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When I was alone, I told myself over and over that at least I was alive, and at least he hadn’t touched me or tortured me. All he did was draw blood once in a while. It was my mantra – “I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. That’s all that matters.” I was slowly losing it, though. I had nightmares and woke up drenched in sweat, wishing I was dead. Twice I’d had half the mind to ask him to kill me. Just kill me and be done with it. I only stopped myself from saying it out loud because I knew he needed me, so he wouldn’t do it. I’d just be degrading myself even more asking for it.
I kept trying to remember details about my life. My wound had stopped throbbing, and the headaches were nearly gone. All things considered, my body was doing one hell of a job healing. A few things started coming back to me...
I was Maya Lucas, and I was a kindergarten teacher. Yes, that was right. The memory came to me in a flash of colors – children laughing and playing, singing and asking me questions about all the things under the sun. I knew it was true because when I remembered the children’s faces, I felt my heart fill with love and joy. Names came to me, too. Sara, and Hannah, and Norbert. My favorite students. They say a teacher shouldn’t have favorites, but of course I did. All the other teachers did, too. Christina. That was one of my colleagues. We sometimes went out for coffee. I considered her my friend.
Did they miss me? Only if I was a good teacher. I believed I was. I felt it deep in my heart. I tried to unearth more memories, but my mind drew a blank again. It didn’t want to cooperate more than it was ready to cooperate. I wondered if it was because of the concussion, or if my captor was doing something to me, giving me drugs I wasn’t aware of. The food and water could’ve contained anything.
For hours, I entertained myself with the few memories of my young students playing and chasing each other, pulling at my sleeve or my pants when they wanted something and were too enthusiastic to wait. These images kept me sane. The hours passed, and I replayed the scenes in my head over and over, while repeating to myself in the background, “I am alive, I am alive.”
Then I heard the key in the lock, and my heart skipped a beat. Every time he came to see me, even if he brought food and water, he also brought me back to this room and reminded me I wasn’t a free woman anymore. He had his medical kit with him.
“I need a bit more blood, Maya. I hope that’s okay.”
I didn’t have the strength to look at him and confront him with my usual death glare. He untied me, made me nod a promise that I wouldn’t scream, then removed the duct tape. I smacked my lips and accepted the bottle of water he offered.
“How about I don’t tie you back up this time? Promise you’ll be a good, silent girl, and I won’t even cuff you. You can roam around the room for the first time. What do you think?”
“I’d like that,” I whispered.
He helped me sit on the mattress, filled a tube with my blood, and even put cream on the wounds around my wrists. The metal cuffs had bitten into my skin so many times that it was raw and bruised.
“Eat.”
It felt like such a miracle to have my hands completely free for once. I ate quickly because I knew he didn’t like spending more than half an hour with me at a time. I looked peaceful on the outside, maybe even grateful, but my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Now that I was free to roam, I could finally reach the door. I knew it was unlocked. He never locked it when he was in here, but that was because he always kept me cuffed. Was this an oversight on his part?
I also knew something else. Every time he came down to the basement, he told the bodyguard to take a break. He once told him loud enough that I could hear him.
This was my chance. It could’ve been my only chance. The door was unlocked, I was fed, and the guard was on his break. If I took my captor by surprise, I could push him to the ground before he knew what was happening, rush to the door, and then up the stairs – because, of course, there would be stairs. Could I do it? Was I strong enough? Was I fast enough?
I had to try.
I couldn’t think, I just had to do it. I needed a distraction, something that would throw him off, even for a moment. I reached for the bottle of water. It was half full, with the cap off since I’d just drunk from it. Making my hand shake visibly, I knocked it over, causing it to roll away from the mattress, water spilling everywhere.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to... I feel so weak...”
He shook his head and reached for the bottle. That was my cue. I jumped to my feet, pushed him away with one hand, and sprinted to the door. For a second, I thought I was going to make it. My knees felt like jelly, and my feet tingled from being tied up around my ankles for so many hours, but I pushed on. I gave it my all.
He caught me from behind, his hand gripping my shirt. I heard the fabric rip, and I slammed into the door. I scrambled for the door handle, but he wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me away.
“Help!” I started screaming, even though I knew no one could hear me. “No! Let go! Let go of me, please! I can’t take this anymore! Help! Help!”
All I managed was to bang on the door a few times. The door handle was out of my reach, and then he was dragging me back into the depths of the room, slamming me into the chair that I hated so much. I fought him with all my might, which meant very little, since I was so weak that I didn’t even comprehend how my body wasn’t falling apart. He overpowered me easily and secured my hands first, then my feet. I slumped in the chair as he taped my mouth.
“I don’t appreciate this at all, Maya. You promised you would behave, and then you did the opposite. I don’t enjoy doing this to you, you know. I would’ve let you move freely around the room, sleep comfortably with your hands uncuffed. Look what you’re making me do. I wanted to be nice to you, show you kindness, and you had to disappoint me.”
I started crying silently. My vision was blurry, my head hurt, and I was exhausted. I just wanted him to go and leave me with my shame.
I’d failed. There was no escaping this nightmare. And now that I’d proved to him I couldn’t be trusted, I was worse off.
Chapter Seven
Mason
How could I play this? I only had minutes to decide.
The woman Lockwood kept in the room didn’t want to be here. She was in pain, close to her limit. Could I trust him that he was doing this because she deserved it? Because she’d hurt his mother somehow, and now he was exacting revenge? He was odd for a human. Generally, humans were emotional compared to monsters. They let themselves be led by their feelings. But Lockwood had shown no feelings since I’d met him. He was hard to read.
I needed to see the captive with my own eyes. If I couldn’t read him, then maybe I could read her. The way she screamed, begged, and banged on the door made me feel rage deep inside my belly. She was helpless, and he was torturing her. I had to do something, but I had to be smart about it. I had no idea what was going on here.
