Chapter Ten: Phobia

Actions have consequences.

That was one of the many phrases we people taught as children, phrases engraved into their heads in attempts to righten their wrongs; whether it be behavioural, mental or physical. They were taught to take responsibility and learn the cost of disobedience, to understand that certain things had negative reciprocations.

Cassidy had undergone the same teachings and chastises from her mother, the lingering gazes and crinkling smiles as Edith schooled her into a proper child remaining in her head. Yet that didn't seem to be enough for someone else, someone far crueller, who had taken it upon themselves to be her new teacher.

As if kidnapping her wasn't enough, he decided to torment Cassidy by locking her up in an old cellar with crates and cobwebs her only companions. That and the occasional fleeting rat.

Each day he would come in asking variations of the same question, and each day her answer remained the same. No one. Two words, two simple, universal words, were enough for him to pelt a rain of pain onto her.

In the start, he had been slightly lenient, playful even. He was amused by her stubborn personality, choosing to keep the punishments bearable, things like a kick to the stomach, threats to kill more family members, and his personal favourite, yanking out strands of her long, wavy hair.

But one day his patience had run out, and that was when she truly grew to fear her time in captivity.

"Who do you have to follow? Whose rules do you have to obey?"

"No one."

Unlike other times, he didn't disapprovingly coo or smirk, he simply remained silent, running his hand through his wavy brown locks and fidgetting with the ends of his black bandana.

Then he laughed.

It wasn't loud or crazy like a villain's cackle, it was surprisingly soft, and if they had been in different circumstances Cassidy would have found it contagious. But she was too scared by his sudden amusement to dwell on that thought.

He had always been predictive and easy to read, allowing Cassidy to sense what he felt and decipher what words would trigger him.

Cassidy took pride in being able to know what to anticipate as if she had something over her kidnapper and could use it against him. Those thoughts seemed to be far from the truth, his current reaction being something she had never anticipated.

"Tell me, Cassidy, do you have any phobias?"

The question surprised her, making the brunette skater pause long enough for him to yank onto her hair and repeat the question.

"No."

That was a lie. Cassidy did possess mild arachnophobia but her stubborn self refused to allow him access to her vulnerabilities. He frowned at her answer before once again smirking.

"Well then, I shall give you one."

It was then that she realized, without a shadow of doubt, that she was completely screwed. For his smirk turned into a cynical one as he let go of her hair and pulled out a lighter from his back pocket.

"Did you know being burned alive is the worst pain a human can bear?"

The question made Cassidy's heart race a mile a minute as she considered how gone the boy before her was and if he truly would go to such extents simply because of a bruise to his ego.

"Oh, don't fret I'm not crazy enough to set you on fire. I'm just going to paint with its deadly flames, and you're my lucky canvas."

Cassidy's feet had bolted for the iron door before he finished his cynical words. It didn't cross her mind that it was practically impossible for him to leave the door open, at least not until he once again yanked onto her hair, dragging her back to the centre of the small room.

"Do you want this to be worse than it has to be? Because I can think of a shit ton of stuff I haven't tried yet."

That threat made her body stiffen, her mind immediately flying to things like rape and mutilation.

It had surprised Cassidy how he hadn't attempted to harass her the second she was captive, but she was grateful for that decision and thanked God for the slight relief. Regardless of the situation, the blue-eyed brunette wouldn't let him engage in such things, not now, not ever.

Thus her options were clear: she could either face his little fire experiment or face that as well as god knows what else.

He seemed to notice her muscles relax from their flight or fight state, his right eye crinkling at its corners to indicate he was yet again smirking.

Heavy thuds echoed through the room as he approached her cowering form, each tap of his boots making her heartbeat stutter. When he finally stood in front of her, his hand reached out to the shelf near her head, retrieving plastic zip ties.

Cassidy hadn't understood their purpose until he clenched her right wrist, bringing it up to the shelf's rods and restraining her hand to the bar.

"We can't have you running away, now can we?"

His right hand reached out towards her with the lighter, his long digits aiming for the crook of her elbow.

When he lit the orange lighter Cassidy could barely conceal her screech of pain but controlled herself enough to let out nothing more than a whimper. This seemed to trigger something inside him as he pushed the flame closer to her arm, focusing on a blue vein.

The scream that followed was raw and short, cut off by yet another whimper as Cassidy began mentally praying for it to stop. His movements ceased, and she emitted a sigh of relief, thinking he was done.

Oh, how wrong she had been to foolishly presume such a thing.

He directed the flame to another part of her arm, this time choosing a spot closer to her wrist and immediately igniting the lighter, his unprecedented actions electing a scream louder than its predecessor.

He let the flames lick and burn her lower arm for a few seconds longer before moving onto a different spot, this time not bothering to switch off the instrument.

