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Josh
“Fuck me,” I groan as consciousness starts to seep in, my eyes slowly blinking open. Why the fuck does my head hurt so damn much? Raising my hand up towards the pounding in my temples, I’m jerked back as my arm is halted.
My eyes then snap open. What the fuck? My arms are tied down to a chair. Attempting to kick out with my feet, I look down. Motherfucker! Realisation sinks in. I’m trapped. Then, I remember how I got here.
I search the darkness of the room I’m in. I’m alone. But I know that fucker is watching from somewhere. “I’m going to fucking enjoy washing my hands in your blood, you fucking asshole!” My scream echoes off the walls.
Fuck! Emmy’s face, a vision of pure innocence, comes to mind. She’s going to be bloody pissed that I’m late for what is meant to be our marriage ceremony. I’m going to enjoy slaughtering this fucker even more. He’s made me late for my wedding day. For marrying Emily. The one thing I’ve wanted to do since I was sixteen.
Wherever the fuck he is, I’m sure he won’t be far. If he thinks he’s going to break me, he picked the wrong fucking guy. I’m un-fucking-breakable. Let him bring his worst. I’ve already met the devil. I was bloody well raised by him. I’m the spawn of Satan himself. I laugh into the empty room.
I wonder just how pissed Emily is going to be about me missing our appointment… I focus on wiggling my toes and fingers slightly, to keep the blood flowing. The last thing I need is to get out of these binds and then not be able to fucking move because my limbs give out on me.
There has to be something around here I can use to get myself out of this mess. I can’t see shit. There’s a slither of light creeping under what must be the door, but other than that, there’s nothing. Pure darkness. The room is cold, but I’ve been colder. It stinks like mildew. Stale, wet air. What I wouldn’t do to bury my head in Emily’s hair and get a whiff of that fruity, raspberry scent she always seems to smell like. If I close my eyes and imagine it hard enough, I can almost trick myself into believing that’s the scent I’m smelling right now.
* * *
I must have dozed off,because I come to with a start when I hear the doorknob wiggling around. It’s playtime, motherfucker. This is probably going to hurt a little. Pain can be good though; pain means you’re alive.
The light that comes on as soon as the door opens blinds me. I have to squint my eyes to see the shadow of the fucker who thinks he’ll survive this. I don’t need to see him though. I already know who the fuck this dead man walking is.
“Nice of you to finally wake up. I’ve been waiting. I don’t like to be kept waiting. You see, Joshua, when I get bored, I tend to find young, pretty things to keep me occupied. To alleviate the monotony.”
My eyes are trained on his face. It’s odd… I’ve never met anyone who’s more psychotic than I am. But this dipshit certainly takes the cake. He’s as nutty as they come. He pauses his sentence as he hefts on a rope he’s dragging behind him.
“This one here is your fault, Joshua. You shouldn’t have kept me waiting,” he says, kicking the body of a young woman. She lets out a whimper. She’s still alive… If he’s expecting me to react, he’s underestimated me.
I shrug my shoulders up and down the best I can while my arms are fucking tied to a chair. “It seems more like a you problem than a me problem.”
“Oh, you’re funny.” He drops the rope and walks closer to me, bending down into my face. I smile. This is exactly where I wanted him.
“You should have given her over when I asked. Now, I’m going to enjoy making you watch as I fuck her battered and bruised body. She was promised to me. She belongs to me. Not you,” he spits with visible anger.
My head leans back then forward with as much force as I can gather. I hear the crunch of bone as my forehead smashes into his nose. My vision blurs. Fuck, I probably shouldn’t have used my head. But seeing the blood currently running out of his nose makes the pain worth it.
“You will never get your hands on her,” I growl out.
His fist comes flying at me, connecting with my jaw. I can’t duck or dodge the hit. I just have to sit here and cop it. My head snaps to the side. Spitting on the floor, I straighten my neck and smile at the asshole. I can see I’m already pissing him off. He’s only been in the room for two minutes, and I’ve already managed to fuck with his head.
I look to the girl on the ground. I have no feelings towards her. No empathy. The only thing I can muster is relief. Relief that she’s not Emily.
“You know, Emily doesn’t even know you exist. Why is it that you think you have a claim to her, exactly?” I’ve been going out of my mind, trying to figure out what his connection to Emily is.
“I told you. She was promised to me. He was supposed to give her to me. We had a deal. All I want is the girl. So, how about we speed this along, and you tell me where the fuck you have my girl?”
My blood boils at him referring to Emily as his girl. I can’t let that shit show. I have to remain calm and unaffected if I want to make it out of here in one piece, and preferably still fucking breathing.
“You might as well go ahead and kill me, because I’ll never tell you where she is. You will never get near her.” Staring him down, I dare him to make a move closer to me again. He doesn’t.
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s only a matter of time before she’s alone again. You left her at the altar, after all. How long do you think she’ll wait for you, huh? Either she’s going to walk away and forget you existed. Or she’ll come looking for you. Don’t worry, I’ll punish her regardless of the option she chooses.”
He bends down to the girl currently on the floor, curled up in a foetal position. She flinches as his hands reach out and run down her arm. “It’s a shame really, such a waste of a good girl. But I was bored, and you were there. You served me well but it’s time for you to go.” I watch as he pulls out a knife. Bringing it down to where her hands are bound, he slices both of her wrists.
Her screams pierce the air, blood spilling out of her forearms, down over her hands, and pooling on the floor around her. With wide eyes, she looks up at me. I can’t help her. There’s a slight flicker of helplessness settling within me. Where the fuck that came from, I have no idea.
I clamp that down tight. I don’t need now to be the time I start to feel shit I have no business feeling. Instead, I watch, unaffected, as life fades out of her. I don’t avoid looking; it’s not like I haven’t seen a dead body or two before.
The reaction of the detective is disturbing as hell. He’s getting off on the fact that he just killed her. I can see it in his heavier breathing, in his dilated pupils. It’s fucking sickening.
