Assassins Heart

2

  LONDYN:

My body is drowning in a cool sweat. The cotton of my sweatshirt clings onto me.

I'm aware of the single light that dangles from the ceiling, cord and all. It's the only source of light, as the windows have been boarded off with slabs of wood.

The room smelt of mustiness, walls and floors coated in grime. My body shoots up from the foam padding I lie upon- a sorry replacement of a mattress.

However, I did not expect for my abductor to have an ounce of  hospitality. Fear pumps through my veins causing a tingle at my joints.

There was no indicator of how long I had been in the small space. It must've been a day or two upon recollection.

Click-Clack    Click-Clack

My hearts pounds out of my chest, a million beats a minute. My eyes, as wide as saucers begin to water.

I fight against the rope binding my limbs together. My fingers dance along the rope urgently working at the knot.

Click-Clack    Click-Clack

Adrenaline drums in every vein my body. Footsteps sound from outside the four walls of the room.

With every step, my mind is pushed into awareness of the situation I currently find myself in.

Suddenly, the steps become inaudible. It's too sudden, even I know that. "I'm afraid Ronaldo did a splendid job of tying those ropes."

I scream. My hands begin to shake as beads of sweat form along my brow. I don't look up, afraid to face the inevitable.

Polished dress shoes soon come into view belonging to that of only a man. "Cat got your tongue, I see." His voice, is low- thunderous, maybe even powerful.

Fear courses through my body, I want to move- I just can't. I want to yell, scream, fight. Fear has grasped onto me, and will not loosen its grip.

Fingers curl around my jaw, forcing my face upwards. My brows furrow as I study the face of my captor.

A gold watch, as well as a gold ring adorns his right hand. His attire is made up of a crisp white button down shirt, navy blue slacks, and brown leather dress shoes.

His hair is styled to perfection. Held in place with an amassment of gel, not a wisp of hair out of place. His ivy blue eyes mock me.

"Please..let me go." I beg. His head tilts to the side, as his lips pull into a smirk. His fingers go to my hair, I flinch. His gaze hardens, as he tugs a wisp of hair behind my ear.

"There, that's better." His eyes scan my body, under his gaze I feel judged. "You've not changed one bit." His voice is low, even in the whisper.

"W-what are you talking about?" My voice, came out coarse- not at all like me. "Oh, Londyn.. I am heavily wounded. You really don't remember me?" He feigns hurt, as his hand goes over his heart.

"Let's play a game, shall we?" He says, as he walks towards the door. His gait, hailing power- he must be someone important.