In the Arms of Danger

Capture

Shit! Did you just kill Bob?! You're frozen in the truck as you stare at Bob's collapsed body right behind you in the rear view window, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to think. Maybe he wasn't chopping up a person! Maybe it was some deformed animal? Why are you trying to justify this? You're pretty positive you saw a human arm being chopped off a bloody torso, Bob grinning and drooling above it. You glance in the rearview mirror again at Bob's still body, taking a deep breath and throwing the truck into drive. You need to get out of here.  A scream leaves you when Bob is suddenly at the window, slamming down on the gas and in your panic smashing right through tall bramble bushes that bring the truck to a stop.

You quickly climb into the back of the truck and throw open the back window, climbing out and looking around you. There's brambles everywhere but you need to get out of here. The bed isn't completely covered so you leap out that way, grunting in pain when you land. At least your prosthetic hasn't busted.

"Y/N!" Bob barks as he rushes towards you, quickly turning tail and bolting into the trees. "Wait! Just hear me out!"

Nope! You're so not doing that. You don't want to become the next victim. Of course something just had to go wrong. It's always too good to be true. You yelp when your prosthetic catches on a tree root and you're sent crashing to the ground, your vision blurring as tears cascade down your cheeks. No! No, no, no, no! You work to get back to your feet, screaming when you're suddenly grabbed from behind.

"No! Let me go! Let me go!" You scream in your panic, struggling against Bob.

All knowledge of martial arts and hand to hand combat completely space in your mind. The adrenaline is causing the sound of your heartbeat in your ears to be almost deafening. Your breathing goes short and the tears don't stop streaming down your cheeks. You wind up getting sick in Bob's arms, trembling from the force your body exerts getting sick. You slump when you finally stop, barely even registering Bob lifting you into his arms. Instinctively you clutch his shirt and press closer to him. Even the very strong smell of blood doesn't snap you out of your daze.

"Geez, ya coulda hurt yourself," Bob grumbles softly.

You look up at him and then at the house as he slowly walks you to it, panic sparking up all over again as your eyes go wide.

"N-No! Please!" You sob out as you begin pushing against his chest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Please! Please don't kill me."

"I ain't gonna kill ya," Bob growls back, his anger only sending you into further hysterics.

"I'm sorry," You sob over and over again. "I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I'll be good. Bob.  Bob please."

He stays silent and you watch with wide eyes as he moves towards the house. Your gaze is on the door to the cellar as the doors menacingly hang open. You close your eyes tight and wait for the descent but instead Bob walks right past it and to the front door. He's able to get it open despite holding you and you're just blubbering endlessly without any real words coming out of your mouth. Bob is silent as he holds you, taking you to the bedroom where he sets you on the bed. It feels like your mind just short circuits as you stare ahead of you.

"I hate ta do this but I need you calmed down enough to talk. I have business ta finish up. You just.....gather yourself," He tells you.

With those final words he leaves the bedroom and leaves you sitting there alone in the Bed. You bury your head in your hands and break down all over again. The exhaustion gets to you and you end up passed out, not even registering the fact your good leg is now in a shackle.

~~Bob's Pov~~

"GOD DAMMIT!" He snarls, driving his knife into the chest of the body he was cutting up.