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by Leah Holt


  “You're lying!” I screamed, throwing my arms in the air. “I saw that same car before I saw you. It slowed down, it watched me as I walked, minding my own business! Don't try to tell me they weren't following me!”

  “Those men weren't looking for you.”

  Then who were they after? I was tempted to ask, but I didn't. The answer wouldn't help me, it couldn't get me out of this place.

  “How can I believe you? How can I even trust a word you say?”

  “You can't, but you don't really have a choice now, do you?” I felt his fingers run up my spine, gently plucking at the ends of my hair. “Get some rest, we have a lot of work to do if I'm going to get you where I need you to be, we only have so much time.”

  Pulling my arms into my lap, I rubbed the raw skin. “I don't understand.”

  Machi stood up, taking heavy steps back towards the door. “You will, trust me, you will.” The door shut and I heard the metal clank of a lock, followed by another, then another.

  And as I sat in the silence, I left the blindfold on. I was afraid to see what was being shoved down my throat, taking it off would mean bringing this nightmare into reality.

  Maybe the darkness was saving me?

  Maybe not seeing could keep me whole?

  I didn't have any answers, but I knew one thing. . .

  This was just the beginning.

  Chapter Four

  Imperial

  Darkness, that was all I had.

  I wasn't ready to pull the blindfold off, to allow my eyes to see what was around me. Laying on my back, I rested my hands on my stomach and just sat in a daze.

  How can this be real? How could a place like this exist in a world that had laws, rules, boundaries that you just don't cross?

  The silence in my head was eating me alive. It was taunting me with pictures of my home, my friends, of everything that seemed so far behind me.

  I wasn't sure if I was ever going to see any of it again.

  The locks on the door clicked open, metal on metal pierced my eardrums. Slipping my arms around my rib cage, I hugged myself. But I didn't move, I stayed still, pretending I was asleep.

  Heavy feet echoed over the hard floor, heel after heel clicking closer to my bed. Was it the same man from the night before?

  Does it really matter?

  The heat off his body hovered over me, casting a weighted shadow onto my chest. There was no touch, no force, nothing. It was just a man standing over me, and that was enough to turn my skin cold.

  Shivering, I twisted my head to the side, away from the presence holding me still. Swallowing hard, I dug my nails into the skin on my ribs just to keep myself from screaming.

  My throat gurgled with white noise, ready to thrash and tear whoever was there apart. But I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of knowing I was breaking down.

  They deserved nothing.

  Fingers swiped over my cheek, brushing across my chin and circling back up over my ear. “You're still wearing that? What's wrong, afraid the boogie man will find you?” Chuckling, his hand worked over my shoulder, softly touching my neck.

  Sucking in a hot gulp of air, I forced the lump in my throat down into my stomach.

  It is him, it's Machi.

  The pads of his fingers painted my forehead and walked over the fabric binding my sight. “This isn't going to help you, you know that, right?”

  I didn't answer.

  “You want it to, but it won't.” Tapping my eyeballs gently with two fingers, he hummed a beat. “I never was much of a singer. What about you? You sing at all?”

  You're getting nothing from me. Nothing!

  His body pressed down, grazing the outside of my arm as he crouched beside me. “What? Suddenly you don't talk? You had a lot to say last night, what changed?”

  Everything changed, Asshole.

  Pursing my lips, my breathing slowed down. That man, that man was not going to stand next to me and pretend like we could have any type of conversation.

  What the hell was he trying to do?

  Was this a ploy, a way to befriend his captive and ease me into what was coming next?

  It wasn't going to work.

  “Okay then, you don't have to talk, I will.” Placing something at the foot of the bed, Machi stroked my hair. “On the bed, right beside your left leg, there's a plate. It has a sandwich on it, eat it.”

  Everything inside me was screaming at him to just let me go, to send me on my way, blindfolded as I was. And I would, I would leave without question. He wouldn't see me again, I wouldn't know where he had taken me. I would forget his name if he asked me to.

