The Prisoner of The Room

36 4 6
                                    

Alyssan

Think Alyssan. How are you going to get out of this? How are you going to get out of here?

I wonder as I sit in the passenger seat of my killers jeep. Of Sawyer's Jeep. A man I once thought to be my ally. My savior. A man I once thought I could trust. Looks like I'd been wrong about him once again.

What are the odds? The only person who can see me after death is the one who'd put me here.

I shudder as I remember everything he'd done to me that led to my death. It's all so vividly clear now. All so much more real that I can hardly believe it.

Sawyer had been my tormentor. The one who killed me and countless other girls. The man who locked my body up to rot in a closet in the basement of his abandoned house.

"We're here." He said gruffly as he parks the car across the street. I look out the window at the house and up at the stained glass window. I remember the first time I had seen it, when I was alive. He hadn't drugged me. Said it wouldn't be as fun. Now, it doesn't matter if he drugs me or not. He's the only one who'll be able to hear me scream. I become even colder at the revelation.

He's the only person who can see me. The only person who can hear me.

"The only person who can touch me." I whispered under my breath and I shudder as I begin to understand what that truly means.

He's the only person who can hurt me.

No one will come. No one came last time. No one heard me scream when I was alive. What's going to happen to me now?

I wonder as I'm yanked from the passengers seat. I try to break free from Sawyer's grip, but it's pointless. He was stronger than me before death and he still is now. It doesn't stop me from trying, though. It doesn't stop me from fighting against him with everything I've got because, really, what other choice do I have?

"Good. Keep struggling. It only makes this better for me." He said, looking back at me and I still at the look in his eyes. At the sick enjoyment he's getting from all of this.

How had I never realized it before? How had I never seen it? My killer, standing beside me all along. Tricking me. Playing me. Leading me along. I cry in defeat, because I was a fool. A stupid child who couldn't have been more blind.

I'm pulled into the building that I stood in only hours ago with Sawyer, believing that he was helping me. I still as I remember how he'd left right before I'd gone down to the basement.

He knew.

I thought.

He knew all along. God. He knew and he just watched and laughed as I ran around trying to figure out what the hell was going on and he knew.

A hiccup of a sob escapes past the gag as the whole situation only becomes even more real.

Sawyer Garrison is my killer.

More tears spill down my cheeks as we walk deeper into the dark house and towards the basement door. I watch as he pulls out his cell phone and turns on his flashlight to illuminate our way down the stairs and into the room that holds my body.

"You remember this place, don't you Alyssan? How much fun we had down here?" I don't say anything to that as I take each step slowly. "You're cries echoed so lovely in this room. I wonder if they'll sound the same now that your dead." He said and I flinch as he tugs lightly on a strand of my hair. A smile curls his lips at that.

He leads me over to the table where I was once strapped before and I take a step away from it only to be yanked forward when he grabs onto the front of my shirt.

"You aren't going anywhere." He said, his voice cold and cruel. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, willing this all to be a dream. Willing myself to wake up from this nightmare, but when I open them again I'm still in the same room with my killer.

Sawyer forces me onto the table and I fight him tooth and nail, struggling just like I had three months ago and, just like three months ago, he wrestles me to the table, strapping my wrists, ankles, and neck down.

I'm completely entrapped.

Completely at his mercy once more.

Completely his.

"You know, this is very nostalgic." Sawyer said as he removes my gag and begins walking around me. "I never actually expected to be here again, at least not with you on the table, Alyssan. I must say, I am surprised.

"When I saw you leaning against that tree two days ago, I was completely freaked out. At first, I thought I'd just been imagining things. That I was finally losing my mind."

"You already have." Sawyer ignores me and continues on.

"Then, when I woke up in the nurses office I was even more freaked out because she couldn't see you. Only I could." He stops walking around and looks at me. "And then, I woke up at home and saw you a third time, sitting at the end of my bed reading one of my magazines. Truthfully, I agree with you. They suck, but Lynn insists on me reading them."

"What do you want with me?" I asked as I struggle against the restraints that hold me captive. Sawyer looks down at his hand and he continues on as if I had never spoken.

"Then, I find out you have amnesia. Amnesia of all things and you were asking me of all people to help you figure out what had happened to you. It was priceless, really." He leans down and I flinch as his breath moves across my cheek. "You really put my acting to the test Miss Bogard." He stands up and walks over to his metal rolling table. "It was actually quite fun, watching you struggle to remember and figure out what happened. And then, when you saw my most recent release in that picture and remembered, the fun only increased because you still didn't know it was me. I mean, how much better could it get?"

"Just stop." I whimpered.

"And you just kept looking, kept trying to figure out who your killer was. It was truly entertaining, really. I was surprised when you found the house, though. I wasn't exactly ready for you to figure out that you're killer is me. I was actually quite worried you'd go into the house before me." He turns away from the metal table, a knife in hand. "Thank god you're such a good girl and listen when people tell you something." He glides the knife gently against my skin and I flinch at how cold it feels. At how much pain it can inflict. When he continues to glide it down my throat I speak up.

"What do you want from me Sawyer?!" He hums in satisfaction at the distress in my voice.

"You know, you were the best. Had the best screams. Had the best skin. The best face. Carving you up, hurting you, was the best release I ever had. Mykayla was fun, but the first time's always fun. Brittney was interesting because she just kept praying to the angels. Tabitha was okay, she screamed a lot which was entertaining, but she wasn't too pretty. And then you came along and the others after you, well it just wasn't the same." He pauses and looks over my body thoughtfully before continuing. "Now that you've remembered, now that you can't die I wonder how much more fun I can have." He stabs the knife into my shoulder and the biting pain I'd felt three months ago comes back to me all at once.

My back arches off of the table and the scream escapes past my lips. My eyes find Sawyer's face and his lips are twisted into a cruel smile. His eyes large and crazed as he watches me in enjoyment.

"It's almost like destiny, isn't Alyssan. Almost as if God wanted me to have you all to myself. It's true isn't it? He sent you back down here as a gift to me."

My head turns and I find my body, sagged and decaying in the small closet. I was tortured here. I was held captive here. I died here. And now,

Now I'm a prisoner here.

My lips curve and curl. The corners turn up and into a smile and I just keep my eyes on my body, as if communicating with the empty, rotting shell. When he laughs, I look away and into those amber eyes and he seems taken aback at my smile.

"Have you're fun Mr. Garrison, for it will not last." I said and Sawyer seems to hesitate for only a moment before bringing his blade back to my skin and carving and carving away. And I stay there, letting him, feeling the pain as I felt it three months ago. And I wait. I wait and scream like the good little prisoner I am.

Because the tables will turn.

Carvings That BindWhere stories live. Discover now