AntiXReader| what're you doing to me?

Part Five: Encounter in the Dark

-Anti's pov-
There's light coming through the small window above the bed as I stood against the wall for the 5th hour. I plan and plan, but nothing seems right for the situation. I can't help but think about how bad their hands must hurt and how heavy the chain must be on their hips now as they sit out there in the pitch black. While parts of me are excited by the thought, some quiet side of my brain feels like this shouldn't be what's happening. A small piece of me wants to loosen those chains and let whatever happens happen; whether it be that they leave or not.
I sharpen the knives and clean the whips in the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and just stare. Something is so different. Like I'm feeling everything at once. I feel ruthless, ready to tear them apart, but also soft; I want to coddle them and make them mine. This feeling is like that of a cult leader when they torture and love.
I collect my things and walk out into the dark. I see them still laying in the corner, curled on the cold floor. Why do I all of a sudden hate this sight? This should be marvelous to me. They shuffle and wine in their slumber as I make slight creaking noises on the wood floor heading toward the kitchen area.

-Y/n's pov-
I wake up laying down, still chained in place. I hear the clang of metal in the dark and look around begging my eyes to adjust. With the slight neons outside, everything that can be illuminated is a faint red. I see him organizing tools and scuffling around, almost like he was pacing nervously.
I sit up and clear my throat causing him to jump and turn to me, but that nervousness soon turned to enthuse and he smirked.
"Good, you're up. I didn't want to have to wake you myself." With that he holds up what looks like a large dagger. A decorative handle leads to a double sided shining blade which thinness can be made out even in this light. I shudder and try to compose myself. The very last thing I want to do here is show fear. That's what he wants.
"Looks like I'm glad too."
"Would you like unchained, y/n?"
"Depends on what that means for me. Just physical freedom? Or is there something in it for you?"
He chuckles coming closer,"ha, smart one. Always ask for the catch first."
As he reaches me he kneels slowly meeting my eyes and bringing the blade to my neck, pressing the side firmly against me.
"But what's the fun in ruining the surprise?"
"I don't like surprises," I say with a small smile and squinted eyes, going against every will in my body to show fear, but in all honestly, I'm not too scared.
"Then it shouldn't matter either way, huh? Now, chained, or unchained?
The catch? Well I don't think there is one to be honest with you."
I think for a second. I don't know if I want to run the risk of not being able to fight, even tho I probably won't anyways.
"Unchained."
"Ah, I suspected."
He sits the dagger down by my feet and pulls a clamp from his pocket. He used it to twist the bounded chains from eachother, dropping them from my body.
"There, now follow me." He stands and holds a hand out for me. Only now am I noticing the sharp black nails he has.
I take his hand and stand up pulling myself close to him. I look him in the eyes with my melancholy expression and see him grow more eager. There's something he loves about someone who isn't afraid of him. Maybe it's the build up.
Maybe it's the hunt of trying to find that fear deep inside of his victims.
Something tells me I'm not treated like the rest.

-Anti's pov-
As I look inside their eyes with their hand in mine, there's a feeling of tension in the air. I can see them look around my face for an expression, reading me like a book. I bite my lip waiting for them to say something; instead, they wink at me and begin giggling. I'm taken aback and I cock my head to the side in confusion.
"What? I can't make it a little playful?"
They say, letting go of my hand and leaning against the wall, landing on the lightswitch. The lights flicker above us and flip on exposing the room once again for what it is- a slaughterhouse.
"You should really clean this place up." They poke fun all the while never breaking eye contact. "I see you started with the tools, also, don't forget the one on the ground. I just might grab it for myself."
"Why are you like this?" I ask, thoroughly curious as to what invokes the giddy nature in this kind of situation. They start to walk toward the table where various weapons are layed out and inspects them while speaking.
"When someone wants to make you feel scared; when someone wants to worry you, bug you, disturb you, you can't let them know its working. In your case you can't tell whether its really scaring me or not, but in my case, I can tell for a fact what I'm doing is working on you."
"So even in very real danger, you go with the 'don't let it get to you' approach?" I ask
"isn't it working?"
Im shocked.
I suppose it is. I was being fooled and I didn't even realize.
"There's also a matter of a mental placebo. Pretend you're not scared long enough," they stop and hold a kitchen knife up to their throat. It makes me jump, but they continue.
"..and suddenly, you really aren't."
They put the knife down with a smile.
There's such a strong strategy in mind games. That's usually my strong suit, getting into people's heads, but they're already a master.

-y/n pov-
It's working I guess, just in a way I didn't expect. Instead of being apprehensive of him, I crave him. I want so badly for him to chain me back up even though I wanted to be free before. Now that I'm back in his presence, I want him to have power over me. As I face the various tools, I can hear him creep slowly behind me, he comes so close his foot stops between my heels and I can feel his steady breathing. He reaches up with his left arm, slipping around me and grabbing my throat, pulling my head back to his chest. His other arm finds its way around my waist, dagger in hand, pulling me all the way against him.
He growls in my ear, "Move without permission, and I gut you like a fish."
My knees buckle beneath me and I grab his arm for balance.
"Aw, someone feeling nervous now?"
"That could be one word for it." I say moving my head back more to look at his face and lick my lips. He brings the blade to my cheek, still holding me by the throat, and makes a quick slice down my face. I wince and push against him, digging my nails into the arm I'm gripping. He takes in a sharp breath and squeezes the sides of my neck in response. I look at him in defeat just waiting for whatever comes next, but he throws a sympathetic gaze at my pathetic stature and wipes the blood from my face with his knuckle.
"Do you understand?" He asks stroking my jaw with his thumb.
"Yes.." I think for a second,"..wait."
"What?"
"What do I call you? You've never given me a name."
He looks at me inquisitively, like he forgot he needed to.
"Call me Anti."