Two days have passed, I think. I don't have a clock, so the sun rising and setting was the only indication I had of passing time. I hadn't slept at all since I first woke up here, and I could feel it taking its toll on me. That's probably why my judgment of time is already so out of whack.
I've never felt so bored in my life. Staring at the walls or ceiling gets dull much faster than you'd imagine, and listening to the birds while watching the trees move can only entertain me for so long. After an hour, it's all the same. I'm just left here, trapped, restless, and frustrated beyond all belief.
God, I wish I had my medicine. At least then I could pass time by sleeping.
Every so often, after (I assume, a handful of hours) passed and the man-er, Eyeless Jack, I guess? He'd come in and give me the same mush in a bowl. He'd also do things like check the solution dripping from my IV and poke at my arm to check...Something, I don't know.
Earlier this morning the IV solution ran out and he removed the tube from my arm. About 20 minutes later it regained feeling. So, at least I'm not numb anymore.
It's never felt so good to ball my hand into a fist before.
It's strange, thinking about how fast this became routine. He comes in, brings food, checks something, leaves.
This time though, he did something a little different. He brought a bottle of water in with him. And as soon as I saw it I grasped at it with my now liberated hand, nearly tearing it from his fingertips. He seldom had time to reach the recliner before I already downed half of it. My previously desert throat was suddenly blessed with the purest river to ever spring from creation. It was gone much faster than I wanted it to be. I suppose it's better than nothing, but it certainly isn't enough.
I look back to my captor with a thoughtful gaze. He didn't spend much time here with me, now that I think about it.
Usually, he'd stay just long enough for me to finish eating, then he'd leave right away like he was trying to keep his distance. And that was it. I'd be all alone and bored out of my mind until he came back with more food. No entertainment, no one to talk to, nothing to keep my brain from growing cobwebs.
The only time I was allowed to stand was when he led me to a door on the other side of the room where a toilet hid, and even then he hovered outside the door the entire time.
It was driving me insane, truly. I was actually beginning to look forward to bathroom breaks! Y'know how sad that is? To be excited by the opportunity to poop? I shouldn't be so giddy to sit on a toilet while a masked man stands outside the door the whole time!! >:T
But today, I had a sinking feeling that it would be different. I felt the urge slowly wear me down and tear me apart, until I was left with no choice but to cooperate with its demands. I was gonna ask the biggest question that had been scratching at the back of my mind for days now. Logically, I know I shouldn't do anything to upset him. But, truly, I am a slave to my curiosity.
Eyeless Jack handed me the bowl of mush right after I finished furiously drinking the water. Finally! I get to eat on my own! Right away I shoveled three big spoonfuls into my mouth and swallowed it down eagerly.
He still sat in the chair, though. Just watching me, waiting until I finished. Part of me felt like he was waiting to see if I'd actually eat it, or if he was stuck spoon-feeding me like an infant.
I stared down the bowl, stirring the mush with the provided plastic spoon. (I guess he didn't like the idea of me having metal utensils now that my hand was free.)
I would've kept eating, but my growing urge to ask this uneasy question only left a foul taste in my mouth. I began second guessing my decision as a result. My appetite was stolen away, now replaced by burning curiosity.
I didn't fight it.
"Why did you...kill...that woman?" I asked, eyes lowered and head hanging. I don't bother lifting my eyes to meet the hollow holes of the mask. I knew I wouldn't be able to see any kind of expression come out of them anyway.
He shifted, the sound of fabric rustling being the only thing to indicate this. I would've thought he stood up to leave, but I didn't hear the sound of the leather chair moving, which told me he still sat right there next to me. Same place as always.
The notebook sat on the bed, half leaning on my thigh. I saw a gloved hand slowly slide into my vision, grab the book, and retreat with it. I listened as he popped off the cap of the thick marker he wrote with, the sound of the felt tip scratching away. The strong scent of the alcohol made my head dizzy. It felt like it took an hour for him to write. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I could hear it in my ears.
