Revenge

Eyes

No eyes.

He has no eyes.

"What's wrong, what do you see?" He was laying completely still. Paralyzed. As if he were dead but alive. There was a tube connecting from both his wrists to a container on a metal table to his right. 'That must have been what we saw when we were in the little room looking under the door,' Next to the large container, filled with a faint red liquid, was a much smaller jar. It held his eyes. One of the beautiful ocean blues stared right through me. It sent a strong shiver down my spine. The other was was looking upwards at the ceiling. I looked back at Peter.

I forgot to breath for a moment, and when I did the warm stale air inside the room burned my lungs. My eyes started to water. I felt bad. As the tears grew bigger inside my waterline, one escaped and crept down my cheek as he repeated his question. "You," 

that's all I could say. Stupid I know but with my dry mouth and the shocking situation, that's the only thing that would come out.

"What's wrong? Help me!" His mouth moved and that's about the only thing that could move. There weren't straps restricting him or anything. He looked as if he could stand up and walk away but he couldn't.

Even though tears rolled down my face, I felt calm. A lot calmer than I thought I would be in this situation. But then again why would a situation like this ever happen? It's like I'm in a movie, I'm being pranked. It's all a sick joke. At least that's what's it feels like.

But no.

It's real. Every second. Every minute. The minute he begging me to help him. And the minute he turns hostile and gets aggressive with every moment I'm quiet. It's a bit overwhelming to me. First I'm walking to my small apartment building minding my own business after visiting the library later than usual. Then I'm here. With Peter.

I guess another reason I was calmer was because he was a genuinely horrible person. The things he told me. Things that I never wanted to know a person would do just because they can. It's horrible. Yeah I felt bad, but that's cause I'm a decent human being that thinks this would be wrong with anyone. I have a heart, unlike him. A rapist. A murder. And animal killer. Evan Peter.

Peter.

When he first told me his name, one of me thought it sounded oddly familiar. The other was to busy being excited I wasn't completely alone. I didn't give it a second thought though. More important things needed my attention.

"You dumb bitch get me the hell out of here!" If he could move, he seemed like he would've jumped up an attacked me. After all he dod come off as that type of person. "Why the hell won't you say something?" The anger in his voice quivered in and out and it faded into sadness. No tears came. If they could have though they would've. It looked so strange. It's like his sobs weren't even coming from him.

I was so caught up in the whole scene I didn't notice someone enter the room. A hand was gently placed on my shoulder and gingerly squeezed. I could make out a white glove from my peripheral vision, the hand was bigger than that of a woman's. If they were to kill me right now I don't think I would care.

Maybe when I turned around there would be a gun pointing right between my eyes. 'Maybe they'd slit our throat instead,' Don't be stupid if they wanted to do that they had the perfect chance when we were turned around. 'Do you thinks that's gonna be us on the table? Paralyzed and helpless?' Only one way to find out. With another meaningless tear rolling down my cheek, ready for whatever happens, I slowly turned around.

Next thing I knew, I was blinded by a white light. Then a sharp pain on the side of my neck. Followed by darkness.