His Collection

SEVEN

"I'm not." He answered as I looked away into the endless sea of greens, yellow, and brown. I could feel him right behind me, and if I had my strength, I would have jabbed his ribs and took off. A small sob escaped my mouth, and quickly I placed my hand over my lips. I didn't want to cry like this. I never cried like this. But then again, I never had been in a situation such as this one.

"But I am not going to hurt you," he assured me as I gave a low scoff.

Isn't that what all kidnappers say to their victims?

Pictures of my mangled, mutilated corpse across his porch flew by me, along with the sight of my parents crying, something like that was a great possibility right now.

He walked around then stood over me, trying to have connection with my eyes, which I cut off by shutting my lids. I had a reason to be afraid now --now that I knew I wasn't going to be able to willingly leave.

I felt his rough finger tips brush my chin again, and the violet feelings I harbored couldn't be contained any longer.

"Do not," I clearly said while clutching my wrapped arm. "-touch me."

My eyes opened and he saw just how angry I had become. Yes, from 1-100, real quick. He wasn't a regular person, so the regular me wasn't going to be any help.

"Don't go cold on me so soon." His eyes pleaded while he cemented his feet to the ground. His jaw tightened as I pierced him with my glare. After a few seconds, I looked away.

Lance took a step foward and sighed. He lowered his head as much as he could, even tilting his face, forcing me to acknowledge him. I bite my lip. My captor was tall, long, built, and young. He had to be some years older than I, so I wasn't that intimitaded like how I wanted to be. If he were old man, quickly I would have snapped into a fighting, freaked-out state of mind. Sick, isn't it.

A boy's face, my kidnapper has the features of a boy, but the body of a man.

Red started spreading through my ears, and the heat became noticable around my cheeks. I stepped back, but he had pulled at my shirt to keep me in place.

"I know you won't run. You can't. But feel free to walk around. You know there's wolves roaming all over." His nose touched my forehead. The last thing he said before walking away was, "I wouldn't want you to be taken away from me."

"I am not yours to keep." I mutter as he walks into the house.

The breeze picks up speed, and pushes me towards the barn. I stumble for a few seconds before balancing myself with my arm out to the truck.

"I have to get out of here," I say quietly while turning my head around have a better view of the barn. A few feet away from it, there stood a small wooden shed.

Tools...a weapon, even. I could find something in there.

As I make my way there, I take in how it all appears like a small vacation spot; away from the world, roads, and people. Somewhere uncharted where the only other souls around belonged to the wolves themselves.

I reach the shed then unhook one lock, but as I pull the door open, it refuses to fully open. Chains rattled, and I noticed it had been locked from the bottom up. "Argh. Shit," I hiss out, shaking my anger loose along with the chains.

"Stop that." The voice of Alice fazed through the cracks. I shake them again, and quickly she pushes the door, creating a force that knocked me back and on my ass.

She is locked in there, and doesn't want me to even try and help her out?

I pick myself up, then walk right back to the door. "Alice. I am trying to help you out." I say, then remember why I was there. "Is there anything inside? Any tools, a shovel, anything?"

"Oh, yeah. He would keep those things in the Bad Box." Her sarcasim was thick, making me roll my eyes. Of course, how stupid of me. Why would he lock her up with objects she could use. I assumed the shed was called 'Bad Box'. She must had been punished, and something told me it had to be because of me.

"Why are you in there?" I asked.

"Because I left you, then you got hurt. It was my fault, but not really, ya know. You promised you wouldn't run off."

I wanted to say, "no I didn't promise anything, and no, I didn't run off. Not yet, anyway."

Instead I pressed my hand on the door, and leaned in trying to peek inside. Alice sat near the door braiding her hair, and humming. She was incredibly calm to be in such a position. The more I stared into her little cell, the more I questioned whether she was mental or just making the best out of it.

"Uhm, sorry about that, Alice." I said, deciding to take an easy approach; if she was mental, the last thing I needed was to bring it out on myself.

She sighed and stood up, "Between you and me, you can call me Marina."

I slowly repeat the name. Now why does that sound familiar?  I ask her why she goes by 'Alice', and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh, I didn't like my name, so I made Lance change it a long time ago. Alice was pretty for the first year, but I miss hearing my old name. He won't call me that anymore, though." She crossed her arms and got closer to the door. "Marina Hall." She sang out proudly while staring into the skies hidden from her view.

I stood in shock. Marina Hall had disappeared about two years ago without a trace, and her clothes later discovered torn to pieces. She had been claimed as another wolf attack. When you think of it, from an outsiders point of view, you might say, 'oh, a bunch of wolves couldn't have devoured a person just like that'. But these are giant Montana wolves, and if a person was reported attacked, they were claimed wiped out of existence without a second thought. There was no survival.

"Marina, we can help each other out," I whisper.

"Girl, there is no way out, and why leave?"