Naitee
*3 hours earlier*
I picked myself up of the bathroom floor just in time because the second I sat down on the couch the door opened. Ross steps in and he's dusted with snow, so wherever we are must be somewhere in the northern east. That is extremely unhelpful and if it's snowing that means that it's too cold to run away from here without any proper gear and that means that I'll either have to wait him out or steal his car. I don't have good odds with either.
"Hello!" He calls out and pulls of his shoes. He walks up to me and I don't react when he presses a cold kiss to my forehead.
"Welcome back." I say and I don't even feel disgust, just empty. Like all my emotions were left in that room with-- Hannah.
"Thank you, I've had such a day. Making deals and exchanging information and all that. It was like vultures fighting over a piece of meat." Ross falls down on the couch beside me and drags a hand through his brushed back hair. The image of what those hands have done plays before my eyes but I don't feel anything about it. There's nothing worse I could find out about him now.
"Really?" I say but it's not really a question, I just need him to talk more. Any chance he could slip up could save my life.
"Yeah well I had to make some new contacts--" He gives me a look. "So there was alot of back and forth." I nod slowly and cross my legs.
"So what did you do?" His hands lands on my leg and I my mind starts to delve into that dark part that I so narrowly escaped five years ago.
"Uhh-- nothing really. Watched some TV and slept some more." Ross claps his hand upp and down on my thigh and I force myself to breathe out slowly.
"Great, it's good that you're resting." Ross stands up and I'm so relieved I can't stop the little sigh that leaves me. Ross gives me a look but walks toward the kitchen. I watch him more closely this time and see him swipe his a bracelet against it before opening it. Maybe the bracelet is the key and the controller to tazer thing on my ankle.
I have to get that bracelet.
Ross starts to cook again and I realise it's because he doesn't want me to get any of the knives. How can he be so deep in his delusion and still so well planned? I watch him like a hawk but he doesn't do any slip ups. Every single drawer is shut properly and all the tools were neatly washed and put back in their places.
It takes him fourty minutes to cook the steak and rice and during that time he hasn't given me anything to go on. With horror I watch him plate everything, light candles and pour wine. Something tells me that this is more of a date than a dinner between a father and daughter. Somehow in his delusion has been a cross between me and Hannah creating some kind of psycho-sexual obsession and I'm not sure I can play along with that. I have played a lot of different roles during the last five years but this might be the line I can't cross.
I gather all the strength I have left and rise from the couch. I force my legs to not wobble as I walk to the dinner table and sit down before one of the plates. Ross pushes my chair in in a move that should've been chivalrous but the way his hands rest on my shoulders after is just right down creepy. Finally after squeezing them for a little while he lets go and walks around to sit across from me. He's wearing jeans a white button up that doesn't quite fit him. The buttons are just a little to strained.
"Dig in." He says with a smile and starts cutting his own steak. I fantasise that my steak is his face as I cut it and revel in the way the meat breaks under the jagged knife.
We basically eat the rest of the dinner in silence and I'm thankful that I don't have to make small talk. It has never been my forté and especially not now. Ross clears his throat and my gaze cuts to him.
"What?" I ask slowly and pretend to cut up more of my food. Anything to avoid what I think is going to come.
"Well I-- I just wanted to show you something." I pretty sure I really don't want to see what he wants to show me.
"Okay..." My voice is quiet, too quiet.
Ross stands up and his chair scarpes against the floor as he pushes it back. He walks around the table to me and I grip the steak knife in my hand. Just hard enough so it isn't noticable.
"Come on and I'll show you." My hands clenches around the steak knife but I force my hands to let it go. It drops to the table with a clunk and Ross's gaze falls to it for only a second before he smiles. The look in his eyes is pure evil.
He takes my hand and leads me up from the chair. His skin is clammy and cold like a octopus.
I follow behind him and he walks us to one of the doors I tried to open earlier. He holds his wrist against the door knob and now I know for sure that he bracelet is the key. The door swings open slowly and he pulls me into the room. The room that is set up with all kinds of torture devices. There's a wooden cross, a bench with handcuffs and everything you could think of. It all looked brand new.
I feel dizzy. Like the whole world is spinning and I'm desperatly trying to stand upright. I realise that he has made up this whole room for me and it makes me sick to my stomach.
"What do you think?" He asks and turns around to face me, his face is expectant and suddenly I'm very aware of the fact that the door is closed and that there are no windows.
"I--" I gulp. This is worse than I could've thought. "I don't know what to say." Ross grins and I can practically see him decending into his delusion. I have no way out. My breathing hitches and Ross seems to take it as a good sign because he leans in closer. I should've stabbed him with that knife when I had the chance.