He slowly turned the book around, hesitantly, as if he was unsure about showing me the response he just wrote out. I almost didn't look.
'I was hungry.'
My heart, which was just in my ears, now dropped all the way to the bottom of my stomach. I stared at the page in shock, my eyes begging the still wet ink to say anything other than what it did.
Despite having just finished an entire bottle of water, my mouth suddenly felt like it was full of sand. "You.....You...ate her?" I asked, my voice hardly audible from the sudden fear I found myself placated in. Tears and sorrow overtook me. Not just for myself, being at his mercy, but for the woman who already felt it. I tried to control my shuddering breaths, but my trembling refused to cease.
'Only the organs.' His movements were getting slower and he wasn't very responsive, almost like he didn't want to turn the book over to show me the writing. Like he was ashamed of it.
He's withdrawing from the conversation, and so was I.
I turned to look at him, his shoulders tensed and his leg began nervously tapping on the concrete floor. It was obvious that he was trying to retreat into himself to avoid me.
Is that why I'm here? To be a snack? A convenient meal for when he gets hungry again? I thought back to the notebook, on one of the last pages, how he said he didn't want to hurt me too. Is it because I wouldn't taste as good if I were damaged?
Choked by my terror, I ended up staying silent. My eyes, not wanting to look at him, drifted towards the ceiling. Bile rose to my throat and I swallowed hard to force it down. Only the organs? As if that makes it better! What, are the organs the most acceptable part of a human to eat? If so, what body part would you draw the line at? Which part is taboo for him?? I frantically shook my head, to banish the thought.
Ate someone. Ate someone! I don't want to believe it. The shame radiating off of him, though, was almost enough to convince me not to. I turned to him, mind going blank as I studied him. A question popped in, the only thought in my head now. I blurted it out, realization that I had spoken it aloud, hitting too late for me to stop it.
"Are you gonna eat me too?" For some odd reason my voice was steady and even. Tremors of horror sent cascading waves through my arms to my fingertips, like an earthquake. I wrapped my hands around one another, as it was all I could do to try and keep the shaking at bay. And yet, my chest didn't throb, and my heart didn't ache. Maybe it was the reaction he had to his own words, the shame of admitting it. It told me there was more than I was seeing.
He turned a page and I glanced back to look at the book. I was afraid to actually see the answer, but morbid curiosity won this round, it seems.
'I don't want to.' My mind flashed back to the hidden note I saw before 'I don't want to hurt you, too.' This one was similar, but not quite as desperate. This one felt like he was bargaining with himself, more than answering me. Something about him feels...Almost tragic.
Still, though. Not wanting to hurt someone doesn't excuse the fact that you did. He's still a killer, he still stole me away from everything I know, he's still keeping me trapped.
But...Again. I keep going back. Back to what he tells me, and how it feels so different from his actions. I'm not sure which one I should believe.
"That implies you don't have a choice." I lifted my eyes to see the hollow sockets of the mask, wishing I could see some kind of emotion other than the etched on sorrow. As I stare at him, I slowly realize, the tears might be more honest than I assumed. If what he says is true, the crying mask fits rather well.
He nodded in agreement, moving the bowl off my lap and placing it atop the little nightstand next to him, since I obviously wasn't eating anymore.
'I can't eat anything else. And I've tried everything.' He underlined the last word. 'Everything'. There was desperation hidden in the spaces between the letters that made my heart ache. My fear and terror suddenly melted away. It felt like I was staring down a wounded dog, one that's covered in scars and is sat bleeding on the floor.
Why does he make me feel...So sorry? Why does my kidnapper make me see him with pity in my eyes?
'Human organs are the only thing I can keep down. And I hate it.' He swiftly turned the book back to me after hastily scribbling. His fists clenched while the sound of teeth grinding came from behind the mask. This is really getting to him. He's so upset by just the memory of this fact. My eyebrows furrowed, as confusion shakes my head. Why do I have so much empathy for him? He's already done so much wrong to me, so why is my heart overruling my head? Why now, of all times, do I have compassion?
