Kidnap To Control

Livia

A teenage girl of about 15 was laying down in a dank and moldy stone cell- a typical jail cell, with a small and uncomfortable cot in the corner, a tiny basin of water, a plate of bread and a bit of cheese, as well as a little (yet thankfully functioning) toilet.  

The girl had choppy brown hair, orange-yellow eyes with tiny flecks of purple, a dark green emerald necklace carved into a rose around her neck. She twisted a silver ring with a shard of peridot inlaid in the center around her finger absentmindedly. 

Her name was Livia Yang, and she was a captive, a victim of a kidnapping with hidden intentions of ending the human race. 

Although, not so hidden now that she knew. 

She stood, rubbing the crick in her neck that had formed from laying  on a slab of stone with blankets and pillow stuffed with only straw. 

She stared at the wall, which was covered in white scratch marks indicating the amount of days she'd been held against her will- a grand total of thirteen days. 

Do my friends not care about the fact that I've been kidnapped straight from my own bed? 

No, that wasn't the case. It couldn't be the case. Could it? 

Starting to pace the cramped cell, Livia peeled off her signature leather jacket and flung it on the floor, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the dust that had accumulated over a week of living in a dungeon. 

Walking over to the small plate of bread and cheese, Livia was forced to put away her fears that the food was poisoned. She had starved for almost a week and a half, surviving off of only the meat she had eaten an hour before being kidnapped; now she was weak and was beginning to get malnourished. She took a small bite of the mozzarella cheese, after scraping off the mold. It was crumbly and tasted as though it was made from sour and curdled milk.

But despite the horrid taste, it was edible, after the mold was removed. 

She moved onto the bread, her exceedingly low expectations being met easily. The bread was as hard as a rock, and the servants in the Phantom's realm refused to give her more food until she had eaten what was given.  

Fair enough. 

"But food is food," Livia muttered to herself as she shoved the plate away, her hunger still unsatisfied but curbed over. 

After making sure the water was clear and with no chances of poison, Livia had been surviving off of only water- the only substance the servants actually replenished every night. 

Now, she took a few sips of the cool liquid, feeling dehydrated after eating the dry, stale bread and sour cheese. 

"Livia." The girl whirled around at the deep, gruff voice coming from her cell door. 

"Phantom." She hissed as she recognized the face after automatically analyzing any chances of escape. 
The Phantom looked the same as usual- an ordinary looking man, dressed in a crisp and terrifying suit, but if you looked closer you could see tiny little screens of nightmares; mostly your own. 

"What have you come for?" Livia growled, hand reaching instinctively for a dagger that wasn't there.

"Answers." Answers? To what? 

"What kind of answers?" She was over by the cell door now, fists wrapped tightly around the jail bars, her face as close to the Phantom's as she could get. 
"Well," The Phantom replied, as he took a step away from the bars of her cell, "I want answers to questions I have about Hazel Marie Infinite."

Smirking, Livia said to the Phantom, "Like I would answer questions about her. Besides, you lived inside of her  for how many years? Hmm," she pretended to count the years on her fingers, "Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen? Yes, that's right.  Sixteen years." 

The Phantom lurched forward and grabbed her wrist, pure electricity shooting through her arm as white hot pain sent her crumpling to the floor. It felt like her arm was on fire, flames of heat and blinding flashes of pure torment twisting her arm. 

"Never defy me answers, Livia Blank Yang," he snarled, "I don't ask for much and I can make your, how do I say this, visit  a whole lot more painful." 

He turned away from the now unconscious girl, not feeling the least bit bad about her situation. 

"I'll get answers one way or the other," The Phantom muttered to himself as he walked down the hallway, "I don't care if I have to torture or kill to get what I want."