His breath fans over my face and I struggle not to throw up.
"Hannah, baby. I've waited so long for this." He says and his hands grip my waist just a little to hard. He called me Hannah, the name of his dead daughter who's body is in the other room.
His hands delve under my shirt and I freeze. I have to make a choice. Right now. Play along and be debased to a whole new level or fight and pray to god that I win. I make my choice the second his hands reach the clasp of my bra. The bra I don't even remeber putting on.
I push his hands of me, with force. I shove him back and he looks shocked before his face turns dark with something.
"What are you doing Hannah?" I gather all my strength and summon it to slam my knee into his groin in the most effective distraction for men. When he crashes to the floor I say, "I am not Hannah." With all the hate and despise I have for him and then I run. Run for my life.
Literally.
The door is thankfully not locked and I push past it in a haze. I have to get to the kitchen. To the steak knives still left on the table. My heart is slamming against my ribs and they almost break from the force.
Somewhere from behind me I can hear Ross swearing and crashing through the door after me.
"Come back here Naitee!" His voice is colder than ice and the sue of my name tells me that I snapped him out of his delusion.
"I will have you no matter what!" He screams at the same time I reach the table and grip a steak knife in each hand. He crashes into the kitchen after me and his eyes are wild with anger and glee.
"You sick bastard. You think I would do anything with you after what you've done?!" I'm screaming at the end of the sentance but Ross just grins.
"It's going to be so good breaking you." I scoff and grip the knives harder when he steps closer.
"Don't even try." He takes another step closer, that disgusting grin still on his face.
"Relax Naitee. Everything I'll do to you you'll love. So put down the knives." He holds his hands out before him but I am so long past forgiveness or being calm that it doesn't change anything.
"I will kill you so slowly and I will enjoy it thouroghly." I throw back with a sneer.
Ross dives for me but I'm ready and I flick my wrist before slamming the knife straight through his outstretched hand.
"Motherfucker." He growls out and pulls back, blood ushing from his hand where I punctured the skin. Blood trickles onto my hand from the knife and I savor the warmth of it.
"Don't doubt me when you know who trained me." It's a dig I know will hurt, he was always afraid that I would become better than him.
"Torturing you will be so sweet." He says and his face is twisted in a nasty mask of anger.
He starts to circle and I follow, moving slowly around. If I can get him to move just a little further the way to the door is clear and then I'll handle it from there.
When I'm close enought to get past him without him being able to grab me I flip the knife in my hand so I'm holding it my the blade. I pray that it even weighing and launch it will all my might right at his chest. I don't look if it hits before I run. It's maybe fourty feet to the door and I have only a few seconds of headstart. I grip the bracelet that I broke of his wrist and hope that it's closeness will open the door.
"You little bitch--!" Ross growls and I crash into the door, slamming the bracelet into the door knob and the clicking sound it makes is like hearing angels singing.
I push the door open and step outside. The cold crashes into me and it makes me hesistate for jusy long enough for something hard to slam into the back of my head. Black spots dance before my eyes at the same time as arms go around my body. Holding me up.
"Got you." Is the last thing I hear before decending into the warm, welcoming darkness.
When I wake up I'm cold. Freezing cold. My teeth chattering is what woke me up and even though I opened my eyes I can't see anything. It's pitch black and my body is cramped up in a weird position.
I try to move but I can barely stretch my legs out all the way and both of my feet now feel heavy. I reach down and when I sit up my head just barely grazes the top of whatever I'm in. My hands find my ankle and to my horror I feel a chain. A heavy metal chain and clutch around my ankle.
The panic sets in immediatly.
My hands feel desperatly around me and I start to hyperventilate. I feel wood and dirt under me, it's rough and I get splinters from only feeling around. Another horrifying realisation I find is that I'm totally naked.
Naked, chained and in some kind of a hole. I try to feel for any pain between my legs but there's nothing and I'm thankful. Thankful to my kidnapper, the killer of my parents because he didn't rape me.
My shaky hands follow the chain to where it ends. In a huge metal ball that I can't lift. I forced myself to count my breathing before it was down to normal again but the panic in my head was still there.
I failed. I failed because of a stupid, stupid mistake and now it is somehow worse.
With a sinking feeling in my stomach I realise that if Ijust would've let him use me. None of this would've happened. If I had let him rape me maybe I wouldn't me chained to the bottom of a freezing box hole.
If consumes me after that. Because it's safer than thinking about what's probably awaiting me.