What is going to happen in the morning?
Is it even night now?
I’m losing my sense of time.
My dreams are filled with the masked man. Slicing, dicing, and feasting on my flesh.Fucking me until I lay in a pool of blood and broken bones. No matter what, I can’t escape him.
The door slamming open wakes me up with a jolt. A yelp rips from me as I scramble to sit up. Fuckface is standing in the doorway with his stupid mask. The cross stitch grin mocking me, today there is 1 tally mark on his arch. The lone hanging thread in the left corner draws my attention.
“Morning Red. Game time.” His voice is muffled, but I hear his amusement. It seems like he’sback to the personality that bought me at the whorehouse.
“That’s not my name, fuckface!” I say with hatred. “My name’s…”
I cut myself off when he pulls out a gun. I’ve never seen one this close before. A cold sweat breaks out over me as I lock eyes with the weapon.
“Win the game and you get breakfast. Lose and…” he pauses, his sinister gaze stares into mysoul. “You won’t like what happens if you lose. But I will.”
He lifts the gun up and gives it a little wave. I glare daggers at him, a slew of curses forming on my tongue, but I’m not stupid enough to insult the dude holding a gun. I watch in silence as he takes the gun apart. Tossing the pieces to the dirt.
I’m so confused as I watch the metal hit the dirt. He pulls out a single bullet and throws it further than the other parts. It rolls towards the side of the room that I was hosed down.
“A ticket out. Put it together and you win.” Without another word, he turns and leaves. Before the door fully closes, I hear his sing-song voice. “Time starts now.” The door clicks as it locks.
I sit there for a second before jumping up. “Hey, fuckface! I don’t know about guns. What’s the time limit?” I shout, standing over the disassembled gun.
My gaze snaps towards the camera in the corner, and I know the bastard is watching. “That’s not fair. You could fucking show me first. You limp dick motherfucker.” I scream at the lens, but the only answer I get is a voice filling my cell.
“Clock’s ticking.”
That snaps me out of my tantrum. If this is a game, then I’ll play to win. I fall to my knees, scrambling to collect all the pieces. The dirt gets under my nails. The 8 acrylics look out of place here. He left a bullet, and if I can get this together, then I’ll shoot his knee out when he gets back.
I could never kill a man. No matter how much I want to kill this asshole, I can’t. Killing is wrong and goes against my morals. My hands fumble with the pieces, and attempt to put it together like some fucked up jigsaw puzzle.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I get the small pin to click in place. Next, I grab the spring; that makes the most sense.
I can do this.
Small ones first and work your way up.
As I’m trying to jam it in place, my hands shake. Finally, and it slips in, a smile spreads across my face.
Yes!
God, I might actually do this.
I don’t know how much time’s left; I’ve been struggling for probably 10 minutes. I grab the barrel, hoping this is the next part, as the slider piece looks like it would go last. My hands aretrembling, and I drop the metal. In my hurry to grab it, I move too quickly and bump it.
It rolls under the cot, my heart lurches in my throat as I dive in the dirt. Reaching under and searching for it, my hand connects and I rip it out.
I take a deep breath, and calm myself down before trying again. It pops into place. I’m practically jumping out of my skin as I reach for the last piece, mentally cheering myself on, when the door bursts open.
“Times up. Put it down and back away,” his growled voice demands. It startles me, making my head snap up.
“You motherfucking asshole! I almost had it. You’re a dickwad that was watching and knew I was close. You son of—” My rant cuts off as he pulls out a small double-sided knife from his belt. In one fast flick of his wrist, the knife flies towards me.
I scream, dropping the unfinished gun as it zips by my head. It grazes my ear, but I barely feel the sharp sting as fear racks my body. It lodges in the wooden wall behind me.
“That was a fucking warning. I won’t miss my next throw, and I’ll aim right for your eye. Now get your ass on the fucking bed and shut youryap.” He yells at me, my breath catching in my chest.
