Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
I didn't hear a lock engage, so I could only assume he was so sure about me not leaving, or that he’d find and catch me if I did, that he wasn't worried about keeping me in this prison with lock and key.
I stood there for a moment, numbness spreading through me because I was good and fucked. Fight or flight told me to make a run for it no matter what he threatened. But what if things got worse if I tried to leave, and he found me?
As reality settled in, I sank to the floor and let the tears I’d been holding back spill forth. I was trapped in an isolated place with a man who had been stalking me, and believed we were meant to be together in some fucked-up and twisted fairy tale.
I stared down at my one and only tattoo. I was now marked permanently with his name. There was no doubt he had a claim over me, no matter how nightmarish it was.
I was trapped.
I felt helpless and weak.
But if he wanted me so badly, there was no way in hell I would make it easy for him.
12
DOLLY
It had been a day. But I couldn’t be sure because time seemed to melt together with a strange, warped sensation. The weight of everything that happened was almost suffocating.
Lars had brought in two more meals, and taken me to the restroom a few times, but I never saw him do it. I’d doze off for only a second and wake up to find the meals waiting for me. I watched the sun set and rise once each. I’d barely slept. I was too on edge, too afraid to close my eyes because I didn't know if he’d try to tattoo me again.
And every time I drifted off, I woke up in a panic thinking Lars would be standing over me with a needle and ink, watching me intently, or maybe with rope to bind me to the bed so he could do what he wanted to me.
But on the heels of those nightmarish thoughts, I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he had ample time and opportunities to do so already. He’d been feeding me, had brought all my creature comforts here, but despite “taking care” of me, I was his prisoner.
I’d just finished a light… lunch? Hell, I didn't know what time of day it was to know if I was eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the door because I heard movement right outside just moments before.
I’d had a lot of time to just think about what I was going to do. I knew he’d probably catch me if I ran, but I was going to fight back. I wasn’t going to just submit, even if it was a senseless war.
Lars didn’t lock me in the bedroom. I knew that because I tested it earlier. Would I have tried to leave at that moment? I thought about it as I reached out with my trembling hand and turned the knob just enough to hear the faint click of the latch disengaging.
But fear had taken over, and I hadn’t opened it. I couldn’t bring myself to. The idea of actually stepping out of the room and facing the unknown—of facing him—filled me with a cold, paralyzing fear.
I checked the window, but it would’ve been no help in my escape, either. This cabin was so old that thick layers of paint sealed its edges. The glass was immobile, but I didn't know if that was because of Lars or because this place was ancient and just built that way.
But despite all that, I’d tried.
I focused on the door again. I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I had to assume I was still in Romania. I could see between a couple of the logs that the cabin was isolated. There was nothing out there but a densely wooded forest and danger.
More dangerous than what's in here?
There was so much… silence. I didn’t hear cars or any kind of civilization. The only sounds I could hear were the rustling of trees as the wind picked up, the chirp of birds, and the animals scurrying around on the forest floor.
And then there was the occasional creak of the floorboards as Lars moved back and forth just behind the door that was my lock and key to this prison.
Lars had done one hell of a job completely cutting me off from the outside world.
No phone. No computer or internet. Nothing but the decades-old furniture and bedside lamp that gave the room a muted, eerie vibe.
He made sure it was just him and me.
When he still had yet to come back and I was too nervous to try the door again, I stood and started pacing the room for what felt like the hundredth time. My thoughts were an endless cycle of frantic and disjointed “what ifs.”