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“P-please, Warren, you don’t want to do this.”
“You don’t know what the fuck I want, Ken. You never did.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to pull the plug and watch the Jaggers unravel. Then I’m going to deliver you to Conner piece by bloody piece.”
Bile crawls up my throat again, but I manage to swallow it down this time.
“So what are you waiting for?” I scream. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it. JUST DO IT AND PUT ME OUT OF MISERY.” My chest heaves with the weight of my words. I can’t do this. I can’t be kept here like an animal. I’d rather die.
Warren cocks his head and studies me, but then he clicks his tongue. “You’re not getting out of it that easy, baby. I want to have some fun first.”
I don’t know how long I lie here in the cage. Warren disappears now and again, and I drift in and out. The floor is cold and hard beneath me, and the pain in my ribs is getting worse. I don’t complain, though. We’re beyond any civility.
Earlier, Warren pushed a bowl of water and crackers into the cage. Not only does he have me penned up like an animal, he’s treating me like one. But I sipped the water and ate a couple. If I want to stay lucid, I need to stave off the hunger pangs and dehydration.
“What time is it?” I ask in the silence. Warren is in here somewhere; I can feel him lurking in the shadows. A sliver of moonlight bounces in through a hole in the roof, but it barely lights up the vast room.
It’s still nighttime, but I have no idea how long I’ve been here.
“Warren, please,” I cry.
He finally steps out of the shadows, his lip curled with disgust. “You look like shit,” he spits. “Maybe I should just slit your throat and be done with it.” His arm lashes out and he runs a blade across the bars, the noise rattling through my skull.
“Please,” I beg, no longer sure whether I’m begging for my life or my death.
“Or maybe I should fuck the life right out of you. Would you like that, Ken, baby? Would you like me to feed you my dick while I slice you open and watch you bleed?”
I retch into my hand. This isn’t the Warren I know. This is someone worse. Someone sick and twisted with no regard for life.
He moves around the cage, jabbing the knife sharply through the bars. I move with him, trying to avoid his lashes. Curling myself tightly into a ball, I wait him out. I think I’m at a safe distance, until I feel the blade nick the back of my shoulder. I lurch forward, but he darts around the cage, following me. Tears drip down my cheeks as he taunts me.
“Maybe I’ll fuck you with it.” He places the flat of the knife on his tongue and drags it across his flesh.
Fear cripples me. Warren is bad. Rotten to the core. I know that. Yet, I can’t help but think I’ve only scratched the surface of his true perversities, and that’s what terrifies me most.
He watches me for another few minutes, playing with the knife like it’s a child’s toy. Finally, he grows bored, turning his attention to something deeper in the room.
I roll onto my side and close my eyes. Everything hurts, but as my eyes flutter closed, I know it’s only going to get worse.
The next time I wake, it’s significantly lighter. The edges of the warehouse still sit in darkness, but I can see more clearly now. Clear enough to realize the cage has been left open.
“Warren?” I call, only to be greeted with silence. “Warren?” I crawl to the edge of the cage, gently patting the floor beyond the cage walls.
My body aches, screaming at me to stop when I start to clamber to my feet. I inhale a shaky breath as I search the warehouse. There’s a bunch of racks separating the cage from the rest of the room, but I can just about see Warren through the shelves. He’s hunched over a desk, busy typing away on a keyboard. He doesn’t hear me approach, nor does he hear me cry every time my ribs stretch and contract.
The tap tap tap of keys fills the air and still, he doesn’t look back. I try to make sense of whatever he’s doing but the screen is a jumble of letters and numbers on a black screen. I strain my eyes to try to decipher them, but it’s futile.
Then something on the wall catches my eye. “What is this?” My voice trembles as I move closer. It’s a web of string joining together photographs and newspaper cuttings. There are even some handwritten notes. From a distance, it looks like a collection of unrelated, nonsensical information. But upon closer inspection, I can see that isn’t the case at all.
“I see you found it.” Warren startles me, catapulting my heart into my throat.
“W-what is it?” I’m pretty sure I know, but I don’t understand.
“Don’t play dumb, Ken. I know you’re better than that.” His hand curves around the back of my neck and he pushes me forward.
“Y-you—”
