Murder Yours Truly

Dimmer

    He stood back up, stiff and hesitant. I stayed leaned against the wall, eyes wide open and staring at every move he made. The bat rested on his shoulder, both hands on the handle... he's getting ready to swing.. His pupils thinned, the bat was thrown behind him for a full-force swing. His muscles tensed all around his wrists and his eyes stayed right beside my face... he's not going to land it... I knew it just as he did. The bat cut through the air and paused right before it slammed into my cheek bone.

    I knew he wouldn't even scrape my skin with that one, but the power and force he put behind it was enough to fool anyone. He wanted to see how scared I was of him before he started something worse. My heart was sinking and throbbing all the way down my spine... but I didn't show it to him. I gave him a blank, displeased stare hoping that my whitened skin still held some color. The bat held in the air next to my face for two seconds and was dropped back to the floor along with his whole body. He stared at me again, looking at my expression. Maybe he missed something.

    His soft hands went up to the bottom of his mask, his thumb pressing on its thin frame and lifting it from his chin upwards. Slowly but smoothly, his face was revealed.

The throbbing in my chest didn't settle. It turned to something more than fear, though. Something different. New. His fair skin was released from the plastic mask that held it. His closed eyes looked dark behind his black hair falling around them. Oceans of blue caught light from virtually no where. His eyes fell upon me as his long, gentile eyelashes opened. I opened my mouth to speak but now words fell out. The hell? Why is someone like him in a place like this? His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes squinting. A gust of air escaped through his nose. Is he getting frustrated? "What's wrong?" I asked him but, I knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, he leaned closer, our noses nearly touching. "What?" My voice shook a little as he inspected me more and more. It took my nerves off the edge they were already on.

Pushing on his bat, he picked himself back up and stared down at me. He looked almost furious with me. Was holding back my fear the wrong choice? It's too late to turn back now... before I could focus, he threw his bat back, and then swung it on me. the bones on my shoulder clasped a metal bat like a small hit-and-run. A thousand knives pulled at my skin where I was surly bleeding. My wrists throbbed where the sharp edges of cuffs nearly broke my skin in two. Had I not been restrained, I would've fell face-first into the musty floors. Down again the man went, inspecting my flooded eyes and gritted teeth. He slowly pulled my chin up to get a better look, his calm eyes barely glanced at me. The pain was all I could focus on, anyway. His soft touch didn't bother me. All I wanted to do was hold the inevitable tears and groans. "What? Are you bored? Am I not entertaining you?" The anger in my voice was obvious but I choked back enough to mask it a little.

He blinked, the coldness in his eyes didn't change. His focus shifted to my shoulder. Light touches were pressed around my arm, the feeling bothered me. I wanted to stay still enough for nothing to touch my now bloody arm. I'm sure my sleeve stuck to it and soaked up a bit of it. He pulled the bottom of it up, trying to see the damage. I know this is only the beginning of a long journey.. but-.. the cool air slowly made its way up my arm. I tried not to look but, I needed to know what he planned to do. The skin around my cracked and open wound was grazed and I threw my eyes on him. "Stop," I sighed, the tears finally making their way down my cheek, "Stop touching me."

He glanced at my face, knowing what he'd see.. he intended on looking immediately away and ignoring me but something made him stare right at my eyes. The light changed in his expression again. Instead of shining with rage, it held a different intention.

The bat was left where it was, it clanged on the metal bench until it found a resting point in the corner. The man tugged his white shirt up and over his head all in one go. The throbbing in my chest quickened and the pain in my shoulder filled my head more often. His body was shaped so well, sculptures could've been made of him and no one would've known the difference. He was pale, tall, fair skinned, and his muscles were present yet not overbearing. "What are you doing?" I said in a cold, tired voice that winced to the pain. He leaned over, his slow focused movements didn't feel threatening at all. He folded the shirt into a thick band, placed it behind my arm, and slowly pulled it around my wound. I watched quietly and flinched to every slow and gentile move he made unintentionally. The white shirt was thin on its own but the way he wrapped it around my arm provided enough pressure to sustain the bleeding and, eventually, stop it.

    I was puzzled. Entirely confused. "You're supposed to make me suffer, aren't you? I'm supposed to die by your hand. So, why—" his hands gripped my jawline loosely but quick enough to make me stop questioning his actions. His face hung over mine, the oceans of deep blue were closer than I expected. My heart fluttered, his lips almost touching mine. I could feel his steady breath on my skin, faster than before. Is he going to... I closed my eyes tight. The only thing I could feel was the numbness in my legs, the fast pulse in my chest and shoulder, and him.

    His lips grazed against my bottom lip for only a moment. Then they fell away again. He pulled my chin away, forcing me to look at the wall beside me. His soft lips pressed against my cheek, remaining there for longer than any normal peck. He pulled away slowly, his eyes focused on the ground between us. Why is he doing this? Is it some sort of mental treatment? Is he trying to get in my head? Eyes wide, I watched as he picked up his bat, slid his mask over his face, and left the room. All in one quiet gust of wind.

    What the hell just happened?