  He brought food. A sandwich. . . I knew what that meant; I wasn't going anywhere.

  Pulling his hand away, he tugged at the sheet underneath me, smoothing it out. “Do you understand why I can't?”

  You can't? You can't what?

  “Why I can't let you go?”

  How. . . How did he know what I was thinking?

  Sighing, Machi's hands swept up and down over the sheet, plucking at the crinkles and peaks and pressing them down. “You might not believe me—fuck, I know you won't. But you're safer here with me than you'll ever realize.”

  A weak snort escaped my lips as I laughed in disgust. Safe? What kind of bullshit line was that?

  Safe was not here, safe was not with him.

  “Say it, go on.”

  Fuck you.

  “Fine,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands over his legs. The rough fabric of his pants whirred and zipped against his skin, buzzing in my ear. “But without me, you'd be dead right now. Hope that comforts you.”

  His shoes came down hard as he stormed away, slamming the door behind him. The walls rattled, shaking and vibrating my bones. Each lock slid back into place, sealing me inside.

  Stretching my leg out, I touched the cold rim of ceramic with my toe. Even if I was hungry—which I wasn't—I wouldn't put one thing in my mouth that Machi tried to give me.

  If he could kill a man he obviously knew, he could kill a girl he didn't know without a glimpse of remorse.

  Sitting up, I listened hard to make sure I was still alone, anticipating his voice to rain down on me any second. You're alone, he's gone. Reaching out, I ran my fingertips over the bread. Crumbs stuck to my damp skin, soaking up the sweat that had formed.

  Rubbing my fingers together, I dusted them off, picking up the plate and resting it on the floor. I'd rather starve to death than give him the pleasure of knowing I had accepted his gift of food.

  Laying back down, I positioned my arms behind my head and allowed my tired body to fall into unconsciousness. I could refuse food, I could refuse to talk and walk and drink. . .

  But sleep, that was one thing I couldn't shut down.

  * * *

  “Wake up.” A heavy hand gripped my shoulder, rocking me back and forth. “You didn't eat, you need to eat. Let's go, get up.”

  Rolling onto my side, I curled up into a ball. Machi was back, he was standing at my side again, freely touching me as if I had given him permission.

  I don't want anything from you! Go to hell!

  “Voice still gone, huh?” Laughing, the weight of the mattress shifted as he sat down beside me. “You taking that thing off any time soon?”

  Go away! Just leave me alone!

  Caressing my back, he untwisted the strap of my bra, and tucked the small tag back under the clasps. “I brought you another plate, it's not much, half a muffin and a banana. But it's food, you should eat it.”

  Tucking my body up, I tried to hide inside the blackness. When was he going to get the point? How long would he try to keep up this act before he finally lost control?

  Everyone had a fuse, I just wasn't sure how long his was.

  Clapping his hands, he said, “You can stay silent all you want, but eventually that thing needs to come off, and you need to eat. When did you eat last, can you remember? Was it before—” Cutting himself off, he cleared his throat.
“Either way, you haven't had anything in two days that I know of.”

  It's only been two days?

  It was hard to grasp the idea of time. Two days felt like and eternity. Hours, minutes, seconds, I couldn't actually tell as I laid there which ones had come and gone.

  Had I slept for five hours or had I been awake the whole time? There was no way for me to know. The same nightmare that played in my dreams was there when my eyes were open. Nothing had changed, except the person living it.

  My muscles were tired, my bones were aching and heavy. I didn't feel hungry or thirsty or even have the urge to go to the bathroom. It was like my entire body had gone into hibernation and would only wake up when spring flowers and bumblebees bloomed and buzzed around me.

  Machi leaned over my shoulder, his face inches from mine, sending his creamy musk rolling down over my cheek and into my nose. I stopped breathing, refusing to allow one ounce of him to fester inside me.

