Chapter six

I woke up to find myself strapped to a cold, unforgiving concrete slab, my wrists and ankles bound tightly with chains that bit into my skin. My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as my eyes adjusted to the dim, flickering light above. 

A blurred figure loomed over me, and the sound of his voice, dripping with malice, sent a chill through my veins.

  

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead,” he drawled, his tone mocking and cruel.  

My vision cleared, and I was met with the sight of a man whose presence oozed danger. His face was rough, his eyes cold, devoid of humanity, and his mouth curled into a twisted grin that promised pain. 

 

My chest tightened as I struggled against the chains, the metal biting deeper into my skin with every move.  

“Please... please,” I whispered, my voice trembling as tears welled up in my eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he would spare me.  

But he only chuckled, a sound so devilish it made my blood run cold. 

 

“Oh, you’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” he sneered, his hands brushing roughly through my hair, yanking strands painfully. “Too bad pretty faces never last long.”  

He turned away, walking toward a nearby table covered in instruments. The sight made my stomach churn—a saw, pliers, knives. He arranged them carefully, like a doctor in an operating room.  

Sweat trickled down my temples as my heart raced, pounding in my ears. “Please,” I begged again, louder this time, but my voice was weak. The man was unmoved—he was a monster wearing a man’s skin.  

He returned, a small pill in his hand. “This’ll make it easier for you,” he said, his voice disturbingly calm. He bent over me, bringing his face inches from mine. I snapped my mouth shut, shaking my head furiously.  

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he hissed, gripping my face with his rough, spike-like hands. His fingers dug into my cheeks as he forced my mouth open. “This is me being nice.”  

I struggled, trying to thrash my head away, but his strength was overwhelming. The pill landed on my tongue, and before I could spit it out, he grabbed a bottle of water and poured it down my throat, leaving me no choice but to swallow.  

Instantly, my body began to betray me. My limbs grew heavy, my vision blurred, and the world tilted around me. My fear spiked as I saw him grab the saw, holding it close to my face with a manic glint in his eyes. 

 

The sound of a loud thud broke through my hazy awareness, followed by another man entering the room—a shadowy figure who seemed to radiate light. An angel?  

I felt myself being lifted, his arms strong and steady against the numbness consuming me.  

Before I knew it, I was lying in a soft bed, and a man stood over me. The pill must have caused me to hallucinate because I could have sworn it was John. Did he regret it? Did he save me?  

“John,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I wanted to ask if it was really him, to beg him to stay, to hold me—but the words remained trapped in my mind.  

The only thing that escaped my lips was a desperate plea: “Kiss me.”  

It was the last thing I said before slipping into a nightmare, and everything went blank.  

**************

I woke up in a strange room, my mind hazy and disoriented. “Where am I?” I murmured, blinking as I took in my surroundings. The space was beautiful, almost surreal. It was large and airy, like something out of a luxury hotel or a wealthy estate. The walls were painted a soft cream, decorated with abstract art in shades of gold and deep blue. At the center of the room stood the king-sized bed I was sitting on.  

I sat up slowly, a sharp pain flaring in my head. My hand instinctively reached up, and I winced as my fingers brushed against a bandage wrapped around my skull. 

My heart started to pound. “How did I get here?” I muttered under my breath.  

Then, like a floodgate opening, fragments of my memory began to return. Ava’s betrayal. The dark, suffocating basement. The horrifying image of a man standing over me, a saw poised in his hand. My breathing hitched as the memories clawed their way back, each one more vivid than the last. My eyes darted around the room. This wasn’t the basement. I wasn’t in chains anymore.  

A sound snapped me out of my thoughts—the unmistakable echo of footsteps approaching. Panic surged through me. My gaze landed on the bedside table, and without hesitation, I grabbed a heavy glass lamp, gripping it tightly as I raised it above my head. 

 

The doorknob twisted, and my pulse thundered in my ears. The door creaked open, revealing a shadowy figure stepping inside. My instincts took over, and with every ounce of strength I had, I hurled the lamp at them.  

The man stepped into the room, and as the lamp flew toward him, he caught it effortlessly, his reflexes quick. His strong, muscular arm held firmly onto the lamp. His brows furrowed as he raised his head to meet my gaze. My heart skipped a beat.  

“Good morning, Sophia,” he said, his deep voice sending chills down my spine as I froze.  

I narrowed my eyes as I observed him. He looked nothing like the man with the saw from last night. This man was tall with a strong build, deep black eyes, and a thick, well-groomed beard. His physique was like someone straight out of a firefighter magazine, and his rugged beard gave him the air of a lumberjack.  

“Who are you?” I demanded, taking cautious steps back, my mind racing to plan an escape. If the past few days had taught me anything, it was to always plan an escape.  

“I’m not here to hurt you, Sophia,” he said, his tone calm as he walked closer.  

I narrowed my eyes, taking another step back, toward the wall. “That doesn’t answer my question. Who are you?” My fists clenched at my sides in a terrible attempt to appear brave, though my heart pounded like a drum, reminding me that I had no real defense and this man was built like Hercules.  

The man raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, an amused glint in his eyes as his lips curved into a disarming smile. “I’m William,” he said casually. “You might not remember, but I saved you last night.”  

His words made me pause, my fists loosening slightly as the memory surfaced. I remembered the blurry image of him—the one I thought was an angel.  

“I remember,” I said softly. “Thank you.” I let out a sigh, feeling myself relax a little. But the calm didn’t last long. Worry crept back in as more questions filled my mind. 

 

“How were you able to save me? Why were you at that old warehouse last night?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “And how do you know my name?”