My face is pressed against the crack as I listen and watch. No sign of anybody yet, and the heater finally is starting to effect me. I'm sweating and tired. Still sore from my bruises, stabs and recent slaps and strangling. She has to come out. She can't just spend the night. It hasn't been long, perhaps he is trying to fix her food and a movie in the livingroom so she can't find anything incriminating.
I feel pathetic and stupid, spying as I am, but I have hope still. Even if it's a slight spark, it's still enough to keep me going. I debate even screaming at her when she comes out, but I know that he'll likely follow her out and come mock me. I hear the telltale creak of the screen door and I hold my breath, listening.
"Where are you going? Wait!" I hear Kellan yell.
"I'm going ho
It has been days since the teller was murdered. I have been quiet most times, not certain what to say to Kellan and certainly in no mood to comfort my captor about his sadness at eventually having to kill me. Kellan has alternated between talkative, soft, and brooding. One minute he has nothing but praise and foot rubs, the next I'm getting lashes or struck for no reason. He especially becomes angry if I refuse to tell him I love him, or that I don't remember saying it. I don't though, and I don't remember it either, but I no longer argue. He could tell me the sky was purple and I'd go in depth to describe the shades to him just to avoid the whip. He enjoys whipping me. If I am too 'good' he will purposely set me off or frighten me so he has an excuse to get his hands on me. After he does this he will pamper me. Lotions, praise, extra
I had forgotten how sore ny body was, every muscle and injury competing for attention as I back into the spindle, prepared to run again. The crack has given me hope. I can and I will bust this spindle and run. I tuck my arms to the same side and angle myself so I can use all my strength and speed without damaging my arms as badly. A fresh wave of adrenaline washes over me and I bolt. I almost squeal in delight when I hear the satisfying snap of the spindle. I pull the chains up with me and reel in the spindle shard as I take off. I bound for the woods, smart enough not to go straight down thevroad as my heart yearns to do. He would find me too easily. I can follow it from the woods. I feel guilty at leaving the girl behind, but maybe with him searching for me it'll distract from her and I can contact police. Yeah, and what about when he rolls on you for killing Bobbi? Should I try to ki
I remember very little after he brought my mom inside. He put her in the other room, and after taking anything out that could be a weapon and chaining her on one side of the room by a wrist, he left her food and let her be. He swore to me that she could walk about comfortably. She has a bathroom and bed, and a TV that he controls for her that is out of reach. It's hard to believe him though, because he lies.After telling me this, he helped me to shower and fed me soup through a straw, but I couldn't stand to use the straw. It was excruciating and I cried. So he patiently ladeled little spoons full of broth into my mouth, encouraging me to take more and more. He held the cup while I sipped my drink. The voice he spoke to me in was as smooth as the honey in the hot toddy I sipped for pain relief. It was stout, and warm. And after it slipped down my throat, a needle slipped into my skin. I fought against it in shock and fear, but soon I slipped away still coc
Mom sits at the foot of her bed, legs crossed and elbows rested on them as she eyes me warily. I can tell she is judging my appearance to find loopholes in Kellan's story. Her brow raises in disdain as she grimaces at my bruised jaw. It's godawful of course, but I expected nothing less. On a positive note, at least nobody will see it other than us. You could cut the tension with a knife. I'm almost shocked to see he had kept his word and kept her safe. Kellan slouches awkwardly by the door. I am worried though, because I can sense my mother's attitude and Kellan's lack of patience both striving to surface. Mom finally breaks the silence. "My baby. I was worried sick." She smiles too widely and blinks too slow. "You sure you okay?" "I'm positive. Are you though?"
