Enslaved Heart (A "No one lives" fan-fiction)

Whose to Blame?

                                                                      ~Day 11 of Captivity~

Donna couldn't sleep, questions with no answers swirled just out of the reach of her grasping hands and this whole situation seemed surreal, almost like a dream of it's own. If it wasn't for the fact that the cheap thin mattress's cotton top was sticking to her sweat soaked arms in that moment she would have suspected that this entire thing was a figment of her imagination, but it wasn't. Just one sweep of the cell's short interior void of anything besides a small strip of barred white moonlight on the ground and a lamp empty of any light tucked far in the corner out of reach, other than that it was a desolate space. From the notches in the stone that she could feel with her fingertips seven days had passed since the initial kidnapping. Seven tortuous and conflicting days the first of which being the worst but as time went on she had begun to get her bearings back. Taking note of the scents and small glimpses of the landscape outside just to gather an inherent awareness of where she was being kept.

From that knowledge gathering it was clear that he had taken her to a stone cell like area in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woods and trees. There was no traffic or people hiking around nearby, not even avid hunters, so she suspected they were far off the grid in a remote area. That certainly didn't help pinpoint things but at least that was something to be aware of though tonight in her sleepless wonder she approached the window as far as the chain would allow her and yelled. Screamed into the air just to vent some frustration as a cold breeze bristled her pale cheek and then the sound dying in her throat as it was mimicked by a deeper male voice. A man was screaming with her, at first hope soared in her chest and then the door swung open revealing her captor who looked unimpressed but also with a hint of arrogance.

"Scream all you'd like. No one will hear you but me. No one is searching for you out here, you're simply wasting your time and energy. I thought you were smarter than that."

Anger flickered like a roaring fire in Donna's mind but she stifled it in his presence watching as he crouched down to flick on the lantern then straightened, unclicking a metal pocket knife from the handle and gingerly testing the smooth sharp blade against his fingertip. Upon drawing blood he lifted it up and licked away the beaded crimson droplets satisfied with the testing but for now letting the knife lay against his side gripped tightly in one hand. Her own fingers twitched with a desire to snatch it away and drive it into his shoulder blade but the collar kept him at arm's length and even if she could get the blade he could easily disarm her. No, it was best to bide her time pacing on bare feet against the cement ground looking like a restless caged animal.

"You can't be angry forever."

"I'd beg to differ. I've been known to hold quite a grudge." Though this was mostly untrue the sudden uncertainty in his brows caught her interest, why did he care if she held a grudge? Her eyes dragged back down to the pocket knife but.. What use would he have with that?

"Do you know the most fatal parts on your body when it comes to a stabbing?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Answer the question." He prompted further.

"Yes. I do. Usually the gut and chest areas where the organs are located. If driven deep enough internal damage can lead to bleeding inside the organs or simply puncturing an important organ bad enough will be just as fatal. The head is similarly dangerous if the brain is damaged at all disastrous consequences tend to follow, though that's the point of the skull." Years of taking classes at a mostly medical college for Veterinary studies and also crime shows sprung up in that moment and Donna praddled on through the answer feeling a surge of pride at her good memory.