Across the room from where I sit, bound to a pole and shirtless, a TV flickers to life as a man descended the rotting stairs. The man stands in front of me listening to the News on the TV while it talks about the recent string of murders, talking to the families and helping them through the grief of losing sons and daughters. I struggle in my bonds, trying to get my hands free, meanwhile biting my tongue to keep myself from speaking and making my capture angry and make him chose to stab my shoulder again, especially since his favorite knife is so close. As the man turns the TV back off I hear a muffled cry of whom I can only assume is the next 'toy' for the man to mentally torture me with. I accidentally, hardly audible and hoarse my voice is, blurt out one word as the man walks in the direction of the curtain to my side, "Wait." All he does is glance at me and continue to pull back the curtain to reveal a young woman, just waking up to find herself tied up in this cellar.
"What do you mean, 'wait'? This would be the first time you told me to 'wait'. Why is that?" The masked man says as he picks up his knife from the table next to the girl. "Maybe you know her? That'd make things interesting." The man chimes as he then looks at me, grabbing me by the hair, and lifting me almost to my feet, before dropping me back to the cold, concrete floor, and I'm not very short making the fall seem pretty high if you're stuck sitting for as long as I have. I just shake my head, telling the man that I don't know her. The man then takes his knife to the girl and starts the 'show' all over, at this point all I can do is close my eyes and block out the sound of the girl's muffled screaming as the man tortures her, I'm not proud to admit it, but at this point I'm very good at blocking it out. Moments later I feel a chill run down my spine as a wet hand is placed on my shoulder. Startled, I jump and open my eyes, only to be face to face with my masked tormentor, only inches apart.
"Hey Kevin, do you remember your whole class, back in middle school?" The man asks, I nod in reply, that being all I could do. "There was a kid, bullied by everyone, how about him?"
"Barely, but yes." My hoarse voice says as I shift off of my scraped up knees and out of his grip.
"That's good to know, anyway I have to go now. Don't worry, I have a gift for you later." The man says as he gets to his feet and heads up the stairs. What feels like hours go by where I just sit there, letting myself cry, but sometime during that I let myself look over at the girl, she's just sitting there, unable to move and bleeding, bleeding badly. Not long after I looked over at the girl for the last time, the man returns with food and a box. No matter how empty my stomach was, I couldn't bring myself to eat, even when the man force feeds me. "You can't starve yourself, not anymore, I won't let you." The man didn't sound like his normal chipper-self, but more depressed, I guess that's how I would put it. Anyway, after he finally got me to eat something, he opened the box, pulling out a muzzle type mask thing, I don't know what people call them anymore. You probably know what he did with it though, when he put it on me, he pulled it so tight it hurt, feeling like he was trying to crush my skull.
After another month of the same routine: The man comes downstairs in the morning turning on the TV, removing my mask and making sure I eat, checking to see if the other person is dead or not, if they are replacing them with someone else and disposing the body, making sure the mask is back on me before leaving again, returning later in the day with food again making sure I eat, then starts the 'show', and the occasional poke and prod at me with his knife. This routine has become so natural now that I don't even need to hear his footsteps upstairs to know when he's back, but not today, he broke his own routine. It wasn't him who came down the stairs this afternoon, but some other man in a different mask. This man talked to me more like I was a human, that was, when he did talk, and didn't force feed me to the point I nearly puke. Right before this man left, he threw a blanket over me because he saw how cold is was for me to be without a shirt in the middle of december in a building with no heating in the basement, or at all.
The next day when the man came downstairs, it was the both of them. My head hung low, the not so nice man came over and pulled my hair to make me face him while he removed the mask to feed me, as well as pull the blanket off of me and throw it in the back of the room. The pain from the top of my head is so bad at this point a tear roll down my cheek, then mixed with blood from my scalp as it too rolled down my face.
"Kevan, how many months have you been here?"
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