Against My Will

Chapter Two - Gray

     It was only then, I saw, that metal nails had been hammered into the wood from the outside.

     I was a caged animal after all.

     I turned on my heel. The distance between the Catcher and I closed immensely; three more steps and he could reach out and touch me. I shuddered violently, pushing myself back against the wall.

     "Stay away," I warned, throwing a hand out.

     He paused. The room became silent once more. And then everything happened in rapid succession.

     Him, his arm unraveling from his side like a snake that had been coiled, his hand latching onto my wrist.

     Me, mouth dropping down in surprise at the speed hidden within his huge frame.

     Him, yanking me forward and then pushing me away right before I collided with his body.

     Me, being thrown aside and back onto the bed, my back flouncing on the mattress, brain jostling.

     Catcher stared down at me. Gray eyes. That was all I could identify. Steel-gray eyes shrouded with darkness stared at my petrified complexion. Terror locked my body down. I was frozen by the icy tendrils of fear. My teeth chattered, but not from the cold.

     I regained my focus, forcing my arms to pull me backwards. What did he want?

     Another step.

     "What do you want?" I demanded, trying to sound strong. It was anything but.

     His shins bumped the edge of the bed as he took one last step forward. He was so tall. I felt like a mouse trapped under the hungry gaze of a cat.

     Catcher leaned over the bed, slowly, and I scrabbled back into the wall, a horrified, sweaty mess of heavy breaths and soft whimpers. I was no match for him if I needed to defend myself.

     The solid wood of the headboard connected with my shoulder blades. I could only crawl so far, only put so much distance in between the two of us. It wasn't enough.

     One of his hands palmed the mattress. His other hand reached out to me, fingers elongated. They reminded me of centipedes - long and twitchy, hunting for something to touch.

     I slapped away the hand in a bold attempt. A stupid attempt.

     His arm barely moved from the hit. A single moment, coated in thick silence, passed.

     Then he lunged at me.

     I closed my eyes and screamed and kicked out a leg. The sole of my shoe came into contact with something thick - a thigh, most likely. An audible grunt was the response. A hand grabbed my bicep, long fingers curling around my arm easily, just as another hand pushed against my mouth. He held my right arm down. I thrashed as much as I could.

     I opened my eyes to see the Catcher shifting himself on the bed. He shoved his knee onto one of my thighs as I continued to squirm. My left leg free, I swung it around, aiming for anything, only to end up getting it tangled with his other leg. He pinned my lower half.

     "Help!"

     I screamed louder into his hand, feeling my head go dizzy with the pitch. My ears rang with the noise, but I am assured that it pained his auditory more than mine; I was accustomed to the sound. Catcher pushed my lower jaw up into my top teeth. With my free hand I shoved at him, pushing at his stomach, his ribs, his chest, not able to reach his neck. The combination of fighting and screaming made my head feel light as a feather, efforts going nowhere.