Chapter Seven

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I knew I had regained consciousness, and I knew exactly why I had lost it in the first place. The person with the mask had strangled me until I was nearly in the arms of death. Almost instantly my heart thrummed against my chest. Was he still in my house? Was I still in my house? Though I had been awake for a few minutes, I didn't open my eyes. What if I opened them and he was staring back at me, inches from my face with his ominous mask? What if he was a psychopath who wanted me to be conscious when he killed me? What if he planned to torture me with worse methods than death? My body gave an involuntary shudder at the thought, and that's when I felt a weight on my wrist.

My eyes opened against my will as I wanted to confirm what I thought was around my wrist. The cool metal brushed against my skin almost delicately as it rattled from my tremors. My suspicion was indeed proved to be correct; the man had handcuffed me. But when I allowed my gaze to follow the chain , I was horrified at my discovery.

The man had handcuffed me to himself. His palm was pushed rigidly against the floor as his fingers fanned out, his inhuman claws nearly digging into the bathroom tile. I sighed slightly as I recognized the tile. We were still in my own house at least. But surely, if he handcuffed me, we wouldn't be staying for the long haul.

"Why handcuff-,"

His free hand whipped over his own chest, crossing his handcuffed arm, and covered my mouth and nose tightly. As I struggled to get a breath in, he growled lowly; a guttural, nearly feral sound emanating from his throat.

"I'll ask you to speak when I want you to speak. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut and for God's sake follow directions," 

I noticed his hand lightly shaking before he had a chance to remove it. He knew I had felt it, there was no way he hadn't. 

A small chuckle came from behind the mask. It was so quiet for a split second I thought it was only my imagination playing tricks on me, but then he spoke again.

"I'm barely restraining myself from ripping out your organs and consuming them while you're still alive. The incredible scent of fear you give off is intense and intoxicating, nearly overbearing. You're so afraid, yet, still want to ask questions. Still want to know 'why you'? Don't flatter yourself, you aren't special by any means. You have something we need,"

He didn't move his gaze from the wall. At least, his mask was looking at the wall. I couldn't see through the thick eye gauze to tell where he may have been looking. His voice gave me deep chills, and a fear set in I had never known before. Tears fell from my wide eyes before I even felt that they were overflowing. My mind kept screaming for me to run, but being handcuffed to him and having a deep cut on my foot wouldn't land me very far. 

I'm barely restraining myself from ripping out your organs and consuming them...

Maybe it was the shock from being strangled only to awaken handcuffed that made it hard for those particular words to set it. He really meant it. This wasn't something he said to terrify me into submission to his demands. It wasn't something he said for fun. He wanted to devour my insides and leave me for dead in my own home. 

"HENRY!" I screamed his name as loud as I could. I kept repeating his name as many times as I could before the man had stood, the handcuffs linking us ripping me from my sitting position. 

Slap.

My face stung sharply from where he had hit me. My eyes were wide as I quickly registered what just happened.

"You just don't listen," He grabbed a handful of my hair from the root, and I whimpered in pain, scrunching my face. My cheek, stinging with a pain only describable as burning slices through the skin, made direct contact with his mask as he pulled me close to him by my hair.

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