Beguile

Chapter 21

Was it a dream?

It must be.

Kurt wouldn't stoop that low, right?

I woke up to the sound of droplets. I squinch my eyes to adjust from the little particles swimming on my vision amidst the gloom of oncoming sundown. My shoulders feels stiff and my head is heavy, but somehow I don't feel thirsty anymore.

I look around, still seeing the peeling white paint and flooding floor. The leaking water pipe is the only rhythm that covers the squeaks of rats and their little legs running on the mushy floor.

It's still the same.

I need to accept it somehow, that he is capable of murder.

A very familiar silhouette appeared from the mist of darkness. He is holding a water-bottle, opened but full to the brim. Then I glance at the broken water-pipe with the water which seems to be clear as day, but the pipe covered with moss and rust seasoned with rat fur.

"You fainted."

I already feel nauseas from thinking why I'm no longer thirsty.

"You should take care of yourself."

I've been tied here for hours with cramping legs, how am I gonna do that?

But of course I didn't say a word. I kept quiet like I always do. Useless remarks wouldn't get me far.

Kurt pulled up a chair. He put it beside me and then sat there with a low sigh. "If you are hungry, tell me. If you're in pain, call for me. You don't have to hold it in, all Im doing is what's best for you." I flinch when his palm laid on my cheek, his thumb is softly rubbing on my skin and I can hear how his breath was getting heavy. But it was far from genuinity. Far from being sincere. His breath and touch are warm, but his eyes are far from that. The once seemingly bored orbs widened in fascination. He looks more alive, but more inhumane. Even his voice felt different. "Isn't it great? You don't have to do anything, all you have to do is rely on me... I'll be at your beck and call."

"Where is Lucas." I ignored him, even though this is what I wished before. I wanted to hide myself from danger. I wanted someone to protect me, and feed me, and take care of me. All the things a pathetic coward would wish for, but I already learned my lesson. For these people, its victims are like chickens... They take care of them, so they can season them to their likings.

He pulled back his hand. His eyes molded back into their coldness.

"Lucas has never been better."

"What does that mean?"

He smiles with an unchanged gaze. "He asked for something and I gave it to him, and thats it. I never expect him to be so simple."

"What are you trying to say? Just answer me, is he alive or dead?!!"

His answers are vague, and its making me impatient. I feel the irk climb through my head. I wanted to slap him, and slam him for betraying us but the strings would dig deeper onto my skin and I might lose a wrist if I struggle further.

He huffed a breath, the night is getting cold. "How about you see him for yourself."

His words hasnt been making sense, neither does his change of behavior.