What happened to him? If he doesn't have a choice, what made him like this? What's forcing him to cannibalize other people, then? Is someone twisting his arm? What took away his right to choose?
"You don't...want...to eat people?" I prodded, gently. I didn't want to scare him off, but I needed to know more about him. About this situation. About everything. Even without my life being on the line, I need answers.
But, instead of providing me with what I crave, he shakes his head to deny my inquiry. He pushed himself out of the chair slowly, as if he were afraid to startle me. He turned towards the door, but before he could take a step towards it I threw my arm out to catch him.
"Wait!" I called out, grasping at his arm.
My fingers coiled around the sleeve of his jacket, giving him much pause. Slowly, he turned his body -ever so slightly- to look back at me, shock radiating off his entire being. Even without seeing his face, the body language alone was enough to tell me everything; how scared he was of touching me, how off-guard I just caught him, how this was the last thing he'd ever expect.
"Please, stay! I can't take it anymore! If I stare at the walls for a minute longer I'm going to lose my mind!" I shouted out, spewing out any excuse I can find to keep him here. My hand still clutched the fabric of his dark jacket, refusing to let him go.
I saw his body tense. He looked like he was about to pull away, so I gripped on even tighter. "Okay, okay! If you say you aren't going to hurt me, I'll believe you! But please don't leave me alone in here!"
He jolted out of his skin. I guess he wasn't expecting me to say that. -To be honest neither had I.-But, I really was desperate! I'm going stir crazy over here, and besides! There's clearly a mystery around this guy, and I'll lose my mind if I don't solve it! My curiosity is eating away at me.
...As bad as that sounds.
He stood there for what felt like an eternity, the black tears dripping from his mask being the only expression I got out of him. Eventually, he started moving again; even if it was only to look at the notebook clutched in his hand.
He switched his gaze from the notebook to my hand that still holding onto his jacket sleeve. There was a bit of fumbling, but soon enough he managed to actually hold the book in a way where he could write in it. The book was balanced awkwardly on his forearm and every time he got close to the edge of the page he nearly dropped it. If I weren't so desperate, I might've found it funny.
'You want me to stay with you? In here?'
I furiously nodded my head, still holding him in place by the sleeve. Finally! Is he really going to give in?!
Eyeless Jack nodded his head, slowly, and a little awkwardly. I think he was still processing my request.
It seemed like he was going through the motions when he began inching his way over to the recliner. He sat down without much flourish at all, looking a bit like a dog waiting for their owner to give another command. My heart fluttered in my chest. I don't care if all we do is sit in silence at this point! I got him to listen to me! I'm making progress!
Even if I can't figure out this weird mystery while I'm here, having him actually do what I ask could get me closer to escape! I can't seem to stop myself from jumping between wanting answers or wanting freedom. Well, for now I guess I'll pursue them both until one proves more fruitful than the other.
I sat up in the bed and swung my legs over the side, my body now directly facing him. I knew I wouldn't be able to touch the floor with my feet, with how my arm was tied. I had already tried that a while ago. Even still, I was tired of laying down. My bones and joints were all so sore from staying in the same position for so long. I looked at him, studying him more closely than I've ever done before. He's answered my questions so far, but seems touchy when I bring up the terrifying reality that he eats people.
Ok, fine. We can avoid that. Let's try some easy questions for now.
"Why do you wear that mask?" I asked, my head unintentionally cocking to the side with the question. I
He tensed for a moment, before lifting a hand to adjust the mask on his face, making sure it was properly secured and in place. Once he finished with that, he lifted the notebook and began flipping through the pages, searching for an already pre-written answer.
The sound of pages flipping stopped when he found what he was looking for.
'I don't like being stared at.'
Instinctively, I snap my head to the side, eyes now glued to the wall. Ok, that was for sure a call out. I've been staring at him since I got my sight back to normal. Note to self; quit staring at the creepy masked guy, it makes him uncomfy.