  “This little thing you're doing, you're rebellion or defiance or whatever the fuck you want to call it—it's not going to last. One way or another, that blindfold will come off, either by you or by me.” Kissing my cheek, the mattress rocked as he stood up. “Now eat.”

  Rolling my shoulders, I covered my ears with my arms. It was a measure of control, a brief protest against his orders. Covering my ears showed him that it didn't matter what he said or what he wanted.

  I might not have control over where I was, but I had control over my own body. If he wasn't ready to kill me, if he couldn't decide when or how he would do it. . .

  Then I controlled my death too.

  I wanted to strip him of what he thought he owned. Because unless he was going to force feed me or stick a needle in my arm to purge my veins with fluids. . .

  I was in charge of what I did or didn't do.

  Thick fingers wrapped my arms, yanking them away from my ears. His lips hovered over the shell of my ear, breathing heavy and hard. “You can fight me all you want, you can starve yourself if you think that's better than this. But if you ever want to see the sun rise again or the fucking moon when it's full, I suggest you smarten up and stop fucking around.”

  Gritting my teeth, I snarled up at him.

  “Come on, let me hear it, call me a dickhead, call me a fucking prick, I don't really give a shit. But I will tell you one thing, I didn't bring you here for you to die.” Releasing his grip, he stepped back, grunting like a mad dog. “So if that's what you want, a slow agonizing death, it's on you.”

  Tears began to roll freely, slipping off my lids and seeping into the cloth. I didn't want that, I didn't want any of this. There was a level of control I wanted to keep, but death, was I really ready for that?

  “How can you put my death on me when you're the one who did this?”

  “Good, that got your attention.” Taking a step in, his shadow thickened the blackness surrounding me. “I'm not going to apologize for taking you, I'm not going to apologize for you refusing to eat or drink. I haven't killed you.”

  “But that's the plan isn't it? Kill me when the time is right?”

  “The time was right the second I had you in my hands. If it didn't come then, then what makes you think it's ever coming at all?”

  Sniffling, I wiped away the tears that had escaped from under the blindfold. “I don't want to die.”

  “Then don't.” Placing the plate by my head, Machi whispered. “But I can't save you if you don't try to save yourself.”

  His words cut through me, boring a hole into my chest and climbing inside.

  Save me? Why would he save me?

  “Why would you say that?” I asked, resting a hand on the plate and sitting up. “Why would you taunt me with idea that you're going to save me? That's not fair, it's wrong to dangle something like that in front of my face when you have no plans on ever letting me go!”

  Laughing, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch startled me, it made me jerk nervously, sending a tremble through my muscles.

  “I haven't told you my plans yet. So how do you know what's fair or not?”

  Squeezing the rim of the plate, I blindly touched the food. “I hate you.”

  Placing his finger on my bottom lip, he dragged it down hard, letting my lip bounce back into place. “You keep speaking those sweet words to me, little girl.”

  His heels clicked against the wood like the tip of a knife against bone. The door opened and shut, locks secured, and he was gone.

  Curling my lip, I screamed, “Fuck you!” Throwing the plate, it shattered into pieces, falling to the ground with sharp pings.

  This place was going to kill me. This world was going to molest my fears until I broke and there was nothing left.

  I had to get out.

  I had to fight.

  Chapter Five

  Imperial

  “Take it off.” Machi's voice rained down on me as I laid in the bed, lost and saddened by everything I set in motion.

  He was right when he said I put myself in this position. I let my curiosity consume me, I let it walk me straight into his hands. It didn't make any of it right or deserved, but it was still the truth.

  If I had just kept walking, I wouldn't be here. I would be home, waking up in my apartment with my cat Velcro curled around my face. I'd be having a cup of coffee with Cassie and chatting about what plans we had for the week.

  I'd still be. . . Me.

  Machi said his men hadn't been looking for me, if he was telling the truth, then this was all just a horrible game of coincidence.

  But they did take the time to look at you.

  Who were they after?

  It doesn't matter. . . He found you instead.