The fire left a hot trail as they swept past the rest of her arm and rested a little above her collarbone, drawing closer as if they sought out her second, even third, layer of skin. This time Cassidy restrained herself, going as far as to bite down onto the side of her cheek and draw blood.

Anything to preserve her diminishing dignity.

The male before her didn't take too kindly to being denied her new chorus of screams, and pushed the flame closer to her skin, causing a potential third-degree burn the size of a penny. This drew forth a screech so powerful he pulled back the lighter, not in pity, but surprise.

Regardless of the set back her kidnapper continued with his expeditions, moving towards her left arm and choosing to leave a weak but long burn compared to the small, precise, and severe burns adorning her other limb.

Cassidy had grown slightly used to the harsh sting and urge to claw out her skin, almost being able to conceal any sound that left her lips. However, that was until he decided to set her hair on fire.

At first, she didn't realize what was going on until Cassidy's ocean blue eyes focused on a stray strand of her hair resting right beside the spot he decided to burn next. The teen hoped the fire wouldn't catch, but in the end, a stray flame danced above her hair, continuing up the string until it reached her left elbow.

Her horrified yells surprised him, making her kidnapper pause as his hickory eyes flicked over her form in an attempt to decipher what was going on.

As his gaze settled onto her hair he broke away from her and reached for a bottle of water she hadn't noticed, pouring it onto Cassidy's head to kill the fire.

The flames were quickly doused in the liquid, causing them to die down, but she expected him to at least check for any start injuries. He chose to instead laugh! The audacity!

Cassidy was practically fuming as she looked at his doubled over form, his chuckles echoing around the room. Her luscious locks that nearly reached her waist were now touching the bottom of her shoulder blades, making her subconsciously pout in annoyance.

That seemed to draw his attention as he straightened up and cocked his head at her, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Don't think I've let you off because of a little 'bad hair day,' we're continuing your punishment."

She stilled, unsure if she could even take more burns. In an attempt to express her annoyance Cassidy straightened up and sarcastically replied as she sent him an icy glare.

"What, are you going to burn a hole through me next?"

The brunette male didn't seem to appreciate her sarcasm and flicked the lighter on again, all traces of his humour gone.

"If you continue talking like that, I might consider it."

He walked towards her like a cat examining its prey, settling so close to her if she wished Cassidy could rip off his pathetic cotton bandana.

"However, if you answer correctly I'll stop."

Her head hung defeatedly. Cassidy knew what he was playing at, and refused to submit to her father's murderer. Some people might have been perplexed as to why she didn't just give him what he wanted, just lie through her teeth and provide him with his answer.

But it was simple, he killed her father and Dory, the two beings she was closest to, thus she would endure everything he threw at her before giving in.

Her decision was clear as Cassidy raised her head and glared at him venomously, prompting him to return the glare and continue.

The next target was her left leg.

He didn't bother focusing on one part and just ran the lighter over her calf until he was certain the flames burned through at least a bit of her jeans, doing the same to her right leg. But that was bearable, and the worst of it was yet to come.

The moment he withdrew a pocket knife with a maniacal glint in his hickory eyes, Cassidy was frightened beyond measure. She was unsure of his intentions and hoped to God that her assailant wasn't thinking of what she thought.

However, her guess was unfortunately right as he pulled the knife closer to the lighter's flame, allowing the orange fire to dance over the blade until he was satisfied. Cassidy tried to not notice it, but the blade was clearly orange by the time he set aside his lighter.

"Are you sure about your answer?"

A warning, one that she refused to heed.

"Positive."

What followed next was pain beyond measure, so much so her throat had gone dry in seconds.

Cassidy's screams tore through the room, the sound so loud for a second the brunette skater imagined passer-bys hearing her and coming to her rescue. But there was no hero and no salvation, no one stopped him as her kidnapper pressed the blade's tip onto her stomach, burning through her t-shirt and skin like they were paper.

Cassidy's didn't remember much after that, her memory always coming up short after the burn across her side-stomach.

The only clear memory was of the pungent smell of burning skin and burnt hair. He had stopped when Cassidy's legs gave out beneath her, her head lolling to the side as her blue eyes landed on the old fashioned clock placed on the mouldy wall.

Right before she passed out, Cassidy concluded that the knife's torture barely lasted for a minute.

When she awoke the next morning her stomach had been wrapped up with gauze, a herbal scent drifting to her nose indicating he had treated the wound with care. However, he hadn't bothered tending to the other burns, making the message clear; he would only intervene with her healing process if the injury was life-threatening.

If she could go back and do something differently, Cassidy would've definitely chosen spiders. It would have only worsened her phobia, not change it. Instead, she had steered clear of campfires, lighters and other sources of fire, abandoning any friend or foe with the terrible tendency to smoke.

One thing had been evident when Cassidy crawled onto her hands and knees, a lighter placed right in front of her line of vision.

Her kidnapper had succeeded in giving her a new phobia.