M
My eyes fluttered open, and I was met with an unfamiliar ceiling. Reality crashed down on me, and I wished I'd remained asleep
I had been threatened, drugged, and dumped in the home of a murderer.
I stumbled towards the nearest door, gagging at the memory of Kim's forehead. Luckily, it was a bathroom.
The bright fluorescent lights above the sink made me squint, and the smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils. I fell to my knees in front of the toilet, the cold ceramic biting into my skin.
I retched, the sound echoing off the tiles. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I vomited, my body shaking with sobs.
The stench of blood, the splattered brain matter – every detail of the memory made me vomit. Even thinking about it triggered another wave of nausea.
The toilet paper holder rattled as I grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe my mouth.
I emptied my stomach and flushed the toilet. Then, I splashed water on my face and gazed at my reflection in the large mirror above the sleek vanity.
The recessed lighting highlighted the red-rimmed eyes and pale skin staring back at me.
I felt tainted like I needed a scorching hot shower to scrub away the dirt of what I'd witnessed. The bathroom's spa-like atmosphere seemed like a cruel irony, its white marble tiling and glass-enclosed shower only making my anxiety even worse.
The mirror fogged up as I breathed into it, momentarily obscuring my reflection.
I instinctively reached for my pendant, my fingers circling my neck in a familiar gesture. Panic set in when I didn't feel it, but relief washed over me as I realized it was just hidden beneath my workout top, still on me since my morning jog.
As I gazed at the pendant, a mix of emotions swirled inside me. My father had told me it belonged to my real mother, the one I'd lost when I was just three years old. The one that abandoned me.
I pushed the thought away, not wanting to get tangled in memories. I had more pressing concerns. I needed to call the cops and report that I'd witnessed a murder.
Shane was a murderer. Who could have imagined the drop-dead-gorgeous CEO of multiple successful companies was a murderer?
To think of it, If Shane got arrested my problems would be solved.
I searched my pockets, trying to feel my phone, but it wasn't there.
I sprinted out of the bathroom, my bare feet pounding against the cold, white marble floor.
I frantically checked the bed, rumpling the crisp, white linens in the process. I yanked open the drawers, revealing their modern interiors, but my phone wasn't inside.
I even checked the bedside table, its surface gleaming in the bright light that poured in through the large windows. But it was nowhere to be found.
Panic set in, my heart racing with anxiety. "No, no, no, no..." I muttered, desperation creeping into my voice.
What if it had fallen off when they were dragging me away? No, it couldn't have. That was my chance to contact the police and get out of here.
"Looking for this?"
I spun around as Shane's voice cut through the air. He sat on the white couch at the rear end of the room, clad in a white shirt and black pants, his face giving off a calm expression as he waved my phone at me tauntingly.
"Y-yes," I stuttered, frozen in place. Being in the same room as a murderer was terrifying enough; I had no intention of getting any closer.
A MURDERER
He stood up, holding out my phone, and I approached him warily, trying to read his expression. But as I reached for the phone, he suddenly slammed it to the floor, shattering it with deliberate force.
The sound of cracking glass filled the air, and I flinched as shards flew everywhere, barely missing my skin as the phone's remains scattered across the marble floor.
He then ground his heel into the ALREADY broken phone, ensuring it was beyond repair.
"You don't need it," he stated calmly and flatly.
"What kind of sick insane bastard are you!" I erupted in anger, fists knotted at my sides. I couldn't believe I'd once thought him attractive. He was insane.
He just stood there, hands casually in his pockets - a habit I was starting to notice way too much.
"Starting today," he continued, voice dripping with authority, "No phones, no internet, no contact with anyone but me"
He had to be kidding, but the gaze he fixed on me suggested otherwise.
"You can't do this!" I spat "It's not part of the contract."
I'd read every word, every clause, and there was nothing about cutting off contact with everyone except him.
"I don't care," he muttered.
I let out a scornful laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. "So, you're going to cut me off from the outside world? Stop me from contacting my family?" I snapped bitterly.
He raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the white wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "What family? The one that gave you up without a second thought?" His words cut deep, like a knife slicing through my defences. I felt a sting, a burning sensation in my chest, as memories I'd long suppressed rose to the surface.
"Don't think I forgot what you did back there," I hissed, my anger boiling over.
"Back where?" Shane's expression was innocent, but I knew better.
"You killed someone!" I accused.
His eyes showed no emotion. "Oh…I remember."
"You murdered someone, someone with a life, a family" I snapped, trying to keep my voice steady, but fear sent my pulse skyrocketing. What if he turned on me next?
How did my day spiral so horribly out of control??
"He ran away from home at 15 and got hooked on drugs," His tone was eerily casual, as if discussing the weather. "He didn't have a life or a family to speak of. You're being overly dramatic."
Dramatic? Sorry, I witnessed you committing cold-blooded murder!
My fists clenched tighter, and I took a step forward, my eyes locked on his with pure revulsion. "You're insane," I stuttered, my voice shaking. He had no right to take a life. How could anyone in their right mind do such a thing?
His expression didn't change, as if I'd said nothing at all.
"You're completely heartless, aren't you?" he just kept staring at me, his eyes empty. "You can't keep me locked up in here forever," I glared daggers at him, trying to provoke some reaction, but he just kept staring.
I sprinted to the door, my bare feet pounding against the floor. I grasped the door handle, a sleek metal curve that fitted perfectly in my palm and tried to yank it open. But it wouldn't budge, the lock clicking stubbornly into place.
Shane's footsteps echoed through the room, each step deliberate and calculated, as he approached me with an unnerving calmness that made me tense up. The air thickened as he walked closer.
"Don't come any closer!" I warned, my voice shaking, desperate to find something, anything, to defend myself. But the room was empty
I tried to force the door open again, but it remained stubbornly shut. The lock clicked, a metallic sound that seemed to mock me. I strained against the door, my muscles tensing as I pushed with all my might. But it wouldn't budge. My breath caught in my throat as he drew closer, his eyes fixed on mine. I pressed my back against the door, the handle digging into my spine.
Then, he invaded my personal space, bending down to meet my gaze, his face inches from mine. "I don't plan on keeping you in here forever," his breath whispered against my skin.
He turned to the door, his thumb gliding over the screen-like scanner shit. The sound of a click was followed by a female automated voice 'Access approved.'
Shane's wink was followed by a devilish smirk, his side dimple insulting me as he strolled out. The door slammed shut in my face, the sound echoing through the room, leaving me trapped and seething with frustration.
I tried to open the door by placing my thumb on the device, but a sudden jolt of electricity shocked me.
'Access denied,' the automated voice announced, as I yelped in pain and sucked my throbbing thumb.
I attempted again with my left thumb, but the result was the same with another, even more painful shock.
'Access denied,' the voice repeated.
I let out a frustrated curse, banging the door like it would open.
This wasn't part of the contract…