I rubbed the back of my hand against my chin as I thought of what else to ask. My mind drifted off, lost in the option, as evidently so did my eyes. I guess I was deeper in thought than I realized, because I didn't even notice that Eyeless Jack had moved until I felt a light tapping on my forehead. I jolted with a sharp inhale, only to see the deep blue mask very close to my face.
'Are you sick?' The notebook was held firmly with hands, and it was only now that I realized he was wearing thick gloves that had been dyed black.
"No--what?" I paused, shaking my head to give me a moment to find the words.
"Why do you think I'm sick? Do I look ill?" I tried to think of something other than how close he was. But, really, it was not an easy task. If he weren't wearing a mask, I'm sure I'd feel his breath on my face.
Does he not understand personal space or something?
I tried retreating a little bit to put some space between us, and this seems to have gotten the message across. He quickly straightened himself out, now standing in front of me.
'Most people don't ask their kidnapper to stay with them. I thought, maybe, I had left you in such terrible conditions that you were starting to hallucinate. Or something.'
My eyebrows furrowed in anger, and my jaw dropped. Excuse me? God, I know tone doesn't translate into writing that well. But man, does it feel like he's calling me out. Again! Is he being serious or sarcastic? I can't even tell!
"Do you joke like this with all your kidnapping victims?" I ask, deciding to take the writing on the paper as sarcastic, and now trying to match it.
'I wouldn't know. You're the first person who's ever seen me. People usually aren't awake at 5:00 AM, so I wasn't prepared to be caught out in the woods like that.'
I let out a huff. Oh, so he's trying to fight me. Ok, let's go mystery man, I wreck your shit!
'Seriously, though. Are you sick? You are very pale and you have bags under your eyes.'
My anger dissipates for a moment. I guess he's being serious now. I lift my free hand to rub the back of my neck, trying to ease the dull ache that's been present since I woke up.
"Oh, yeah. It's just...." I let out a heavy sigh. I've never been the most open when talking about my insomnia, never have. Something about the look people give me when they find out how much I struggle doesn't exactly feel good. I usually just brush it off and move on.
Honestly, with the exception of my family, the only person who knew about my insomnia was Adiyiah. And I've known her for years, so she's seen it first hand since we were kids.
Not to mention, with my current situation, I'm a bit hesitant to start sharing personal information. But, I don't think I have much choice about that here. Besides, it won't hurt for him to know, right?
"I have...insomnia...I haven't been sleeping well because of it." I speak softly with quiet hesitation. I didn't actually want to get the words out and that was fairly plain to see.
'When's the last time you slept?'
"Uhhh..." I paused, not wanting to admit that I've been awake this entire time.It was only like three days, but still.
"Ah- Remember when I woke up? ...Yeah...then." I shifted my body from where I sat, clearly getting antsy now. I suddenly felt like I was being prodded by a teacher and not questioned by a kidnapper.
'Have you been awake this whole time?'
I nodded, feeling like a guilty child who just broke the family vase.
"I had just gotten a new kind of medicine. I'd only been using it for about a week before we went camping. Ah, 'we' as in me and my friend. Do you remember the girl outside the tent I was in? I think you might've...hurt her..." I stop talking once I remember the image of Adi lying face down in the mud. Oh, I was trying to forget about that.
'I didn't kill her, if that's what you're worried about.'
My heart jumps out of my chest and I nearly fall backwards onto the mattress in relief.
She's alive! Oh, thank god!!
'Please, continue.' He calls for my attention to return by wrinkling the corner of the page a little, using the noise to bring me back out of my thoughts.
"Oh, uh, right. The-ah-...The new medicine was the only thing that actually helped me sleep for more than about like...three hours?" I end the sentence with a question while I thought back to the countless nights I've struggled for sleep.
'Are there any other medical issues you have?'
"I-uhh..I got asthma...?" My reply sounded unsure. I didn't know if this was something he counted or not.
