Prolouge

The door shifted open, the noise echoing loudly off the cold, damp walls. A stream of light poured into the basement, the only light I've been able to see since I've been locked down here for three days. 

My ankle was raw from the constant rubbing of the harsh metal against my skin, turning it into a mixture of dark red and purple. My once nice and filed nails were chewed down the the nubs out of fear and nervousness. 

I backed away from the source of light, already knowing who was coming down. My breath hitched in my throat as fear once again pumped through my veins, making my heart beat loudly and hard against my chest. I could hear the pounding in my ears and the fear bubbling in my stomach. 

He was absolutely psychotic. I begged him with tears streaming down my face to let me go when he threw me down here but even then I knew it was no hope. In a sick, twisted way, he enjoyed hearing me scream behind the metal door until my throat went raw. 

He left me in the dark, very well knowing I hated it. 

I couldn't sleep. How could I? All I was given was an itchy, thin blanket that looked like it was mauled by multiple dogs. The eerie feeling this basement gave me always kept me on edge. I was so exhausted but everytime my eyes closed, I would hear movement upstairs making my eyes instantly snap open again. 

I could hear his visitors upstairs, unknowingly walking on top of my own personal prison cell. Even though he never physically hurt me, he knew exactly how to get underneath my skin, how to make my insides churn and twist. 

I didn't know this man who'd stare at me with the most spine-chilling smile. I knew his name but I loathed the way it felt in my mouth. It made my head go dizzy and my hands clam up. 

The door was closed shut, the noise startling me from my thoughts. I tried to move as far as I could but the chain attached to my ankle prevented me. I winced in pain as my bone knocked against the thick metal cuff. 

He was humming an unrecognizable tune, the steps creaking underneath his weight after every step he took. He was carrying a metal tray in his arms. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and willed my tears back. I couldn't speak nor scream. The walls were sound proof, deeming it useless but even then I wouldn't be able to find my voice. 

There was only one window but it was barricaded off and full of grime and dust. I couldn't make anything outside of the window and I was sure no one on the outside could see anything. 

He set the tray down on a table that I couldn't reach. It looked old with the legs uneven sizes, leaning left to right when he put weight on it. I turned away from him when he made his usual eye contact. Hatred filled my entire body. 

I felt like he could understand and hear what went through my mind. This man knew me so well but I couldn't say the same. I never even noticed he was there. He was the figure that lurked in the shadows at night. He was the monster parents told their children stories about in hopes of getting them to sleep. 

He was the person I thought I'd never had to meet. The person everyone warned me about in this stupid town. 

It was infuriating how he acted so calm, considering I'm not his first victim. It made me want to scream but I was so tired. My face was stiff from all the dry tears and my lips were chapped, probably from the lack of water. 

When I turned away, my eyes instantly landed at the scariest chair I've ever encountered. It still had the handcuffs attached to the arm rests, the metal glinting in the little light I had. 

I've only been locked up in that chair once and that was the second day I was kept down here.

I hated every second of it. I couldn't do anything but scream and plead for him to let me go. I stayed there all night and all day. The bruises were still on my wrists and ankles since I was constantly tugging on them. He even went as far as to tie my head against the headrest to prevent me from hurting myself even more. 

At least now I could move a little. 

He went back up the stairs and shut the door, locking it. He shoved the key back into his pocket which was attached to a chain, meaning he was smart enough to know that if I was stupid enough to attempt stealing it, I wouldn't make it far. 

Turning to the right, he flicked on the light. A single light bulb that hung from a string of wire came to life, a couple of flies and moths instantly circling around it. 

He came back down the steps and pushed over a table that was by the farthest wall so that it was within my reach. He went back to the same wall and brought over two chairs. Going back a third time, he picked up the tray and set it down on the table in front of him. 

I knew this routine. 

He went over to his chair and sat in it, not breaking eye contact with me. 

I merely gulped even though my throat was dry. Peering on top of the table, I saw food on the tray. My stomach instantly growled as my mouth began to water. I didn't know if I could trust him with my food. For all I knew, it could be poisoned. 

But death right now seemed like a good option. At least then I wouldn't be tortured by not knowing what was going to happen to me. 

All of his victims were murdered and never found. Those blades and petrifying tools were on another tray near the very back of the basement, way out of my reach. 

I had been able to steal a glance at them and I had to cover my mouth that day to keep me from screaming out. I didn't want to anger him and cause him to lash out at me. There was fresh blood on it, a puddle already gathering on the tray they were set on. 

"Sit and eat," he said in a stern voice that made me jump. 

I just stared at him, blinking every so often with my hands shaking. I balled them into fists and held them at my sides. But my whole body shook in fear and he knew that. 

"You haven't been eating well. You need to be healthy," he spoke again but with a monotone voice. 

That part was true. I couldn't find the appetite to eat when he brought me food. I usually ate bits and pieces and would leave the rest on the tray. He gave me no utensils so like an animal, I ate with my dirty hands. 

I got on my knees and slowly stood up, my knees and back cracking in the process. Sparks shot through my limbs from the cold concrete beneath my feet. My knees hurt terribly since they were all bruised and scratched up. 

I was only wearing my pajama shorts that stopped mid thigh with a navy tank top that was filthy. The cold air bit at my skin, sending goosebumps throughout my entire body. 

Every small step I took, the chain rattled loudly causing me to wince. He never broke eye contact with me after I slowly made my way to the chair. 

