Him

I'm stuck in a cell with no way out, why am I here?

As I awoke, the metallic taste from before was still on my tongue and lips.  My lip felt swollen and my head ached.  I must have been knocked out, but why? Where am I? I don't remember how I got here, but where is "here"? I wondered. Maybe that was the goal.  My body was radiating with heat, although the room was not at an uncomfortable temperature.

I felt the chains, rubbing over the chafed skin of my wrists.  I pulled them from the source, a wall.  They weren't coming loose, so why was I trying?

My blood ran cold as I noticed, in the dim lighting, that the ground around me was spattered with blood.  Is that mine?  Some of it was too far away to be mine.  I then see on the left and right sides of the cell, two more pairs of chains.  Why would someone need to chain up more than one person?

I screamed at the top of my lungs, but as I did, I had a sense that no one on this Earth would hear me.  I was going to die down here in this cell, chained to the wall like an animal.  I stopped screaming, prayed to God that whoever did this to me, will suffer a similar fate, only worse, and put my head down.

As one feeling passed, another one entered.  The feeling that someone was watching me drowned me, suffocated even.  

I looked around in a state of panic, eager to find the monster who could possibly be watching a 20-year-old girl, chained to wall, and on her way to a certain, and slow death.  I yelled "Help me! Please!"

No movement, no response.

"Is someone there?" 

Only a slight hum from, what I assume to be a generator, powering this God forsaken dungeon.

"What do you want from me? Money? I can give you that! Just let me go!"

   

Then I heard footsteps. They were getting louder, and so was my heartbeat in my ears. 

As the steps got closer I had so many things that I wanted to say to this pervert, but fear petrified me, and I couldn't form words even if I wanted to.  

The footsteps reach the front of the cell, and before me stands, what appears to be a man, of great stature. Once he came in front of the cage, most of the light was blocked out and all that I could see was a shadow figure. He has to be at least 9 feet tall and about 300-400 pounds.  I am an ant in comparison. 

"What do you want with me?"

He didn't speak, he just stood there. I became furious with his silence.

"If you're going to kill me, just do it!"

I should've just stayed quite. He then opened the cell door and my heart dropped into my stomach.  

My level of panic had hit the maximum.  He was coming right toward me. All I could do was squirm, wiggle, and hope that these chains would come loose. I could outrun him, but these chains were sturdy.  In all this terror, I did notice that he walked with a limp. Did I hurt him in our fight? He stopped only a few feet from me and I could see more details about him.

His face was covered by some sort of potato sack, his arms were shorter than most peoples' but very bulky, and his head wasn't proportionate with any of his other body parts.  I could also see a line around his neck with nicks on either side of it. My first thought was that it looked like a scar, but as he came closer, it appeared to be stitching.  This doesn't make any sense.  What is he?

He drew a large machete from behind him, that was tucked inside his waistband, and he made his way closer to me. He held the machete over his shoulder as if about to swing.

With my hands held out as if to protect myself, I then yelled "Stop! At least tell me why you're doing this!"

I opened my eyes and peaked around my hands to see that he had stopped mid-swing.  After a second of him staring at me, he lowered the weapon, turned, and walked to the right side wall.  He pulled off his glove to expose his disfigured, grotesque hand with fingernails that looked like they hadn't been trimmed in months.  They were thick too.  

The scraping noise pierced my eardrums as his fingernails grated against the grey brick. He must not be able to speak, I thought.  I couldn't see from behind his haunting figure so I waited until he was done.  He turned around, and drew the machete one final time as I read the message on the wall.

"NEED PARTS"

  

Author's Note

Honest opinions please, even if they aren't the nicest. Grammar, punctuation, word choice, monologue, "dialogue", everything.