Trapped With A Killer

Chapter Nine

I came to consciousness slowly, and I instantly recognized where I was. It was the room Wheaton had first locked me in, inside his warehouse. I blinked deliberately and sat up carefully from where I was laid out on a thin mattress on the floor. It even smelled like how I remembered it from all those months ago, like dust and bleach. I wasn't chained up this time so I decided to try the door, but the handle just rattled. No luck, of course.

I furrowed my brow against my pounding headache as I thought about what Wheaton said before I passed out after that freak drugged me. He was prepared, and he didn't want to kill me... I had a bad feeling that just because he didn't want to kill me doesn't mean he wouldn't be killing someone else very soon. If I didn't act fast, it would be like Hannah all over again. But all I had in this room to work with was a mattress, a plastic bucket, and my own weakened body. Not a lot to go on. I sat down and put my head in my hands. Dammit, why was I so powerless?! My head snapped up as I heard the door at the end of the hall slide open. I quickly scrambled to my feet and swallowed hard as Wheaton unlocked the door.

"Oh good, you're awake!" he said more cheerfully than I'd heard him in a long time. But his voice was distorted by that weird mask he was wearing again. I scanned him up and down, no blood.

"What am I doing here," I asked cautiously, fearing the answer.

"You're here to watch the show of course! I can't wait for you to meet them. Oh I've found some good ones this time. I watched them for ages before I was sure they were safe. After all, couldn't afford another screw up like last time." My guts felt like they were filled with cement.

"You-You took someone else, didn't you," I cried.

"Shush." Wheaton stepped up to me and cupped my cheek. "I did this for you. I waited too long, and I was hurting you. Now, I can hurt them instead." I sobbed and fell to the ground.

"No!" I screamed. "I don't want this! Please, let them go. Just hurt me, please..." Wheaton wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"You and I both know you don't mean that. Remember, you don't want to die. You're a survivor. That's why I like you so much. You'll do anything to live."

"No," I protested between sobs. "I promise I'll do whatever you want. Just don't kill anyone else. Please!" Wheaton rubbed his disgusting leather mask against my cheek and hushed me softly.

"It's fine to deceive yourself. But I know the truth about you, and soon you will too," he whispered. When he left, the screams started, and they just didn't stop. I huddled against the farthest wall, pressed my hands tightly over my ears, and tried to block it out, and eventually an uneasy sleep found me.

***********

Wheaton returned with a small breakfast that I didn't touch. I smelled the blood on him, and it made me queasy enough that I wanted to die. I didn't want to know what he had done to someone to make them scream like that.

"You'd better eat, because today I'm putting you to work!" Wheaton smiled. I looked up at him, troubled by what he could mean by that. "I know your wrist is still healing, but I'm sure you'll manage." With that, Wheaton led me down the hall and into the torture room with it's many shelves full of buckets and bags of chemicals. In the center were two half dressed forms tied to chairs with sacks over their heads. One female and one male.

"Wanna meet them?" Wheaton said excited like a child showing off his new toy. He manhandled me until I stood right in front of them and then walked over to the woman who I noticed was missing several toes. In fact, I was standing barefoot in a sticky red puddle that originated from her chair. As I stood there shaking, my eyes wandered over to the spot on the floor Wheaton had chained me to when he first... when he first...