I pulled it out and sat at the very edge, not touching the table. I hung my head, my black hair covering my eyes. I tried to stop the tears but I couldn't. 

I could practically feel his breath on my skin even though he was about two feet away from me. Looking up slightly, I saw that he had brought me something that resembled old oatmeal with, again, no utensils. A piece of bread sat next to it with a cup of water on the other side. 

My stomach growled loudly and painfully, making me clutch my stomach. I was losing weight drastically and I had become dangerously skinny. If I stood up too quickly, I'd become light headed and black spots would cloud my sight. But it wasn't the three days that I've been down here that caused me to lose weight. 

Yes it didn't help but I ate very little even before I was kidnapped. Just listening to the chatter on the streets of this town about the serial killer that had came back made me nervous and jumpy. It was hard for me to eat in that mindset hence why I was extremely skinny now. 

This man hated it. He was obviously annoyed with the fact I wasn't taking care of my body which was another reason why he was psychotic. He told me he wanted me to be the way I was before. 

Meaning before I was kidnapped in the middle of a Friday night. 

I longed for my old life. I knew I moved into this small town for a fresh start but I regretted with every fiber in my body for actually doing it. My life before wasn't as bad as to where I was now. 

Locked in a basement with an insane guy who was to kill me if I didn't do as he said or pleased him. 

I looked up to see that my vision was blurry. Sniffling quietly, I wiped my eyes, getting rid of the tears building up. 

"Tsk tsk tsk. Crying so early are we?" he chuckled, bringing his folded arms on top of the table. 

I sat up a bit taller and looked him in the eyes for the first time that day. They were empty and cold, showing no signs of remorse. 

Yet I couldn't say for sure; his mood always changed drastically. It was awful and terrifying. 

He stared back at me, a playful smirk on his face. 

He looked up wistfully in a sarcastic way and opened his mouth to speak. "I know it's not your favorite. I've seen what you like to cook through that window of yours and it's definitely not oatmeal." 

My insides churned as I realized he was always there, watching me from the sidelines, learning every little thing about me yet never showing his face. 

Licking my lips, I picked at my nails under the table as I glanced down at the food. It wasn't the most appealing but from previous nights, I knew it didn't taste terrible. 

"Oh c'mon, Violet. These little games you play don't help you. Just eat. I know you're hungry," he cooed, shifting his head to the right in a mocking way. 

"You don't know me," I snapped quietly, my head jerking up to stare at him. 

I may have been absolutely scared out of my mind but how he made my skin crawl bothered me. 

His smile disappeared and instead he glared at me. By now I knew he wouldn't physically hurt me, not by his own hand anyway. It gave me a bit of courage knowing I wouldn't be too injured to the point where I was hopeless

"I do know you, Violet. Very well in fact. You'll see-" 

"You don't know me!" I shouted as I stood up, the chair falling behind me. 

My yell echoed softly but quickly disappeared. The chain once again sending shots of pain from the sudden movement. My head started pounding due to standing up too quickly but I ignored it as best as I could. 

"You don't know me and I don't know you! Why me?!" I screamed, hot tears falling down my stained cheeks. 

He instantly sat up too, towering over me with his enormous build. My spur of confidence immediately disappeared into thin air. 

"Enough you ungrateful brat!" he spat, bringing his hand around and slapping me across the face.

The slap knocked me to the ground, a yelp escaping my quivering lips. My hand shot up to my face, carefully gripping it. The tears continued to leak out of my red eyes as a prickling feeling erupted around my cheek. 

He was quick to kneel down to my level, gripping my face and forcing me to look at him. 

"I have done everything for you. Everything!" he hissed, his eyes dark. 

"And yet you still try and deny me. You should LOVE me! I give you everything that other guy gives you." As the words came out in a seething way, I felt his fingers grow tighter around my face. 

"I give you even more. He doesn't love you like I do. You are nothing but a toy for him to toss aside when he gets bored of you." 

"You're wrong," I whispered, my hands grasping his arm that still held my face. 

"He loves me and is a better man than you-" 

"Where is your lover now?" he sneered, his faces inches from mine. 

"You will never be him," I retorted in a louder voice. 

He grinned evilly. "I already am." 

"No you're not! You'll never be him and you'll never have me! I won't let you!" I screamed loudly, hitting his arm with frustration and anger. I was going hysterical. My chest felt tight and every inch of my skin felt as if it was on fire, my head pounding painfully now. 

"Where is he?!" 

"He'll find me. The man who truly loves me," I sniffled,"will find me." 

He stopped his movements quickly, showing no emotion in his face. But all of a sudden, his body racked with laughter.

He threw his head back, his laugh shaking his whole body until he leaned back into me. His hand repositioned into softer grip, his fingers tracing my jawline carefully. 

"I already found you." 

He leaned in closer, his lips and scruff itching my ear. 

"And I'm never letting you go."

Author's Note

not sure if I got the 'suspense' feel. feedback is much appreciated loves. (:

Reviews

[Skull Writer]

I'll be honest. I think your story is really catchy and I do for sure want to know more but I don't really get much of a feeling of suspense yet. So far I have connected with Violet in the sense that I feel bad for her. But I don't feel her anger until those last few lines. Those last few lines are very good as they give the reader that ability to connect and understand her hatred of this crazy person who has kidnapped her.