Kidnapper's Lover

Chapter Three Now or Never

I nodded and smiled. I decided that it wouldn't be the best idea to take out the knife yet. I would eat my food and drink all the water I could before I made my move. He unlocked the rusty chains with that big rack of keys that was connected to his pocket with an elastic band. For once within maybe a day or so I was able to glance at my hands again. They had circular marks around my wrist from the chains and they were thumping as the blood flow was finally able to circulate again. I rubbed them as I looked up at Vincent and then down at the food.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He nodded as he walked back to his ripped up, dirty chair that he had been sitting in. He watched me take giant bites of pizza and gulps of water that dripped out of my mouth.

"Hungry aren't you? See, you should at least appreciate the fact that I'm thoughtful enough to keep you around for a bit longer, even though I still have absolutely no idea what I plan on doing with you," he said as he reached in his pocket. His ever so devious smile turned quickly into a panic. "Where's my knife? It was just right here I thought."

My eyes widen as I gulped down the bite of breadstick I was eating. I started to feel a panic as well. What would he do to me if he found out I had it? I tried my best to sit still and act as normal as I could. He walked furiously around the room pushing stuff off the counters and yelling for his knife. He stopped, turned around, and just glared at me.

"You don't have my knife do you?" He snarled.

"No, not at all. I was chained up? How would you expect me to get your knife?" I lied as drips of sweat rolled down my head.

He continued to glare at me for what felt like forever. He then heavily stumped over to the door, opening it and walked out. I quickly got up, but the pain in my legs hit me quick as I remembered that they were not in shape to be used. I fell to my knees and crawled the rest of the way. Holding the knife I was sitting on, I hid behind the door and awaited for his return. I tried my best to stand up and put most of the pressure on the leg that wasn't in pain. The only noise that I could hear coming from that room was the loud, echoing of my heartbeat as it beat faster and faster. My hands were shaking as I tried my best to tightly get a grip of the knife. It wasn't too long until I could hear Vincent's footsteps get closer and louder to the door. With not being even able to think for a second more, the door slammed open.

"Little mouse!!!" He yelled in anger, "Where is my knife!"

At the moment I ran up behind him with the knife and tried my best to stab him in the back. The knife was only able to break through some layers of his body, but it wasn't enough to kill him. He screamed and yelled as he turned around, punching me in the lip. The force of the punch made me stumble back losing my contact with the knife that was still lodged his back. He yanked it out as spurts of blood dripped on the ground. He quickly walked towards me and then stood over me. His heavy breathing made his whole body move up and down. I could feel the blood that was dripping down my face due to my now busted lip. I couldn't even move, I was in so much pain all over I felt hopeless once more. He knelled down, grabbing hold of my hair, which painfully lifted my head up.

"Really? Are you kidding me? I give you food and water and even a blanket and this is how you repay me? By stabbing me in the back?" He yelled as his heavy breathing blew in my face. "Well, I guess I will just have to repay you for your so generous payment of pain, huh?"

"No, no please," I cried. "Please, no!"

Still having a grip of my hair, he dragged me harshly back to the pole. He held my head against the pole as one of his hands held tight round my neck, with the other hand he wrapped the heavy, metal chain around my whole body and then locking it behind my back. He let go of my neck as I desperately gasp of air. I couldn't move any part of my body, besides wiggle my toes. He stood back and just looked at me.

"You know, your tougher than you look little mouse," he said as he tried to relive himself from the pain in his back. "Maybe I was wrong for questioning your intelligence, which was pretty smart huh? Trying to escape by hiding my knife and then having me unlock you so you could make your attempt at outsmarting me."

I sat there crying all that I had in me. I was so scared, hurt, and all I could think of is that I was going to die if I didn't try to leave. Vincent just stood tall and stared at me without saying a single word. He walked over to the sink and threw his somewhat bloody knife in there. He stood over the dirty, old sink and let out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes. By the time my tears had dried, my head still hung low like a dog who was just caught doing something bad. Vincent slowly walked over to me, kneeling down. He lifted up my head and examined my busted lip, black eye, and the cut above my eyebrow. He continued to look at them while he rubbed his finger over the cuts and bruises. Indenting in some places which made me say 'Ow' a couple of times. He finally made eye contact with me and just stared at me. There was something about him that made him look much more different when he was this close to me. I gazed in his dark blue eyes and started to notice little details about him. Like how he had a scar on his far left check and how his lips were somewhat chapped. He stood up, walked to the heavy door, and left.

Within a few minutes Vincent walked in with a tiny medical kit. That worried me but at the same time I hoped he was going to try to help me feel better. He opened the tiny, red box and pulled out a suture kit, Band-Aids, rubbing alcohol, and more. He got closer to me once more and tried to clean the cut above my eyebrow, and then placed a Band-Aid over it. I was very confused by this point, because I didn't understand why he would beat me and then try to make me feel better. Maybe he felt bad I thought.

"Vincent?" I asked.

"What?" he replied.

"Why are you doing this to me? Why are you helping me when I just tried to hurt you? Aren't you going to kill me now?"

He stopped wiping the dried blood from my lip, and then looked me in the eyes. "I honestly don't know sweetheart. I should kill you. I should, but something in me is telling me not yet, there might be something more useful to use you for. Throwing you away right now, probably wouldn't be the best for me in my odds. So I say, be thankful that I'm cleaning you up, feeding you, and at least am trying to keep you alive."

"What do you mean use me for something better?" I slurred.

"Well, we will just have to see now won't we?" He said as he patted my cheek. He turned to his side grabbing a cloth and a bottle of chloroform, pouring some on to the rag. What was he doing? I have never even seen or heard of chloroform. Once I looked at the rag though, everything clicked.

"No, Vincent please!" I yelled.

"Shhhhhhh, ssshhhhh sweetheart, you'll be fine I promise," as he reached over to me holding my head against the rag. I couldn't push or kick him away so I was pretty much vulnerable to whatever he had in store for me and with that being said, everything went pitch black slowly as the noise had faded away. Once more, I was out again.