Wasting a good body

4- A normal day

The rooms strong smell of bleach stung his nostrils, it was masking the strong smell of death that still hing strong in the air. A unique stench of blood and bodily fluids lay under the chemical smell, Jack did not know which one he preferred, neither. His arms and hands were slowly loosing circulation due to being tied above him, apparently Mark didn't trust him enough to stay on the small length of rope that allowed him to lay his hands in his lap. the hunter thought that he'd be able to escape and Jack didn't doubt it. He didn't know what her was capable of, he simply didn't remember.

The boy shifted in his place, the cold floor was numbing his behind as well. He was glad that the room was still warm from what he assumed to be the heater on, but it didn't stop him from shivering. He still felt cold in his core which probably wasn't good. That and he felt sick, his head pounded with every little sound and every break he drew in and out. His muscles still ached as if he was standing in the cold snow, they screamed at him to stop when he flexed or stretched. He was weak of all of this and with the addition of an upset stomach from what he thought might be the flu, he was uncomfortable.

Jack rested his head on the rough cold surface of the cement behind him, it relaxed his neck muscles but it didn't stop the pounding in his head.

His head had been running around trying to find why he had been out on such a cold night like Mark described. Even with his memory loss he still knew that it was common sense not to go out in such cold weather with such little clothing on. a jumper that seemed to be more for fashion than for warmth and jeans that would have a batter time fighting off water than they did the cold. He had been told that he also had been holding onto a flashlight. This lead him to believe that had gone out looking for something or someone.

Oh how he wished that he hadn't gone out looking for someone, chances were that they were probably frozen to death was well. In a way, he was glad that Mark had found him and let him be warm, other wise he wouldn't be alive right now.

Although, sitting tied up in someone's basement didn't exactly scream 'living'.

Whatever life Jack had lead before was something that he was puzzled by. He wore normal clothing of a middle class man with a kept body. He went out looking for someone in the cold with little help against the cold and held nothing in his wallet save for two IDs with contrasting names. What kind of life did he lead?

He wondered if he was a family man/ If he had a girlfriend looking for him or if no one missed him at all. He subconsciously hoped that there was no one looking for him, just so they wouldn't be heartbroken when he was never found. He knew he'd likely die by the hands of the mad man that liked to cut people up.

Oh well, at least there wouldn't be anything to miss.

Jack's thoughts were distracted when he heard the basement door open slowly, banging against the stair railing. He made a small noise out of his gag, Mark had put it on him when he said that he was going out for food and alcohol. He didn't look like a man that regularly stocked his fridge.

Sure enough Mark emerged from the darkened stairs into the small hanging light from the ceiling. He held his pocket knife in one hand and a health bar in the other hand. He didn't bother to acknowledge the boy or look at him. He simply threw the bar to him, it slid to his side but the man was powerless to pick it up, all he could do was glance down at it.

" Do you need the toilet?" Mark asked, glancing at the man while he faced his workbench.

Jack nodded his head making a small noise that resembled 'yes'. He had been needing to pee for a while now, he could definitely hold it, but it was better to let it out now then possibility peeing himself later.