Kidnapped by a Killer (Edited Version)

Chapter 3

I vaguely knew time was passing, but I didn't care to count how many days it had been. Maybe a week, maybe two. All I knew was that I hadn't left the room I had woke up in for a long time, and the man had paid me many visits in the previous days. He didn't talk to me as much as he had the first day. He tried to the first few days, but often I didn't even acknowledge him, or I said something nasty. This seemed to discourage him quite a bit.

I was the most discouraged though. Many times I had tried to find a way to open the door, but there was some sort of lock on the outside that I couldn't access from the inside. Having all but given up, I sat in the corner with my knees pulled to my chest. My head hurt from shouting so much since it was all I really did anymore. Stand around alone, scream until I was hoarse, wish I could leave this awful place. These things had become all I knew.

With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes. I didn't know what time it was, but I was starting to get tired again, so I assumed it was later in the day. As if on cue, I heard the door open and looked up as Cliff walked in with my usual lunch of a sandwich and water. It was the same thing he brought me every day.

"Hey," he said. He smiled awkwardly and set the food near my feet. I just looked away and pulled further into myself. He pushed it closer hopefully. "Come on, Zane. You have to eat. If you don't you'll get sick."

"Hm..." I muttered. "That would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

He frowned. "Don't say things like that," he said.

I refused to respond to that and he sighed. He was frustrated again. A dark part of me wished I could make him angry enough to get rid of me like he had my family. Maybe then this would be over... But as usual when I gave him attitude, he merely got up in a huff and left the room. I flinched when the door slammed closed.

*******

The male body on the morgue table lay motionless and cold. Though he didn't voice this, Sam was glad the man's eyes were closed. He didn't like seeing death's face so vividly. "A single stab wound to the chest..." he murmured. "Barely anything to go off of."

"The coroner said it was a serrated knife. The cut on this victim and the female were both clean and quick," James said. "He didn't spend a lot of time on them."

Sam didn't look at his partner as he picked up the file laying on the table. The case was a husband, a wife, and two sons; there were always two boys. Sam and James had been chasing this case for the past three years and no matter what they found, the killer would drop off the map right after his annual kill. However, this time was different. There was a break in the pattern. As always, the wife had been found right next to her husband and the younger son had been found in the older son's room, probably from trying to hide with his older sibling. However, the older boy hadn't been there this time. They had witnesses who stated the older son was home for summer vacation, but neither his body nor any trace of him being injured or killed was found anywhere in the house. It was like he just vanished.

"Is it possible the older son is responsible?" Sam asked.

"Doubtful," James replied. "If this is the same killer, he has never indicated any reason to go after his own family. My guess, Zane was taken instead of killed."

This wasn't an appealing theory, but it was the only one they had at the moment. From what they had learned from neighbors and family relations, Zane was a good kid who did well in school. He got along well with his family and made friends easily. However, there had never been a case of the killer taking someone hostage before.

"What do you propose we do?" James asked, breaking the silence.

Sam sighed and dropped the file back on the table. "I want this boy found," he said. "We need to know why he took Zane. As much as I hate to admit it, Zane may be our only chance at catching this guy for good."

*******

Despite my brain telling me not to, I eventually ate most of the food on the plate. I hated that I did, but I couldn't deny the twisting in my stomach from hunger. If the human body wasn't programed to fend for itself, I would have willingly starved to death days ago. Disturbingly, Cliff had been enthusiastic to see I had "enjoyed" my food.

"I was thinking we could get something special for dinner tonight. How 'bout it?" Cliff asked as he picked up the empty plate and set it on the desk some feet away. "I have some menus here to choose from."

He dropped them on the bed and sat down expectantly, as if waiting for me to just waltz over and happily pick out a four course meal with him. I didn't.

He refused to be discouraged this time and came to sit next to me on the floor, ignoring the way I scooted away from him. "I'll let you pick whatever you like," he said.

I gave the menus one sour look before turning away. "No thanks," I said shortly.

By the face he was making, I could tell his patience was growing thin. "Zane, really-"

"Don't call me by my name like you know me," I snapped.

He gripped my arm tight enough to make it hurt and glared at me. "I will not let you keep acting like this. You need to learn some respect," he said.

I gritted my teeth and glared right back. "Make me," I spat, having lost my fear for him ages ago.

Like the flipping of a switch, Cliff's demeanor darkened. With dizzying strength, Cliff hauled me to my feet and threw me face-down on the bed. I struggled to sit up, but he held me down firmly with a fist in my shirt. "I will." He growled in my ear. His voice made me shiver with fear.

I made muffled noises into the sheets and gasped as he yanked my pants down to my knees. Desperately trying to get away for fear of his intentions, I kicked my legs and managed to knick him in the shoulder before he held them down as well. Now completely immobilized, I squeezed my eyes closed. Then I cried out in pain as he brought his hand down with a thwack to my ass, startling me and eliciting a pain I hadn't been expecting.

He did it again and again, until I was a shaking mess of silent sobs. It hurt so bad, and I tried again and again without success to wriggle away. But Cliff was much larger than I, and there was no moving his weight from my back. I could only lie there and muffle my gasps in the sheets.

It wasn't until my fighting ceased and my body went slack that the man finally let up. For a minute or two, we both just stayed there, heaving from the effort. Then Cliff's hold relinquished and he moved away. Struggling to turn over, I shot him a teary glare. He held my gaze unwaveringly until I dropped my eyes.

Picking up the menus, Cliff left in a hurry. Once he was gone, I forced myself to my feet and gently pulled my sweatpants back up. My ass hurt like hell, so I chose to lay on my stomach, biting my sleeve to keep quiet. As I hugged my pillow to my face, I resisted the urge to cry into it like a child. He wouldn't break me, I vowed. He would never break me.

*******

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