A Necessary Evil(6)

The man was lying back against the headboard of the bed, quietly reading a book. He’d been reading for a while. Though Mollie had no sense of time down in this dungeon he kept calling The Vault, she was pretty sure many hours had passed since he’d forced her down the steps into the darkness.

When they’d arrived, he’d immediately flicked on the lights, shoved the gun into her back, and forced her into the furthest corner. Her heart raced, and her body trembled as he forced her down to the ground. Terrifying images of what he might do to her flashed before her eyes like strikes of violent lightning. He’d stuffed the gun into the waistline of his pants behind him, knelt beside her, and pulled her legs out in front of her. Then he’d grabbed two shackles, which were attached to a long, thick, metal chain, and secured them around her ankles. Mollie watched him as tears, mascara, and blood from a cut above her eye streamed down her dirty face, over her neck, and between her breasts. His demeanor was eerily calm, and his face was cold and devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

She’d watched him use a key to secure the locks on the shackles. Everything happened so fast, she’d not gotten a very good look at him until then. His blond hair fell to his chin and was tucked behind his ears—a style she normally found attractive on a man. He dressed in all black, and Mollie had caught a whiff of some sort of cologne when he’d first come up behind her. What kind of kidnapper wears cologne? He moved silently and robotically, making him seem almost inhuman.

“Why are you doing this?” she’d said in a hoarse whisper. Her throat was scratchy and dry from screaming so much, and it felt like she’d swallowed razor blades.

“Shut up, Mollie.” When he’d secured her to the chain, he’d stood and stared down at her with an unnerving smile. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.”

Imagined? What the hell does that mean? She opened her mouth to ask him, but before she could get a word out, he drew his hand back and said, “Don’t speak unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”

Mollie had nodded and wiped her face with her sleeve. For the first time in her life, she’d actually thought she might pee on herself out of sheer fright.

“Here,” he’d said as he pulled a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket and tossed it to her. “Clean yourself up. I want to see that lovely face nice and clean.”

Mollie had done as he’d commanded and wiped her face. When she was done, she’d handed it back to him without saying a word.

“That’s my girl. Now, I’m going to lie down for a bit. It’s been an exciting night, don’t you think? You should probably try to get some sleep too.”

He’d turned around and walked toward the bed. Mollie wanted to ask for a blanket, but was terrified to make a sound without his permission. So instead, she’d curled up into a ball and wrapped her arms around her legs. She’d watched as the man kicked off his boots and lay back on the bed, on top of the covers. He must have caught her staring, because he’d sat up and propped himself on one elbow.

“I can see that you’re scared, so I’ll tell you a little secret. I’m not going to kill you. Not for a while, anyway. I have big plans for you, Mollie. But for now, I need to rest. You should do the same.”

Within a few minutes, he was snoring lightly. Mollie had sat there for God only knew how long and dreamed of ways to escape from this lunatic, until finally he’d woken up, brought her a small cup of water, grabbed a book off the shelf, and returned to the bed to read.

Now he seemed engrossed in whatever he was reading, and Mollie was shivering in the corner, trying with all her might not to break down and cry. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Plus, it would do her no good. He’d made that perfectly clear. But she couldn’t just give up and accept her fate. She was made of tougher stuff than that. And she was a writer. She had a creative mind, and surely she could use her talent to come up with a way to escape. But first, she had to try to get him to let his guard down. She remembered seeing a Dateline NBC story about a girl who’d been abducted. This girl had talked to her kidnapper calmly but relentlessly and had finally gotten him to see her as a human being, not some nameless, disposable victim, and he’d released her. But what could she say?

She studied the man as he continued reading his book. Something about him was different than any person she’d ever encountered before. When he stared at her, it was like there was nothing at all behind his eyes. No compassion, no remorse, no guilt. He truly did not look human. His chin-length hair was smooth and tucked behind his ears, and his nails were neatly trimmed. The features of his face were angular and symmetrical, and had he not been a monster who’d kidnapped her, chained her to a wall, and held her captive in a dungeon, she might even have said he was attractive. Her overly-exhausted and terrified mind wondered briefly if he was a vampire, but she was still alert and sane enough to remind herself there was no such thing. He was a normal human being, so there had to be a way to get through to him.

It was clear he already knew her name, which meant she wasn’t chosen at random. This realization sent another chill up her spine, and she knew that if he had chosen her specifically, there must be a reason. She had to find out what that reason was. Mollie gulped back her fear and tucked her feet underneath her, careful not to rattle the chains.

“What are you reading?” she asked in a near whisper.