Two Were in May [ON HOLD//COMPLETE REVISION]

V

"I'm going to let my hands go from your eyes, but promise me you won't look, okay baby?" Dylan whispered this in her ear, watching the goosebumps form on her arms as he said so.

She swallowed and hastily replied, "Yes," as she was more nervous than excited to see what waited behind the large, black door.

"Good. I'm going to remove my hands now," and he did as promised.

Kaitlin was confused by Dylan's sudden actions of opening up to her. Her feelings for him used to be the typical "chills go down your spine" feeling that had been described in the many romance novels she had read. But this, this was so; odd. She had displayed feelings of trust to Dylan, and she wasn't faking them, so why was she scared out of her mind?

Just as she was about to protest, she heard the final clicks of, what she assumed to be, the door's many locks. "It's too late," she decided.
Waves of panic seemed to drown her insides when Dylan grabbed her hand and lead her through the doorway. This situation was wrong; she now accepted that. The only problem was that she couldn't convince herself to object.

-

The smell was so strong that it made her stumble. Must was the only thing she could sense.

"Okay, stay right here sweetheart." Dylan said as he guided her to a spot right next to the dark door.

He locked the five gold heavy duty locks on the door with his long keys. Glancing to his right, he saw Kaitlin flinch a little at the sound; she was obviously on edge. He would have told the girl not to worry or to relax, but she should be worried.

He walked to the left now, standing in front of his wall of instruments. All of them were held up by a nail, hanging there, practically screaming at him, "it's been too long!" He smiled at his wide array of torture devices. Hammers, nails, a wrench, some bloody screws, rusty hedge clippers, a meat clever, a machete, a simple pair of common house scissors, gasoline, matches. And, of course, the necessities: cloth, chloroform, handcuffs and rope.

"Um.. Dylan? Are you still there?"

Her voice took him away from his paradise and he snapped his body around so he was facing her. Just as he opened his mouth, he closed it. "I'll make her wait even longer. That's real torture," he thought to himself.

With a plan already set out, he rushed to her right side and gently grabbed her arm.

"Come this way, baby. My surprise is still coming, don't worry." He smiled a hellish smile right next to her ear as he guided her to his metal operating table. It was equipped with an overhead light and brown leather straps that went across the victim's throat, wrists, stomach and ankles.

"It'll be cold and uncomfortable but don't worry about that. You'll get used to it."

Gently, he helped her up on the table and made sure she was aligned with the leather straps.

"Yeah, you were right." She nervously laughed when she said this, it was a weak attempt to brighten the mood. Dylan laughed with her, which eased her nerves, but for a different reason. He knew she was trying to calm down and he knew that in a few minutes she would be pleading for her life and asking God, "why?"

"I'd never hurt you Kaitlin, promise." He laced his lie with a different type of poison this time. He calmed her down, but made her uneasy at the same time. Now she wasn't sure about anything. She had no idea what this surprise would be.

-

"Open your eyes, honey."

His whispers seemed so far away but they rang clear in her head. Had she fallen asleep? She had a massive headache all of the sudden. She opened her eyes and drew back slightly at the sudden burst of light attacking her pupils. She went to lift her arm up to her face, but it wouldn't move.

"What the hell..." she was more confused than she had ever been. She tried to sit up, but something was restricting her torso too. All she could do was lift her neck. She raised it up slowly and, to her horror, she saw leather straps binding her wrists, ankles and torso to the cold metal table. She didn't panic, but was still terrified by what had been done to her.

"Ow, shit." she cursed quietly to herself when she felt the pain in her head that reminded her of her headache. Kaitlin squeezed her eyes shut from the horrible pain. She lay there like that for a few minutes.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Her eyes immediately opened when she heard the noise. She held her breath.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

As the steps picked up their pace, so did her breathing. At this point she had no clue if it was even Dylan or not. And, examining her position, she had no hope of escape. She had never been one for a religion, but now she called out to God.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

They were moving even faster now; if they were footsteps, it was like their owner was running towards her.

"Please God please make everything alright I am so scared,"

Click. Click. Click.

The noises continued.

Kaitlin turned her head to the left, the direction of which the noises were coming from. Suddenly she realized how dangerous her situation was. She could only see her body on the table and nothing more. Dylan was no where in sight. Who's to say this was even his house? A tsunami of panic started to drown her and she desperately started to thrash against the leather straps in a weak attempt to break free. Soon, Kaitlin realized that this was doing nothing to help her cause. She squeezed her eyelids tight together and a single tear from each eye flowed from her cheeks all the way onto the table. A weak squeal emitted from her soul; perhaps it was her white flag to her horrible ordeal.

After her realization of her hopelessness, the noises stopped. She stopped breathing; she couldn't even attempt to taste the stale oxygen because of her mind numbing fear. Her brain was on fire; slowly deteriorating. Her body was lead.

Then, faintly, she heard the breaths of someone else in the room. She had no idea who or what it was. She had no idea where they were at. All she knew was that she was not alone.

All of a sudden, a second light was turned on. In the center of the room, there stood Dylan.

If there was a devil, it was Dylan she decided. His smile curled across his face and his eyes had no spark or any means of life to them. He was gone. The sweet Dylan who she wanted to get to know was gone. All Kaitlin could do was lay there and stare and him with her mouth agape. Dark blue veins traced across his arms. Kaitlin could see the veins in his neck pulsing. In his right hand, he clutched a machete. His left, although unoccupied, was balled into a fist. She saw how white his knuckles were even from how far away he was.

Then, he started to walk to her. She was almost choking on her heart and everything went numb.

"I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die." She believed this statement wholeheartedly.

He was only a foot away from her now. Her eyes instinctively closed shut and this time she didn't try to stop the tears. She felt a cool surface touch her bare neck.

"Goodbye..." she croaked out loud.

All she could feel was pain.