We sat there, together, lost in our own worlds. Neither of us moved, the world around us was so still, and so silent, that even the slightest noise would sound like a clap of thunder.
"Hey, Victoria?" Mike's hoarse voice cracked.
Turning to face him, "Yeah Mike?"
"What do you really think this man is going to do with us?" He asked, eyes wide.
"He could do a number of things. He could just want to watch us starve to death, he could want to make his own population of people, it could be torture he wants, or, we could just be his 'pets'."
Mike shuddered, and looked down at his hands in his lap. The silence returned, and we sat leaning on eachother for hours (I assume).
Once again, the dark mahogany door creaked open and the cloacked man gracefully swept through the frame. He glide over to the bars, stuck a key inside the very old looking lock, and slid the bars open. I stared, emotionless at the man; while Mike stared at Jim with pure disgust. We both didn't dare move, we have only had a taste of what this man could do, we don't know his full potential. Nor did I want to know this man's full potential. For once in a long time I was actually scared, actually freaking out in my head.
The man swept over to the two of us wordlessly. The only sound in the whole room was the cloaked mans light footsteps, and Mike and I's shallow breathing. The man grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet, as he dragged me through and out of the cage, and lastly, through the dark mahogany door.
I sat there, staring wide eyed at the door. He didn't lock the cage again, but the door locked on its own with a loud click as he exited... With Victoria. I cared about this girl, it doesn't matter in what kin of way because I don't know, but I know at least on a friend level.
The thought that I knew anything could be happening to her right now scared me. For all I knew, Victoria might never come back... I really need to stop thinking about that, I need to think as positive as possible.
I jumped at the sound of a high pitched scream reaching its pinnacle, then being muffled. Ah shit...
Oh God, I thought, I'm gonna die here. Die here like this, just bleeding out. A voice in the back of my head said sarcastically, "Wow, isn't this man creative?"
I felt my warm sticky blood flowing down my body, soaking my clothes. I have so many cuts I don't even know where the blood was flowing from. He picked up his knife again, walking silently over to me. The man pressed the knife to my cheek, and chuckled out of pure enjoyment. Sol bastard. Slowly but surely, he applied enough pressure an dragged the knife from the top of my cheek to the bottom. I gritted my teeth an held back the tears. I hated crying, no matter what the situation was; to me, crying was unacceptable.
I started feeling dizzy from the lack of blood, and passed out right before the cloaked man was about to cut me again.
The door was kicked open, scaring the shit out of me. The man was carrying a limp Victoria bridal style in his arms. He tossed her into the cell, glanced at me, and then he glided out of the room.