Page 11 of My Captive's Heart
Rubbing at my eyes, I look around the room to scan my surroundings. I’m perplexed by the wholesome and feminine decor. The peach—my favorite color—painted walls. A walk-in closet and an en suite bathroom.
Am I tripping?
Hallucinating it?
What kind of psycho abductor has kidnapped me?
Is he trying to entice me to stay? Create an illusion I’m on a vacation so I’ll stick around?
“A mind game, Molly,” I huff. “He’s fucking with my head.”
Peering down at myself, I notice he’s put me in the hoodie he was wearing earlier. It dwarfs my frame and reaches to myknees. I inhale sharply, causing his earthy scent to flood my lungs. Shifting on the soft bedding, an ache spreads through my body, reminding me I had a stranger inside me.
A strangerIgave myself to willingly.
A strangerIlet fuck me hard.
A strangerIallowed to dominate me.
A stranger who mademyfantasy reality and turned it into a cosmic joke.
“No. No. No,” I chant in a small, terrified voice. “I need to get out of here. This isn’t happening.”
My captor cannot be the best sex I’ve ever had.
I’m repulsed at myself for stupidly following this man outside to the cornfield. I sought him out like a horny lunatic.
God! He must’ve been laughing behind the mask at how easy a victim I was. I served myself to him on a silver fucking platter.
“All your fault, Molly,” I utter to myself.
How did I not realize it wasn’t Matt?
The little signs were there. But he was clever enough to distract me with pleasure.
I don’t allow panic to set in yet. Climbing out of the four-poster bed, I tiptoe out into the hall barefoot. It works in my favor as my feet don’t make a sound.
I look to my left and right, finding the floor empty. I seem to be in a basement, seeing a wine cellar and a second door opposite the bedroom I exited.
Keeping a hand pressed to my mouth to avoid making a noise, I search for the staircase that’ll take me up and, hopefully, out of the front door.
This isn’t how I die.
Hell no.
After what feels like forever, the clock in my head ticking like a time bomb, the narrow staircase comes into view.
My insides burst with hope.
Walking faster, I grab the banister and step onto the first rung.
The electricity goes out.
I squeak behind my palm. My stomach bottoms out as pitch-blackness blinds me. Crippling anxiety roars to life, deciding to join the pity party of emotions I’m feeling.
Thud.
Thud.
