~Beauty~
Carina had come in the morning not to help Beth escape but to help her clean up.
The sound of locks turning had woken her up and she barely had enough time to unattach herself from the door when it was opened. She stumbled back and onto her feet.
"Did you fall asleep on the floor, dear? That must have been mighty uncomfortable." Carina shook her head. "You poor thing. You look horrible."
Beth snorted. Had she come in to insult her?
The woman bounced back from the small damper in her attitude. "No worries. Nothing a good bath can't fix - or a shower. You chose!"
Carina shifted to reveal that she was carrying a towel, loofa, and bar of soap. She handed it over to Beth and motioned for her to follow.
Beth hated her situation - and was debating whether she should hate this lady - but she had to admit a shower sounded heavenly. Not to mention, Beth was happy that it was her that had come to visit her in the morning and not the Beast. His . . . beastly face was hovering in her mind. She questioned whether she had imagined it a couple times throughout the night. As strange and as unnatural as it was - it was just a mosquito buzzing in her ear. The more pressing issues regarding the Beast was whether he was serious about keeping her trapped here with him and for how long. Was he going to hurt her? And what role did this sweet-looking lady play in it all?
Carina led her to a bathroom, while fondly humming a gospel song Beth recognized. She couldn't help but notice her proximity to the front door.
"Go on inside and take your time. I'll be out here tidying up!"
Beth gasped when she stepped into the bathroom. It was really nice. The shower stall and bath were separate so she could really choose a bath or shower. And the sinks - yes plural - had marble countertop space around it with shiny knobs.
"I know! This isn't even half of what the upstairs bathroom used to be!" Carina added, sounding like she was trying to sell the house to her. Perhaps, she was in a sense.
"Used to be?"
"Trust me, everything beautiful is here on this first level." Tapping her lip, Carina must have decided everything was set as she walked away. Beth had the door halfway closed when she called back, "How do you like your eggs?"
"Uh . . . over easy."
She wasn't sure how she felt accepting food from the stranger who was living with a serial killer. What was she to him? A maid? His mother? And would the food be safe to eat?
"Good, a change of menu! I'm tired of making them scrambled for that boy . . ."
As Beth settled into the shower she decided that the fancy interior of the bathroom didn't matter to her. The only part of it she really appreciated was that the door locked on the inside, giving her the peace that she could keep people out if she wanted to.
~The Beast~
He had changed out of his pajamas for breakfast for the first time in months. Nothing in his dresser seemed quite right for the 'having breakfast with your prisoner' occasion. Everything was too intimidating. He wished for the first time that he owned something that wasn't black or merch from a heavy metal band.
When the smell of eggs and bacon filled his nostrils, he went downstairs with his mask in hand, debating whether he should put it on. He usually only wore it when he was out and after somebody but with the girl there . . .
"Don't tell me you're gonna put that thing on at the table?" Carina asked, her hand gripping a spatula on her hip. "You'll scare her . . . and you won't be able to get the food in your mouth."
"Gee, I wouldn't want to ruin the great relationship I have with her already," he replied bitterly. He tossed the mask to the side and took a seat at the breakfast bar. "I don't get why you can't send the food to her room. She won't want to see me. I don't even know what to say to her."
She dropped his plate in front of him, raising a gray eyebrow. "How about introducing yourself? Do you even know her name?"
He growled. "It's not all as obvious as you make it seem! I've never kidnapped anyone before."
"Then why'd you start now? I told you you shouldn't have brought her here."
"And I told you it was an accident!"
"That's a load of -"
The bathroom door opened and out stepped the girl. It was the first time he had gotten a good look at her. She was short, he'd be surprised if she was anything over five feet tall. Her brown hair hung half way down to her hips matched with eyes a few shades darker. Her skin was a shade between olive and light brown, her forehead dotted with acne. She jumped back at the sight of us. He quickly chewed and swallowed the piece of toast in his mouth.
"Join us." She stood in place, his invitation flying through her like a ghost.
"Please, be our guest!" Carina added with a wink, patting the seat farthest from him. Pulled over by the plate set for her, she sat down and picked at the food.
He was lying when he told Carina he had no idea what to say to the girl. He had come down with a clear list of things he wanted to get off his chest. Better explaining why she was here in the first place was at the top and establishing rules for her stay was a close second. He decided to listen to Carina's advice and start at introductions.
"What was your name again?" He had heard it a few times in the midst of the chaos the day prior but it hadn't stuck. He didn't think he would have to memorize it.
