breath and crossed his arms over his chest, "A slave obeys its master," he stared a while before walking toward me, speaking with each step, "You..obey..me." He stared at me one last time, then stormed out of the room, not coming back in for the rest of the day.

It shook me up but I wasn't going to let his pathetic speech stop me. All it told me was he meant business and that if I didn't listen, I was probably going to get hurt, bad. I had to escape, before he could do anything.

The fifth day came around with that hot chocolate incident and with that in the past, today was the sixth day. The day that Michael came.