I'm waiting for you

10.

How long has it been since she lost consciousness? She has no idea. All she knows is that her body felt like it was burning from the inside out. Then, little by little, the fire receded. Her senses began to function normally again. Until the fateful moment when she finally managed to open her eyes. The room around her is tastefully decorated in a fairly classical style. Opposite her, on the wall, is a huge mirror. Its reflection reflects her slightly lost look. She is lying on a sumptuous sofa, her blonde hair carefully brushed, wearing a long dressing gown of soft, flowing fabric. She cautiously sits up and a metallic clatter catches her attention. On her ankle, an iron bracelet connected to a strong chain. Her stomach churns. She follows the long chain with her eyes and then notices that it is firmly anchored to the floor in the centre of the room. Panic begins to set in. She stands up, rushes to the door opposite the mirror and turns the handle. It is locked. Her throat closes. She returns to the sofa. She meets his eyes in the mirror again, then stops. She remembers the accident. The blood, the pain... and yet her skin is immaculate. She opens the dressing gown, discovers that she is wearing nothing underneath, but even more surprisingly, the bruises that should cover her body have completely disappeared. She hastily closes her outfit as panic begins to overcome her.

"How long have I been unconscious? What's going on?"

She catches her head in her hands in disbelief. The click of a lock being unlocked reaches her ears. She freezes and stares at the reflection in the room. A man enters. A man with an imposing build, a square jaw and a hard, penetrating gaze. Sarah's hands tremble, she doesn't dare turn around. She swallows her saliva with difficulty, her mouth is dry as she speaks:

"Who are you? What do you want from me? Why am I tied up?"

Without a word, the stranger advances into the room, slowly, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. Sarah finally turned to face him. As he approaches, she steps back. Her back touches the cold surface of the mirror. She is cornered. He is facing her. So close that she feels his breath on her face. He grips her face firmly and a satisfied smile forms on his lips. He leans towards her, then runs his nose along her neck, breathing in deeply. His voice is a whisper, almost a rumble.

"Ah, Sarah... You are perfect. I knew you would be. You'll like it here."

Snapping out of her tetany, the young woman tries to push him away, but it's like trying to push back a wall. He doesn't move a millimetre, then bursts out laughing. She slaps him; his smile disappears. The grip around her face tightens. She feels her bones protesting at his treatment and she struggles to articulate a few words:

"It's you. You're the creep who's been following me for months. Are you "M"?

Faced with the insult, the man lets out an angry roar, then slams Sarah's head against the mirror, which shatters. She feels a hot liquid running down her face as he throws her to the ground. The fragments of the mirror reflect her image back at her. With horror, she sees that the wounds are closing by themselves at an inhuman speed. Soon the blood stops flowing.

"What have you done to me? How can I heal so quickly?

Above her, the man has a small laugh of disdain.

"You wanted a new life? I gave it to you. And this is how you thank me?

- What are you talking about?

- You'll know soon enough."

Quiet knocks sound at the door. The man sighs. He walks away and, as he is about to leave, looks back one last time.

"I have to go now. Pick up this mess and enjoy your time off. Your new life is just beginning Sarah and it belongs to me."