My Ruthless Kidnapper

Chapter Three: A Monster

      Turning my head side to side, I blinked my eyes from the cruel sunlight hitting my face. Yes, I was back to square one and more worst right now; I was cuffed by my wrist to a nightstand.

      Great.

      With my free hand, I made an effort and pushed my body up to the sitting position, and yes, I found the asshole sitting on the armchair facing the bed. The look on his face is ferocious, making the knot in my chest magnify. 

      Unable to tear my eyes away from his clenching jaw and ball fists, the feeling of intense anger, hopelessness, and confusion mixed with the stabbing sensation at the left side of my chest left me struggling to suppress the pool of tears—almost streaming down my eyes.

      "Where do you think you were going to?" Although his face looked angrily, his tone was cold.

      "Where am I? What do you want from me?" I shiver between my released sobs? My foot hurts, my head hurts, my stomach is throbbing, and even my finger hurt. Actually, everything hurts.

      Standing from the armchair, he took slow steps until he was at the foot of the bed bench, leaning with both his palms flat on the soft surface. I instinctively felt the need to hug my legs. I didn't want him close, not ever.

      But the pain from my foot shoots sharp, prompting me to wince. "Revenge." His voice was calm when he confused me furthermore. 

      I swallowed with furrowed brows. "There must be some misunderstanding. I don't know you—I've done nothing to you, please just let me go—I promised no one will know about this." I plead.

      Smiling to himself, he shook his head. "You're right, Cheryl Mason. You did nothing to me, but why will I let you go? My men misconceived not. They know better." 

      Sniffing, I closed my eyes for seconds. "How do you know my name?" 

      "Told you my men knows better." He stood up straight and began taking steps around the room. 

      "Your men? Like the one you killed the other day?" I almost snapped.

      "Yes again, just as I did thirty minutes ago when you were asleep." He smirks when he halts, toying with some kind of stones in his hand.

      My heart continued to race while a tear fell down my face. "So you kill people? Innocent people?" My voice was barely audible.

      "What does that makes me?" He lifted his questioning eyes at me. 

      "A monster." I spat out.

      He exhales a laugh. "Your feet look bad." With just that, like I didn't just call him out, he headed to a door where a bathroom is revealed behind it.

      Not more than ten seconds, he walked out with a first aid box in his hand. What does he think he's doing when he sits at the edge of the bed? I Instinctively shifted as much as the cuff allowed. There's no way a murderer is touching me. 

      "Don't be stubborn, if you haven't been at all—everything would've been easy, I don't have to get you restrained, and you didn't have to step on glass pieces, hell there wouldn't be any glass piece around the room." He sighs heavily.

      "I'm sorry I wasn't easy to my kidnapper or murderer, is it?" I sarcastically threw at him even though I was shuddering like Rose from titanic blowing a whistle after having to let go of the man she loved the most.

      "Cheryl." He sounds unaffected by my words.

      "Stop saying my name. You know nothing about me. You're a ruthless person who has no regard for lives." I said out, surrendering to whatever the consequences were.

      He intakes a sharp breath and pulls my legs forcefully to his thighs. The pain was acute compared to the regret I had inside of me. Why did I have to leave home that night? Why didn't I listen to my dad? 

      Without a word of warning, my ruthless kidnapper began pressing pressure with a tweezer on the openings that held glasses in my foot. He actually didn't care for the pressure he was applying. He kept pressing out pieces after pieces, albeit he wasn't deaf to the painful cries coming from my throat. He tightly held my feet while cleaning the wounds with a cloth soaked in some liquid which hurts so bad.

      At that moment, I realized he was inhuman; he had no regard for souls and was careless for any tormenting anyone could go through for torturing is what he does for a living.

      Having no more strength to protest, I let him bandage my feet with gauze. When he was done, he slanted closer while I instinctively shifted away. His glinting chocolate brown eyes observed me for some seconds before he freed my wrist attached with the handcuff. "Don't do anything stupid." He warned.

      "I hired a female worker. She will assist you. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut, or her blood is on you. Food will be delivered immediately—make sure you eat, or I will have no other option but to let my doctor put you on IV. You need food to survive." He stated when he was on his feet towards the entrance.

      Staring at him confusedly, I ask. "Why won't you kill me and get done with it?" 

      He stopped by the half-opened door with his lips pursed, staring at the floor. "You should also take a shower." He ignored my question and left the room.

      My eyes couldn't leave the door after he left, for my head was trying to apprehend the last past minutes but what stunned me more was his particular threat. "I hired a female worker. She will assist you. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut, or her blood is on you." 

      I wasn't done processing a thing when the door opened again, and just as promised, a young lady walked through, pushing a service trolley I'm sure is loaded with food. Behind the lady were his men keeping an eye, possibly. 

      "Keep the contract in mind." The monstrous commanding voice came from the merciless man in usual uniform. 

      The woman nods instantly to the men leaving the room—leaving the two of us staring at each other. 

      Although she talked, she surely has her freedom, not like me, who's been treated like a wild animal. "Hey." Her voice was slow and quiet.

      I didn't reply to her. I just watched her push the trolley towards me. "I'm Amelia. I was recruited by your husband hours ago." She murmurs.

      My mouth involuntary dropped. Husband? He's got to be kidding me. "He's not my husband." I denied. 

      "You should eat. I suggest you start with something warm and liquid." She ignored my protest and began serving me coffee.

      "Help me, please," I murmur. "I promise I don't know him. He kidnapped me. He wants some revenge that I have no idea of. Please help me; I know you can. I've seen him kill a human. He's probably going to kill me. Please help me." I rush my words when I get a hold of her hand, staring at her with pleading eyes.

      "You're sick, you're going through treatment, and it's reacting in your body." She quietly answered.

      My eyes almost fall from surprise. Is she blind? Can't she see how badly I look? Who will treat his wife like a psycho? Can't she see the blood on my outfit? My hair, my paleness? 

      Shaking my head, I began. "It's all a lie. Everything you've heard is a lie. Please save me; I don't want to die here. I have family, school, and friends. Please." I didn't notice the tears falling from my face until a drop landed on Amelia's hand.

      "You need to eat, and then I will help you get clean up without messing the bandage." She acted unconcerned or maybe wanted to appear unconcern even though her hands were slightly shaking.

      "All you have to do is keep your mouth shut, or her blood is on you." His words play in my head.

      Breathing in, I gave up trying. I collected the mug she was holding and took a sip. For a second, I thought about being poisoned. I bet if they wanted me killed—they would have it the fun way, not by poisoning my food. With that, I let myself devour everything, for I don't remember the last time I've eaten. 

      Amelia sat in the same spot my ruthless kidnapper did earlier; she watched me silently until I couldn't eat anymore. I have to admit I feel much better. I think the food cured the churning hole in my stomach.

      By the time I took a warm bath in a tub situated in the middle of the spacious bathroom, Amelia had brought me a pair of short silky nightwear and helped me set my hair to a better look. 

      I would say I look much better than I saw myself earlier, but I still have the miserable dark under-eye bags, and the slight cut on my finger stung often. 

      Feeling like a zombie, I walk back to the room where I find the bed redressed with a mountain of pillows I don't need. 

      It's already dark, the clock says ten, although I don't know what day it is, but I know it is night. 

      "Have a good night. I will see you tomorrow." Amelia said.

      "You stay here?" I curiously asked her.

      Shaking her head, she replies. "No, the driver's waiting for me outside." 

      Great! Again I will be left with an unknown amount of men in the same building. "Alright, see you tomorrow." The smile I tried to read failed.

      She shot me a sad smile and left after turning off the bedroom light.