Her eyebrows knitted together. "Bethany."
He nodded. "Yes, I remember. Your mother called you Beth."
Carina's head snapped back at him from her place at the sink, scrubbing the dishes. She was scowling.
Bethany was squeezing her fork so tightly he thought she might use it as a weapon. "It's Bethany. You may never call me Beth."
"Okay, Bethany."
There was a few minutes of silence as he tried to figure out a way to get the conversation back on track. He was drawing blanks. Carina was unhelpful, hyper focused on loading the dishwasher.
"Are you his maid?" She was speaking low and had even turned her seat to face the opposite wall.
Carina chuckled. "Yes and I do not get paid enough for all I put up with - I'd tell you."
He rubbed his face.
He had to save this conversation.
He noticed she was wearing the same outfit she was from the night before and offered, "She could buy you some fresh clothes for your stay here if you'd like."
Wrong thing to say, he thought as she gaped at him.
"My stay? Are you running a bed and breakfast? How long are you planning to keep me here?" Bethany slammed her fork into her plate, mouth twitching. "You can't feed me and dress me like I'm some baby alive doll!"
He slammed his own fork into the plate. The difference was his plate cracked from the force. "Would you rather starve and walk around in smelly rags?"
She stood up, managing to make herself appear even tinier. "Smelly?! Are you four?"
He stood up and pointedly looked down at her. "No but you look like you might be!"
"I am an adult and you should be the last one here talking about looks!"
Their bickering had morphed into a staring contest as they both squinted at each other with clenched fist. Bethany gave in first, sitting down to finish her eggs in silence.
He took her silence as an opportunity to get out everything he wanted to uninterrupted. "This is my house and you are in it. I don't want to keep you here any longer than I need to but I have to find somewhere else to go prior to letting you go. You will follow three simple rules; One, don't try to escape. Two, don't go up to the second level. Three, don't do anything to hurt yourself."
"Hurt myself?"
He took his last piece of toast off his broken plate and dumped it in the trash near Carina's feet. "I don't want a dead body in my house."
Bethany snickered. "Says the serial killer. You expect me to believe you care if I get out of here alive or not? You're the Beast."
Something in the young man's chest throbbed painfully. She called him by his street name with so much malice. It fell off her lips and onto the ground with heavy weight. The name held so many assumptions and accusations. He was used to hearing it from the news outlets and cops but hearing it from a single person made it feel different.
"It's Teigan," he said, jaw clenched. "My name is Teigan. You may never call me the Beast."
With that he turned and left. As he bounded up the stairs he heard Bethany grilling his maid. The last question he heard her ask was, "Are you trapped here, too?"
But weren't they all in a way?
~The Hunter~
Grayson wanted to shout at his professor.
How could he be lecturing them all on the parts of a cell when his best friend was missing?
It was about to be 72 hours since Beth was taken. He had read that the first 72 hours were the most crucial in a missing person's case. The articles said that it was very rare for the case to be solved once the time was up. It made evidence harder to find and the likelihood of the person being found alive decreased dramatically.
He hadn't let himself think about the possibility that she might be dead already. In his mind, she was alive and she would be found. The whole ordeal had caused a mist to settle in his head. It made everything around him dream like. He was just waiting to wake up and when he did he would go over to Beth's apartment and hug her.
He never woke up.
It was a hard thing to do when he never allowed himself to sleep. His parents had urged him to try to attend one of his classes for the distraction but sitting there at his desk, he felt sick. Witnessing first hand how the world kept spinning without Beth was unsettling.
He snuck out of the classroom and to the football field. He wouldn't be able to make it to practice today. His body already ached as if he had run all the different drills. He laid on the bleacher's wishing he could do something. He hated having to wait for the police to find a lead and pursue it. He wanted to be out there searching for her. When she got back he wanted the ability to say that he spent every second fighting for her return.
The police said they'd do everything in their power to find Beth and he knew they would because where Beth was, was where the most wanted murderer in NYC was. She would be found soon.
Maybe the Beast wouldn't kill her. He was only known to hurt criminals. Before this incident, Grayson had been one of the people who latched onto the conspiracy theory that he was a vigilante and no real threat to society. He had even supported what he did. There were criminals the police couldn't catch but he did. Who cared what he did with them? They were out of the city's hair.
His feelings towards the masked man had altered. The nickname 'The Beast' almost made him convulse.
Beth - wherever you are - stay alive.