The third time you woke up, it felt different.
Besides the telltale drowsiness and foggy memories, there was a hint of… bliss?
Your eyes fluttered open, "...what?"
"Welcome back."
Your head swayed back and forth testing its weight.
"My neck… hurts," you said quietly. There was a circle of sunlight on your chest from the window, and if you were to guess, it hadn't been long since your last sedation. The thought was fleeting, however, and it was most likely the results of the drugs your captor had given you.
"I would like to apologize about earlier. I realize that this must be a very stressful situation for you considering the circumstances. But you must understand, I didn't take much time with the last woman I crossed passed with," you heard his voice from behind, inching his way closer to your ear. Fear sprouted in the pit of your stomach, but the feeling was heavily muted.
His hands were warm, you could feel them through the nightgown you wore, and he inched them towards the corner were your shoulders met your neck.
The man squeezed there, just a little, as if to garner a reaction from you, but you didn't give him one.
Unsatisfied, you felt him unbutton the buttons on your back and peel the top of your gown forward, exposing your bare shoulders and allowing his devious hands direct access to your skin.
When he put his hands down again, he started to rub the area, and you shook your head with displeasure.
"Don't touch me..."
He squeezed hard and you grunted quietly in pain, the drugs making you complacent as he began to rub the tension in your neck without warning, sadistically drawing small sounds from your lips.
"You see," he began, his voice hinting at how much he was enjoying this predicament, "the last woman I visited had to be... dealt with... faster than I had liked."
Barely registering what he was saying, you lulled your head back to face him, "I hate you."
He slowly blinked at your statement as he looked down. His eyes trailed over your body, from the light that projected onto your chest, to your exposed collarbones up to your lips, and lastly, your half-lidded eyes and blown out pupils.
"You don't mean that," he said softly, "you haven't even had the chance to know me yet."
"I mean it," you blinked back at him. "I hate you."
Tanner was smitten; he knew then that the woman in front of him would be one of his favorites.
You hissed when he squeezed the spot again and you jerked your head to the side. He let go of you, petting the top of your head for a moment before he sat down in front of you again.
"You received a letter in the mail," he said, taking an envelope out from his inside pocket, "I haven't read it yet."
"Good for you."
"Oh there's no need for sarcasm."
"Or what? You'll kill me?"
He tilted his head, "I could do something much worse than kill you."
The threat went over your head, the corners of your lips rising as a giggle slipped out, slowly building until you found yourself in a laughing fit.
Tanner almost looked confused, but quickly turned back to his old self. "Oh yes, hysteria: one of the side effects of Diazepam."
"You gave," you said between laughs, "you gave me that?" Breathing in and out deemed harder than you had thought you tried to stifle your little girlish giggles.
"Yes," he took out a vial, the liquid inside half empty as he read the label, "I hope I didn't overdue the dosage, but really, you gave me no choice." He placed the vial back in his pocket, picking up the letter from his lap as he looked over your body again. He was using it to stay grounded, and much to his dismay, his hands were beginning to shake.
"I'll… have to give you something to sober you up. Although," he swallowed, "I don't mind how you are now…"
The sunlight from the window inched upwards with every millisecond, the top of the beam lighting up the base of your neck while the rest was obscured by the shadow of Tanner's head. Your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath-your head tilted downwards as you looked up at him, and your mouth was parted as you sucked in the attic's dry air.
"...being more talkative, and all."
Your mouth slammed shut, and Tanner unknowingly ripped a tear in the letter he had in his hands, his head snapping down to it. "Yes! Let's get to ah… reading."
Calmed down from your fit, you looked around the room, your mind thinking up outrageous ways to escape.
"This one's from Mason McManus… heh, that's quite a funny name."
"...like you're one to talk."
Tanner looked at you again with a sparkle in his eye, "I suppose you have a fair point."
He ripped open the envelope, a yellow tinted paper inside, and took out the letter. "And it's handwritten! How old fashioned…"
You weren't really concerned with what he was doing, the window in the room showing you just how bright and blue the sky was, and how you were missing it.
"Dear (Y/n), I'm so sorry about what happened to your mom. I know that you two were close. I tried reaching out to you online, but you didn't answer any of my emails so this is my last resort. I wasn't sure to go to your house, but I didn't want to invade your privacy. I'll admit that things have been difficult between us, but I just want you to know that I love you, and if you ever need me, I'll be there for you... Love, Mason"
He read it again to himself quietly, soaking up all of the details.
"Now tell me, just who is this Mason McManus fellow? Is he your boyfriend?"
He looked at you, expecting a response.
"It isn't really your business is it, Tanner?" You put emphasis on his name, displeased by the sound of his voice. All he did was smile, that fucking smile.
"Oh you don't really have to tell me. I already know everything about you."
"Hah, really?"
"Yes. Really."
"That's funny," you said, raising an eyebrow, "because I know everything about you."
It was Tanner's turn to scoff.
"No! Don't laugh. I know everything about you. I know that you aren't a real doctor and that you bought that so-called lab coat off of etsy for three cents."
"Three cents?"
"Yeah. I also know that you think your haircut is cool, when it's actually pretty douchey looking!!"
"What…?"
"Uh huh, and lastly, what you're most insecure about, is your billboard forehead!"
"My… billboard forehead?"
"Yes," you nodded.
"Are you done?"
"For now."
Tanner began meticulously folding up the letter and placing it back into its envelope.
"Well," he sighed, "I know that you were an accident."
Your ears perked at his statement.
"You were a surprise, as your parents thought they were too old to have a child, but despite the complications of your birth, you were born a healthy 7.2 lbs."
"You could've guessed that."
"Really? How about the fact that when you started school, you were bullied because of your elderly parents and to distract yourself, you devoted all your time to studying. But their mocking and jokes still got to you, didn't it?"
You watched him carefully as he put the letter to the side, and slowly slid off the chair to the floor, his eyes not leaving your own one second.
"It wasn't until your father died when you were 15 did your grades falter. And people, although trying to be sympathetic, told you that it was something to be expected."
He crawled over to your side, his head tilted over your lap.
"And when you were 17…"
He snaked his hand on your tied ankles, and began to drag his fingertips upwards under your gown.
"You were hit by a car. Leaving you with a scar… on the inside of your left thigh…"
You tried pinching his hand with your roped together knees, but before you could, he slipped his hand out and settled his hand on the back of your leg.
He was leaning his head fully on your lap now, looking up at you with his usual childlike expression.
"You're a stalker."
"All I did was do my research."
You kicked your leg up and he let go, but to your dismay, just placed his hand down under his chin. He was starting up at your delirium, his eyes innocent while his thoughts took on a darker nature.
"I can't wait to taste you…"