"I would. Is there a problem?" "N-no! No. I was just telling mom how far you would go for me." "I would kill for you." He states, confirming my earlier statement. Chills roll up my spine. Mom is wary as she looks at him. I rise to my feet and approach him, subtly placing myself between he and mom. "I'm glad my daughter has found someone so dedicated. I'd kill for her too." She retorts. "I'm glad we are on the same page." He says flatly. "I'm going to borrow Alina for the evening, I'll have plenty of food and drink for you shortly." He pulls me from the room and into the living room. I'm a bit alarmed at the change in scenery, but I sit beside him on the couch. He gestures me close
The scent of warm blackberry pancakes wafts through the kitchen. The blinds are open and windows slightly cracked to allow the breeze and fresh air to enter the room. Kellan sits across the table from me in his sleep shorts, his chest bare as he stretches and takes in the scent of the pancakes. He picked these berries himself, and froze them for winter he claimed. I fixed our food this morning, he sat far back guarding the door where he would be out of range of pans or hot liquids. I've already killed two people, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that he'd be leery of me scalding him with a pancake or beating him with a hot pan. We enjoy our meal and Kellan slathers his pancakes with butter and a dollop of cream cheese mixed with his syrup. He begs for seconds, and luckily I had fixed a large enough stack that I could bring him more without having to mix a new batch. He eats and watches me with adorin
I sit in the room, knees up to my chest and chewing the inside of my jaw. My eyes are heavy and burn. I have a lingering headache that I'm quite certain is verging into migraine territory. My bottom is stinging. The sun shines through the window, MOCKING me, as I cannot quite reach the window to climb out or shut the blinds. This is it. I'm nucking futs. You know you are in peak psychological shape when you think the very sun is mocking you, and you want to fight with it. I want to fight everything. I've already been in trouble this morning for being combative and refusing to eat or drink anything that did not come prepackaged and sealed. Knowing that my mother died by poison has curbed any appetite or trust i might have had. He denied me my morning shower, and bent me over his knee like a child to try to 'discipline' me with a metal
I blink at him, chewing my inner jaw as I jolt to my chore of picking up. I'm not sure what he plans to do to me, but I'm not going to let it happen willingly. I've got tricks up my sleeve, I hope. For the first time since being taken here, I realize I might have the upper hand. If he does anything too brutal, and Dallas comes by or some investigator to ask questions about mom, they will see my battered state or injuries. He also thinks that he loves me. The last thing I should do is encourage this or exploit it, being as he is very random and explosive. I sneer to myself as I arrange the sheet shreds in the bathroom floor while he waits, unable to see me for the partially shut door. I want to reach that mirror, but I can't. So I'll settle for deception instead of attacking for now. I arrange the shreds to say 'I <3 U', knowing something this unexpected and cheesy might throttle him. P
The past few months have been a roller coaster. It has been nothing but stress and anguish. Physical and mental pain. I've had to endure so much therapy and so much attention that I can't hardly stand to leave this house anymore. I can't really even say my house, as it belongs to Dallas. It is no longer mine. My home is on the market. It was in terrible shape after the community rummaged it, investigations were conducted, and horror enthusiasts from all over broke in to take photos and party. That being said, lack of my own hone, confidence and privacy have lead me into a violent depression. One minute I am low, and the next I am literally ready to fight on short notice. My therapist threw a bunch of large terms out there, but I couldn't focus. I tire of being scrutinized and the entire time he inspected me I longed to jab an ink pen between his teeth to remove thst insufferable bit of kale. He became 'especially conc
"Yeah. Yeah. I will call you when I have updates. I promise, I am fine. She will be too. I'll call you again later. Yeah. I swear, alright? Love you too, bye. " The voice breaks me from my slumber, and I bolt up only to lose my vision. Something is in my arm. Im tied still! I feel stinging on my arm as I go back down, and alarms beep. It's Dallas. That's his voice. He can't be here, Kellan will kill him! "You...you have to...leave. Leave...he'll...""Hey! Shhh...shhhhhh. He'll do nothing. You aren't there anymore." I can feel tightness in my chest, and my breath quivers. I want to open my eye, but I'm scared. I'm afraid of what I might see. Feet rush into the room, and this finally is enough to make me look.Nurses. Nurses? An IV is hooked, barely, into my arm. The crappy hospital lighting is harsh and I groan as I blink away 'film' over my eyes
*Kellan's POV* "Alina!" I shout, as her body tumbles from the window. I rush across the room on instinct, but it is too late. She lays, sprawled motionless on the ground below and my breath catches. My chest heaves and panic sets in. I was willing to kill her, but couldn't do it. I had stalled and tried to talk myself up, but I couldn't. I had thought she was bluffing, but she had the fortitude I locked and she did my job for me. Creature barks and rubs circles in the room, confused, but sensing something wrong. "Alina!" I scream again. My mind is in two places. I want to rush down to her, to see if she's still with me. I also know I should run. If I can't save her, I am wasting time. She could be dead. Dallas was right, I need to get out of here. Squandering my time will only have let Alina possibly die in vain, but I don't want to leave her.