Why is he so concerned with my medical history? Should I even be telling him this? I mean, I do have the option to ignore him, but I don't really like the idea of doing that. I only just got him to start listening to me, after all.
Who knows? Maybe he's jumping between two options just like I am. Only, it seems like his options are 'immense guilt' and 'bloodlust'. If he's in the guilt phase right now, I sure hope he stays there for a while.
'Do you have an inhaler?'
"I did. It was in the same bag as my new medicine."
'Where is this bag?'
"At the campsite. In my tent...The one my friend was in front of."
'I see. It's my fault you don't have either, then.'
I mean, yeah, for sure. It is your fault, my guy. But also, compared to the whole KIDNAPPING thing, it's sort of a non-issue. I'd rather be free than have my meds, ya feel me?
Not like I can just say all of that though.
"That's not what I was implying..." I mutter, subtly waving my free arm to dismiss his statement. I really didn't want to risk upsetting this guy, seeing as how he could do absolutely anything to me and I'd be in no position to fight back. Even if he hasn't hurt me yet, it doesn't automatically mean he won't.
'It's my fault you haven't been sleeping. Humans need sleep to function. You shouldn't be waiting until your body crashes just to get some rest.'
That's... A lot more compassionate than I was expecting. What a nice kidnapper. Almost makes up for the kidnapping part!
Wait, hold on. Pause. Why did he write 'humans' like that?
That totally doesn't have any kind of sinister implications at all. Man, I love it here.
Before I could ask him about it, the notebook eclipsing my vision interrupted me. I get it's his only way of talking (or the only one he's choosing), but he's really gotta stop shoving this thing in my face.
'What is your friend's name?'
"...Adiyiah?"
'Full name.'
I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him or not. The last thing I want is for him to target her next. He stood there patiently, waiting for my answer. I wanted to object, or dodge the question, but I had a funny feeling he wouldn't continue unless I gave him the information he was looking for.
"Uhhm. Adiyiah Elise O'Marrow...Whyyy?"
'Just curious.'
With that he lowered the book into his lap and folded his hands neatly over it. Oh, that's not concerning at all! Totally normal and not cryptic in the slightest! Yes sir, nothing weird happening here!
God I hate how this guy operates.
Why does he need to know her name!! He best not be planning something. Ughh!! Was it a mistake giving him the correct answer?? He said he doesn't want to hurt people, but what if he sees her as a threat? Will he abduct her as well just to keep himself safe?
Regret fills me, and I suddenly have my face cradled in my one free hand. I slowly lifted my head, about to question him, but before I could even get the chance he jumped out of the seat. Face -er mask- aimed towards the window, which in turn made me freak tf out.
There was obviously something outside. I craned my head to check out what it was, fearing that maybe something dangerous had been lurking outside the window.
However, I only caught a glimpse of the trees before Eyeless Jack grabbed my face with his gloved hands and snapped my head to look back at him. My body tensed on reflex. He held the sides of my face, forcing my eyes to stare into the endless black voids carved for the eyes.
I blinked a few times at the quickness of it all.
I was so close yet I could see absolutely nothing behind the eye sockets. I've never known the sensation of gazing into nothingness and having it look back.
Slowly, once he realized he had my attention, he pulled his hands away from my face. The leather gloves peeled off my cheeks, where they had been stuck due to the caked on sweat rolling down from my forehead.
He lunged for the notebook on the seat behind him and quickly wrote in a panic. He seldom finished writing the final letter before turning the notebook around and pushing it into my face. Something was obviously wrong, his behavior had shifted so suddenly that I was at a loss for what to do. He looked antsy and nervous, sort of jumping in place while he waited for me to read it.
I guess I was taking too long while contemplating his sudden change, because he just shoved the notebook into my face more aggressively.
Finally, I focused on the page, and felt my heart sink.
'Don't look outside, NO MATTER WHAT. Lay down, don't move, and keep your eyes shut.'