Chapter 41st

Despite the pain it inflicted, hope had a way of persevering. Of scratching the back of your mind and tricking its way back in even as you actively pushed it away. It injected in me wondrous ideas of miracles, of magic last-minute saves, of sheer willpower conquering brute strength. Could it? Could I, against Chris? I looked down at my own two hands, my bruised wrists where his fingers had so effortlessly marked me… But I shouldn't blame it all on hope's wistful dreams: perhaps willpower would have been enough to save me, if I hadn't so carefully picked my villain, and then created the perfect circumstances to trap me in with him! Whatever the case, I didn't have it in me… I couldn't fight, I wasn't strong enough.

But perhaps the cop was?

Such was the hope that crawled in silently without my allowing it, only to die loudly and give me yet another shot of crude adrenaline as it burst in the air: Chris kicked open the door, he fumbled down the stairs with a limp police officer swung across his shoulder.

My heart skipped a beat, and I considered averting my gaze with the fear I might be looking at a corpse… And as if he was indeed one, Chris dropped him on the ground – the thud caused by the impact disturbing me back into looking.

"I figure you might be feeling lonely down here…" Chris found me cowering, crouching down behind a wooden beam, and he flashed me a crooked smile when my eyes, rushing from the body to its bringer and back again, accidentally met his. "So I brought you some company."

Having finished his tasteless teasing, he pushed the cop to the side with his boot, simultaneously opening his way to me and checking the body for a throb of life.

"Don't worry…" he whispered, his eyes narrowing as they watched my despair "…He's just asleep, your friend! I haven't killed him…" His eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly with the fun of it "…not yet!"

I observed the collapsed cop anxiously. Chris did the same, of course a different expression decking his face. A sigh followed.

"Here he is, in all his glory: Your very own police officer. Your savior…" His smile widened with self-assured pride. "…Did you expect he would be joining us? Did you…plan that out in advance?" he pushed the body further to the side, revealing his hands tied behind his back with a silver gleam around the wrists.

"If you did… Well, then I'll say you're not being very fortunate in your choices lately. To rely on this guy… Pathetic, really!" Chris crouched down and proceeded to tap the man on the face repeatedly, until he came to.

I watched, horror-stricken, as the cop slowly opened his eyes, then looked around groggily, then recalled what had occurred to him and, terrified, began gasping and shuddering as realization hit home.

"W-what? Where am I? What is this??! H-help!" his voice peaked, until it became a desperate scream "HELP!"

Chris watched, bent on one knee to level our heights. He stifled a laugh and turned to look at me, as if we were friends enough that we'd share the mirth of an inside joke:

"See? Your choice of men continues to disappoint, doesn't it? This is the lowest you've ever been on luck, Abby." And he looked down at the cop as the cop sought his eyes "And you too, my friend!"

"Who… who are you? What's going on?!!"

I didn't dare answer him – I couldn't stand being the one to tell him!

"…but do tell him!" Chris laughed, as if reading my mind – the pain it inflicted me "tell him, Abby, that he has walked into the wrong den in the event of your killing, only to share a similar fate…"

"No…" the cop gasped, understanding.

"…but I have no interest in you, so I'll make this quick. Count your blessings: the kid would love to be in your place right now!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my fingers to my ears, squirming with terror as the cop shrieked the loudest cry for help his lungs could muster. When finally his voice exhausted, Chris's chuckle shook his broad, cavernous chest:

"Beginner's mistake…" he remarked amusedly "this place is as good as soundproof. Did you hear her screams? No… No one did. They won't hear you either!"

I saw his eyes widen, a haunting image to behold. It made me sick… and it made me ashamed.

"Here, you won't be needing this…" Chris shuffled the cop around, pulling free a gun – holster and all. "And you don't happen to have another one of these, do you?" he inquired playfully, pulling the cop's hands to the side – more than the shoulders could naturally bend on that position, wrenching a pain-filled scream from the young man, all to show me the gleaming silver bracelets that bound his hands together.

Amused by my fixed gaze on the handcuffs, Chris smiled, teasing my panic:

"I could use another pair for what I have in mind. If they weren't busy already… my, what fun we could have! But… oh well! I guess I'll have to make do with my own tools!"

Chris stood, a tranquil sigh leaving his chest.

"Anyway, as you can see, my darling little friend, our… looming encounter has once more been delayed by your hand-picked hero here." He turned towards me. "…and since you've wanted so bad to include him, I decided 'what the hell'. Let's give the little lady a show, huh?"

"I… I didn't…" I don't even know why I said it – what kind of defeat bound me to try and justify myself to him. I guess I just desperately wanted to clarify that I didn't mean for any of that to happen!

"Oh, that's okay, I'm not mad at you. This isn't as much an inconvenience…" and he grabbed me by the shirt, pulled me up from my knees, grabbed my wrists. I startled, but didn't quite react as he reached for the other, positioned them together and wrapped them with silver-tape. "…as it is a detour. I'll entertain your guest. When I'm done with him, I'll have plenty of time to deal with you."

Our eyes met, lingered – the veiled threat in his staring coldly into mine, which desperately sought anything I could plead to in there!

"Please don't… Please don't hurt him! I-it's all I ask!"

"Oh?" Chris frowned and paused to give me his chilling attention. I watched him anxiously, half-regretful "Don't hurt him? So you'd like me to let the pig keep his blood, huh?"

He pretended to consider, a full minute in which my spine grew colder.

"I wonder why!" he mumbled at last, and turned my way again, scaring me. Unsure if he was angry or amused, I winced when his hand reached for me – I even closed my eyes, and hardened my jaw… only to experience the lightness of his skin brushing against my cheek. I opened my eyes again, disturbed. Chris loomed over me. I stood under his shadow.

"Did you grow fond of the guy? Huh?"

I shuddered. The caressing went on, soft and light as his voice grew harsher:

"…do you appreciate the company? Or…"

My eyes watched desperately for his – trying to read my danger in there.

"…Or is it something else… something dirtier?" his voice grew smooth again, the tips of his finger pressing against my jaw "…do you want… some audience, perhaps?

Whatever reaction I offered, it made Chris chuckle – the expected effect.

"…You'd like that, wouldn't you? Someone to know all about it… all about what I'll do to you!"

I pulled my head from his hand, disturbed by the suggestion. Chris laughed heartily.

"Yes… That's not a bad idea at all… The best one you've had in a while." he took a step forward, his body closing in, surrounding mine. I retrieved in the same rhythm, until I backed myself up against the basement's pillar.

"I think I'll indulge you: I'll let him watch." deep into the basement as we'd stepped, shadows covered half of Chris's face – they became him. "It will make breaking you all the more enjoyable. It's your pride, you see: The shame that being overpowered brings you, even though you're so clearly at a disadvantage. I'm sure he expects no more of you – nothing but resigned defeat, and yet his presence here will make you fight me until you've got nothing left. You won't tire, you won't give in… not with someone there to see you surrender your last breath." His lips stretched wickedly sideways, relishing the anticipation. "Yes… it will be a long fight… but that will teach you!"

"And does that turn you on?" I scowled, hot breath leaving coarsely through my nostrils so that I couldn't help talking back "fighting a girl?!"

My attempt at offending only amused him further:

"Don't sell yourself short!" he scoffed a laugh.

Still looking me in the eye, teasing my anger, he pulled my bound hands up, wrenching another small fright from me – his small victories. He passed a rope between the forked ends of the beam, and he tied it around my bound hands, stretching me upwards uncomfortably.