Murder Yours Truly

Daze

I closed my eyes and sighed, dropping my head shamelessly in the chair of a murderer. Who am I? I asked myself, knowing the answer. When I woke up in the cell, my mind insisted on giving up immediately. I didn't put up a fight for even a second. A coward. A forgettable, despicable coward. My chest ached and my head throbbed along with my shoulder. I went into the force for entertainment. A challenge, a thrill. Everyone else wanted to save people, they wanted to do good for others. But me? I'm sitting here, in the middle of a warehouse of killers, doing nothing. The worst part of it was, I didn't even feel shameful for it.

"Well," I sighed to myself, standing up and pulling this oversized hoodie into submission, "what could I do, anyway?" I pushed the chair back under the table and turned to the kitchen. For now, I need to explore. Check my options. He would've made sure I couldn't leave if he planned on me waking up before him... so there shouldn't be an easy way of leaving. Certainly no open doors. The kitchen was busy, working quietly all on its own. A stove with two pots of different foods, one boiling and the other on stand-by was straight ahead from the table. A dark double-door fridge next to it, and dark wooden cabinets hung all around.

    It was empty otherwise. Just an assortment of food. I wonder why he has so much? He's only one person, he mustn't eat this much before most of it goes bad... at the end of the long room was just a lot of shelves. It must be a pantry but without a door. It was tidy, given the over abundance of food that was stored in there. I turned back around and looked at the table. The only other room there was left for me to check was the second bedroom.

    A single sliding door stayed shut in front of me. My heartbeat quieted as tugged on the door handle and it clicked open. Unlocked.. so I should be able to go in here anyway? I couldn't know. Any and all movements I made were unsure here. I could be hurt, killed, or any number of things just by looking at the wrong things without permission. I "should feel safe here"... what does that even mean? It was an impossible feeling to force myself into. I couldn't trust his words just because they were so elegantly and carefully written for me. He had hurt me before.. the only thing I'm still unsure of is why he decided to stop. That's what went through my mind as I simply opened the door to a dark and empty closet. It was small and the lights were off so, it was hard to see anything at all. I squinted and tried to skim the wall for any cracks, maybe an outline of a door. Nothing but flat and even paint.

    It wasn't a large room but the emptiness of it made my footsteps echo just a bit. The light  switch next to the door I entered from, now turned on, made a few bulbs in the ceiling flicker and then, on they stayed. There was a metal pole for hanging things all around the small square room, a small shelf underneath it and, otherwise the room was barren. ..Except for a black, metallic rectangle on one of the shelves in the back. A phone? No bigger than that. I stepped nearly three full-length steps before I reached a tablet. Could be a trap, could be an oversight. I was willing to take my chances on this one. My heartbeat throbbed, the screen was off but it seemed new. No cracks. It doesn't seem broken. I pushed the power button and once the screen lit up and showed me the date, the time, and a solid black background. I was barely breathing.