If my heart beats any faster, I will die. I just know it. My heart slams in my chest so hard that it's difficult breathe and remain quiet. I'm having issues getting enough air glow around the shirt, and my nose is stuffy from so much crying recently. Sweat freckles my forehead and I can feel most of me trembling. This is the moment I've both dreamed of, and dreaded. I'll either be free, incarcerated or dead soon I imagine. Kellan plants a chaste kiss on my forehead before answering the cellphone."Hello, Dallas." If I were a dog my ears would perk up. I try so hard to catch anything I can, but it's difficult to hear over my own heart."No. I found the dog, thanks for so thoughtfully returning him. How did you find me?""Aren't telling me? How bold. I see you've finally grown some balls. Let me put this in terms even you can understand. Y
Kellan stood hovering until I was able to drink the broth. I had it everywhere, but I clutched the cup for life unwilling to let him assist. Things were unsettling before, but they have went completely nerve wrecking now. He nearly killed me, twice, no three times. Again. And that was just the last day in the woods and chopping my leg off. Now he expects me to help him kill Dallas, all for a flash drive that I had planted in the box. How did he get it though? Didn't Kellan pack everything? Did he leave the box out for Dallas? "You're really going to meet him?" I ask, testing the water. Kellan laughs. "Fuck no. You think I'm stupid? You know he has been in cohorts with authorities now and that this is a ruse to get me out every they can ambush me. However you've mostly been ignoring me, and I knew this would get your attention. Now, that I
*Dallas's POV* Don't hate me, we go back in time a bit here. I exited the woods as quickly as I could, with emergency personnel on call and attempting to contact the helicopter that was scanning deeper into the woods. I quickly relay what I know about the policemen and direly injured Alina, and I pray they come quickly enough and with backup to apprehend Kellan and retrieve her safely. I hope she is right. She's never lied to me, to my knowledge, and she swore he didn't want to kill her. Still, I panic and regret my decision to listenvt9 her and leave her behind. I regret myself for being too legal minded to have just hunted that bastard down abd shot him. As I wait, and pick myself apart, an idea hits me. I retrieve my cellphone and pull my sim from it. I run as fast as I can to the cabin, and search for Kellan's truck. I could tuck my phone in it
I'm cold. I'm cold and it's dark. I can't bear to open my eyes yet, so I just exist. Feeling my body jar about on a smooth, chilly surface. What happened? I'm still alive? I don't quite understand yet, but I know I was supposed to be dead. I even feel dead. My body is sore, and numb at the same time. My mouth dry and a piece of fabric tied around my head covers it. No. I shiver. I try to stretch but I realize that I am bound. I can't move. I can't feel my lower half. I panic and try to thrash about, but I can do nothing but shimmy a few inches across the cool surface. A bump jars me again and I plop down roughly from the impact. Am I in a vehicle? I whimper and try to focus my eyes, and to my luck a faint light enters through what I imagine is glass somewhere. My head throbs with the invasion, but soon I
*let's start with Kellan again* I halt with the saw just touching bone as a screech fills the room. My face contorted with horror, followed by fury as I realize it is Keenan messing with me. I shake my head and start again, wincing as I push the blade through the bone. Her little leg shakes at the force, but she is still out. Despite the tourniquet, there's still mess and it eats at me to see it. To see her like this. To do this. If I hadn't, she would set up sepsis. She would have died. In a way, I saved her life. It certainly does not feel like it. Finally, through the bone the rest goes smoothly and the offensive rotting area is removed. My hands still shake aside place the saw on a nearby bag and use a clean part of my arm to wipe my sweat. Keenan immedi
I taste the copper in my mouth, long before the slap takes place. In my haste to free myself of Kellan's hand, I bit him which immediately triggered the slap. I'm so used to hurting now that I do not spare a moment to recover, as I scream with everything left in me at the low flying chopper. I can feel my chest deflate as it shows no sign of having seen me or anyone having heard me. Irate, Kellan begins his merciless beating and I know somehow this is it. I'm dead. I miscalculated, again, and now I'll pay. I want to beg to him for some bit of mercy, to tell him that I'm sorry and I understand. That I know now why I have to be trained and disciplined. Polished. I am a fool and a failure, the hole I dig myself is far worse than the fate I tried to avoid. I grab at his boot in vain as it collides over and over with my face. The last thing I see is the sole of his boot and his scowl as he hovers