  “I don't want to.” Rolling to my side, I hugged my knees. “I like not being able to see anything.”

  The blackness had started to feel like more of a friend than an enemy. It kept my mind working, it kept my senses peaked and the horrors around me in shadows. I was starting to embrace the idea of not being able to see what was going on around me.

  If he was going to kill me, I wouldn't see it coming. I wouldn't have to endure those last few moments of sadness and pain. I wouldn't have the time to process what was about to happen or have the need to pray for something that was inevitable.

  Death may or may not come, but I didn't have to see it when it spread its wings and devoured me whole.

  “It's been days now, if you don't take it off, I will.”

  “Don't you dare try and touch me.” My body crunched up tighter as I pressed my face into the space between my knees.

  “I'm taking it off.” I felt his fingertips press against the blindfold, attempting to curl under the edge.

  “No!” I screamed, slapping his hand away. “Do not touch me.”

  “Take. It. Off.” Machi's voice drifted between high and low tones, harboring a hint of annoyance.

  Pressing my hands to the side of my head, I held the cloth in place. “No.”

  “Damn it, I said take it off!” The weight of his hands fell over my arms, trying to yank them away. “Just fucking take it off!”

  “Fuck. You.” Clawing at the blindfold, I tried to pierce my nails into the material, keeping it firmly against my eyes.

  Machi climbed up onto the mattress, straddling my waist. Releasing one hand, I swung it through the air, trying to hit him. I connected with something; his chest, his shoulder, his stomach, I wasn't sure. But it was rock hard, crunching my fingers into my palm and cracking my knuckles with an audible pop.

  “How'd that feel?” he asked, pressing down onto my ribs and catching my wrist. Pushing my arm up, he pinned it high above my head.

  “Fuck you!” Snarling, I grunted in anger, desperately trying to shove him off of me. But he was too heavy, crushing my chest down and making it hard to breathe. Taking in labored gulps of air, I refused to give up.

  “Get off me!” Screaming, I rocked my hips, wildly bucking my body.

  The two of us wrestled,
his hands snatched and tore at my face, making every effort to grab the blindfold. My hands dug into my hair, holding it in place as I moved my head so he couldn't get a good grip.

  “You're taking that fucking thing off.” I thought I heard him laugh as he spoke. It was a quiet giggle that didn't sound angry or agitated. His voice had lightened, turning from heated to playful.

  What the hell are you doing?

  Is this really where you should be putting all your effort? Trying to keep the dark?

  I was fighting a battle I couldn't win. Machi wasn't giving up, and from the sound in his voice, he was enjoying our little scuffle. What good was a protest if the enemy only saw it as a game?

  Let him have it, this isn't your fight. . . Living is.

  “Fine,” I groaned, the single word long and drawn out. Freeing the tension in my muscles, I let my body fall limp. “Do it then, but I'm not. I don't want to see you, I don't want to see where I am, I don't want to see anything.”

  The tips of his fingers curled under the thin edge of the blindfold, peeling it away. “You can't live in darkness. I need you to learn, I need you to watch and listen and pay close attention,” he said with heavy breaths still labored from our struggle.

  I kept my eyes closed, refusing to look at him. “No, you get nothing.”

  Machi climbed off my waist and sat beside me. “I told you that this was going to keep you alive. If you don't do what I tell you to, then I can't make you any promises.”

  “Oh, now we're throwing out promises?” Stuffing my head into the mattress, I kept my face buried. “Like I'd believe your promises anyway, your word means shit to me.”

  “Look at me.” Machi tugged on my shoulders, rolling me towards him. But I kept my eyes sealed shut. “Look. At. Me.” His voice grew strained, like he was pleading rather than giving me an order.

  “Why?”

  “You need to see in order to understand. I can't help you if you won't help yourself.” His fingers brushed the hair off my face, tender and light. “The more you defy me, the harder it's going to be on you. I don't want to punish you, that's not why you're here.”

  How can you ever get out if you don't see?

 

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