Layna
The front door slammingdownstairs woke me from the small nap I had managed to take, giving me mereseconds to prepare before I heard Brian's heavy footsteps on the stairs. I knewthat he was going subject me to another one of his demented ideas, but I wasn'tsure which fear he would target next. The door to the room he was keeping me inwas pushed open with such force that it slammed against the wall, causing it toshake.
He stalked over to me, and started methodically unshackling me, all the while muttering under his breathe. There was a fresh bruise under his eye, and I briefly wondered how he got it.
"Stupid police, and stupid FBI ruining my plans. They can't stop me, and they can't stop you, daddy." He said, tossing the now vacated chains to the corner and hoisting me over his shoulder. "It's time for your next test, sweet Layna."
I didn't try to struggle; I needed to save my energy for later, in case I had a chance to run for it.
He took me done to the basement, and slammed me down on a metal table. My head cracked on the steel, and I saw stars.
When my vision finally cleared, I took a good look around. I was in a large room, which reminded me of the morgues on many crime shows. The walls had once been white, but now they were stained and chipping in many places. There was one giant fluorescent light over me, reminding me a bit of a spotlight, and one wall had a shelf built on it, filled with medical supplies.
The table that Brian had put me down was shaped as a cross. He strapped my arms down on the protruding pieces, so that the undersides were exposed.
He then proceeded to strap down my legs and midsection with thick leather straps so tightly so that I couldn't move a muscle.
When he got to my head, he strapped it down so I was facing my right arm, and then he put two pieces of tape on my eyes to hold my eyelids open. I wasn't able to blink, and my eyes started to burn almost immediately.
Brian moved to the shelve and started rummaging around. He picked up a plastic bin, and started throwing supplies into it.
"Remember the time you told me you hated needles?" he asked me, coming over to where I lay, and resting the bin on my stomach. "You made me come to the doctor's office with you, to hold your hand, because you were afraid."
I stayed quiet and watched as he pulled out a large syringe from the bin. "To be afraid is to be weak, and we can't have that."
Brian jabbed the needle into my arm as hard as he could, and I screamed as I felt it scratch my bone. "I wanted to see you scream like that from when the doctor gave you that needle."
He yanked it out, and then jammed it back in as I watched. Blood spurted out from the first wound, and Brian dabbed his finger in it, bringing it to his mouth. I watched in horror as he sucked the finger clean.
Brian smiled. "Again," he whispered, pulling out another needle from the bin, and stabbed it into my arm, beside the one that was currently sticking out of my skin.
I screamed, and Brian smacked me across the face. "You can't be scared anymore!" he yelled, jabbing another one into my arm.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I couldn't help it; I screamed again. Brian growled and stuck another one in.
And then another.
And another.
Until there were at least fifteen needles sticking out of my arm, and my voice had grown hoarse from screaming. As Brian jabbed in the sixteenth, I only flinched as the pain spiraled up my arm.
"Good girl," he whispered, stroking my hair. Very slowly, he started to pull out the needles in my arm, until there were none left. All that was left was the holes where they had been, and the blood that was dripping down my arm.
Once again, Brian went to the plastic bin, but this time, he pulled out some gauze and antiseptic. He gently cleaned my wounds, and then wrapped the gauze around my throbbing arm.
He pulled of the tape from my eyelids, and then unstrapped the rest of my body, lifting me into his arms. Then he carried me upstairs, back to the bed and gently laid me down, covering me with the thin quilt.
"Daddy's gone now," he whispered, and stroked my hair. I had no energy to fight him. "You can rest."
"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked my voice cracking. "Why do you want to hurt me so much?"
"I don't want to hurt you, Layna. But daddy says I have to do this. It's the only way."
I gently brought up my good and stroked his face. "It's not though; we can get out of this, together." At this point I would say anything to just get out of here. "What if you left your daddy?"
"He would kill me, and you," Brian whispered darkly.
I closed my eyes in fear, and Brian continued to stroke my hair.
"He put me throw the tests too you know, because it made me stronger. Now I have no fears; I am fearless. And soon you will too."
"Did your dad use to hurt you?" I asked, my heart twisting in my chest. Even though Brian had done nothing but harm me, I felt bad for him. No one should be abused by their own parents, especially when they were young.
"What he did made me stronger, and that's why I'm doing it to you, so we can be strong together. My daddy helped me, and now its my turn to help you. You're special, Layna, my very special girl."
"Now sleep," he whispered. "When daddy comes back, we will do the next test." He pulled out a smaller needle from his pocket and injected it into my good arm. Kissing me quickly on the head, he left the room, locking the door after him.
As I lay there, I tried to move, but my body wasn't responding. It must have been whatever was in the needle, but I couldn't complain because I couldn't feel the pain in my arm anymore.
My eyes fluttered shut on their own accord, and I slipped into unconsciousness.
Derek
"You have to be fucking kidding me," I said, balling my fists and trying to stay calm. "How can his alibi have checked out? It makes no fucking sense."
I had come to the police station as soon as I had woken up, hoping that something would have come up throughout the night. So far, the only thing Greene could tell me was that Brian had been where he said he was.
Greene rubbed a hand over his face, and rested his elbows on his desk, "Derek, I tripled checked everything. I called all his friends, the places he went, checked credit card receipts—everything. He was where he said he was."
"There has to be something. He is apart of this somehow, I know it."
"Look," Detective Greene said in a softer voice. "I know this is hard for you. It's my fault, actually. I shouldn't have even given you the opportunity to help. You aren't in the right state of mind— "
"I am thinking clearly, Greene. He's the one who took her."
Greene sighed. "We have to start looking at other options, Derek. Maybe look into what he's saying a little bit. I know that you don't want to believe it, but with everything that has come up now, he may have been saying the truth."
I froze, staring at him, with what I could only assume was something close to a death glare. "I told you that the stuff he was saying was bullshit."
"Yeah, well Derek right now that's the only other lead we have."
"I will find you you're lead, Detective. She didn't run away, and I'm going to prove it," I said then left his office, slamming the door behind me.
As I walked out of the police station, I walked into Steve, who was entering. "What's wrong?" he asked me.
"Greene is being thickheaded. Brian is involved in this somehow, I know he is."
Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Brian didn't do anything, Derek; Detective Greene is right. You just want to put your blame on someone, and he's the perfect scapegoat. You want it to be him, you know why?"
I stared at Steve confused, "Why?"
"Because he's Layna's boyfriend. He stole the girl you loved from you, and you have no one to blame but yourself, and you don't want to admit that, so you blame Brian for things he didn't do. You're trying to pin a kidnapping and stalking on a guy that genuinely cares about her.
"I've tried, Derek, to forgive you for what you did to her, but this is going too far. You're blaming the person that was there for Layna when you weren't, the one person that started to mend her heart when you broke it," Steve spit out, and I was shocked.
"You don't know how much I wanted to forgive you, Derek, but with this crap you're saying now, I don't think I can," Steve repeated, staring me straight in the eye. "That's why I called you, when I found out she was gone. I thought you deserved to know what was going on, even though you abandoned her. I thought, maybe this could be your second chance. But I was wrong, and I apologize. But now, I think you should do what you do best, and leave.
"Detective Greene is a good detective, and he will find her. I have faith in him. But I lost the faith I had in you a long time ago."
With those harsh words, Steve turned around and walked into the station, not sparing me a second glance.