Caroline

Chapter Two

Authors Note: I wasn't going to upload the second chapter until I had some readers, but I decided I might as well get it done while I have the time. I'm currently working on chapter three, so there won't be another upload until that is done. I'm hoping to finish it with in the next couple of days. :) Enjoy.

Two     

           The house was beautiful, each room fully furnished and beautifully decorated with an assortment of art, and it was obvious that the dark-haired man was very proud of the house. She would have been too, as it reminded her of some kind of a southern mansion.

            Maybe she was in the south.

            In addition to the living room, kitchen, and half-bathroom, there was a den downstairs. Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a full bathroom with a shower and a clawstone tub. Caroline had been instructed not to go into the den unless invited, as that was where the dark-haired man did his work, though he didn’t tell her what kind of work he did. She had tried to ask him questions several times, but he always talked around them.

As they came back downstairs, the dark-haired man led her back into the kitchen where he opened up what Caroline had thought was a closet door. But when he pulled back the door Caroline found herself facing a carpeted set of stairs that led to a basement.

She froze.

Caroline was terrified of basements. She always had been, since she was a little girl and had gotten trapped in one during a family holiday while playing with her cousins. It had taken the adults several hours to find a key that would unlock the door, and in that time Caroline had been scarred for life. 

“I don’t want to go down there. Please.”

            He stopped and looked at her, really looked at her. Caroline assumed the sheer terror probably showed in her voice and in her facial features. Fear of basements was common enough, she assumed, and one he must have encountered before because he didn’t ask her for an explanation. He took her hand in his and patted it gently. 

“You’re not alone. I’ll be with you.”

            How strange that her kidnapper thought that his presence would comfort her. It did not.

            She took her hand out of his and took a step back.

            Caroline had never considered herself to be easily frightened, and she thought that, considering all that she had gone through in the last twenty-four hours, all that she was going through at this moment, that she was handling it extremely well. She had shed minimal tears, she hadn’t screamed or broken down or lost her sanity, though the last one could be impending. Throughout her life she had always handled stress very well, it was one of the things that made her such an outstanding caregiver. Her parents had frequently spoken to friends and family about how good natured their little girl was, how resilient. It took a lot for Caroline to reach her breaking point.

            But at this moment, she had reached it. 

“I am NOT. GOING. DOWN. THERE.” she said, slowing annunciating the last four words, putting all her anger, frustration, and conviction into them.

            If his body turned tense, his gentleness faded, or even if his eyes turned cold and deadly, the effect was lost on her. She had had enough. She was done. The dark-haired man had gotten the better of her in the parking lot, but the circumstances then were different than they were now. Then she had been preoccupied and unaware. He had cowardly attacked her from behind and he had won. But now she stood face to face with him, well aware of the danger.