Okay, so I'm escaping from The Island and trying something new. I'm letting my dark fantasy side rear its ugly head for a change! And as always, the characters are IC. They'll only have their heads messed with a bit. This is also a future Huddy fic.
Anyway, enjoy :)
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Just what will it take for Lisa Cuddy to finally snap? Normally, it's not something that would cross the minds of most. At least no one sane. However, there was one man that wanted to see just what it would take to make the great Dean of Medicine start to pull her own hair, break a few bones, or maybe even throw herself up against a concrete wall, just to get relief.
He stood in the shadows and watched her at work. She had her lab coat on and was currently signing off on charts in the clinic, going about her day, completely unaware that today would be her last sane day to live. She was smiling, she was laughing, and she was glowing. Could it have something to do with one of her doctors she just talked to? The one with the cane. What's his name? It really doesn't matter, but for someone to argue and yell at someone else and be glowing afterwards, she must have felt something towards him. Either that or she's heavily into conflict and gets off on it.
He was almost sure Lisa was a loner. This doctor guy might be a problem. He seemed too into her. Hmm…
"Cole…Landon?"
Her voice was like a bell. His name rolled off her tongue so nicely. He looked up and saw her smiling face -looking back at him.
"Exam room one," she said as he came forth.
Cole knew where that was, for he's been here before, doing research on the Dean. Cuddy followed him in there, probably by force, even though she tried to look happy to be there. That doctor she was arguing with was probably the one that was supposed to be taking in clinic patients.
He watched Cuddy slap his chart onto the counter and pull out a pen from the breast pocket. "So, the chart says you've been here before because of a past arm fracture."
"Yes, that's right," Cole said, hopping up onto the table, clearly acting as if he wasn't going to be the one to end her life in a few weeks. "I received pain medications the last time I was here and was given strict orders that I had to come back to get the fracture reevaluated to get another script."
Cuddy frowned at him. "Your arm isn't in a sling and you appear to be moving it around okay. Why do you need another script?"
It didn't take Cuddy long to think he was a junkie.
"It hurts to the touch, Dr. Cuddy." He lifted up his shirt sleeve. His arm was extremely banged up and bruised. It got Cuddy's eyes to widen a few centimeters.
"I was in a car accident," he lied.
Cuddy had no reason not to believe him. Her curiosity made her step over and examine his arm.
"Usually the bruising and the swelling goes away before the break heals," she said, holding his arm by his wrist with one hand and pressing in at certain points of his arm with the other.
Cole flinched when Cuddy's hand wasn't even on his arm. Bells went off in Cuddy's head.
"These aren't accident wounds, these are either self inflicted, or you got into a fight," she said, ripping off her latex gloves. "Your arm itself is fine."
"How would you know if you're not me?" he asked, somewhat angry.
Cuddy paid no mind and stepped to the counter to write something in the chart.
"Are you always this rude to your patients?"
Cuddy chuckled, but was mostly made up of air. She didn't bother to look back at him. "I think you have me confused with another doctor that works here, Mr. Landon. I'm saying there's something wrong with your arm, because there isn't. At least nothing to have to take pain medication for."
Cuddy pocketed her pen to her breast pocket and closed the chart with a smile. "It'll heal in a week. Excuse me."
Cuddy left after that. Cole narrowed his eyes at her as she left. If he didn't have a reason for wanting to see her rot away in a dingy old basement, he did now. At least now he had a motive, other than to see her suffer for no reason other than the fact that it pleased him.
She better enjoy her shift, because it's the last one she would ever have.
He waited for her to finish. It was seven pm when she finally left. He watched her walk alone to the car, not having any idea that she was about to get a burlap bag thrown over her head and tightly tied around her neck so she couldn't take it off. He waited until she had her back turned and was about to open her car door when he snuck up behind her as quietly as he could and put his plan into action. He threw the bag over her head and relished at her sudden gasp and struggles. Her purse and keys fell to the ground as her hands reached up to the hem of the bag to try to lift it off her. Cole liked her struggling at first, but now it was getting tiresome, for her entire body resisted against him, including her legs, which in turn kicked back against his, trying to loosen his grip. Not to mention she was screaming at the top of her lungs and fighting him tooth and nail. Cole wanted to take this easily, but Cuddy would soon be attracting ears with her loud voice, even if the staff parking lot was empty. He had to take action. He slammed her upside the head with the butt of the gun he took from the belt of his pants. It didn't do any damage, but the pain was enough to send her screams to whimpers and cries.
"You going to make this easy or hard?" he growled into her ear. "If I were you, I'd pick easy. So stop fucking struggling against me, bitch."
With that forceful order, he grasped both of her arms and chicken winged them behind her back. Cuddy let out another strained cry. She never stopped trying to break away from him, even though by now she knew it was inevitable.
"Please, don't do this. I'll give you anything you want, just please let me go," Cuddy pathetically sniveled.
He yanked her back by the arm. "Oh I know you'll give me everything I want." He pulled her to come with him. "Because if you don't, you'll die."
Cuddy whimpered at that. She had no choice but to comply. Shakily, she half-walked and was half-dragged across the parking lot. Under the burlap sack, she couldn't see a thing. It was as black as night. She didn't know who had her, or why, or if she would ever see daylight again. Where was he taking her? He had a gun on him. She saw that already and still felt the side of her head throbbing from when he hit her with it.
"W-What do you want with me?" Cuddy asked helplessly after coming to a stop. She heard a car door open.
"Get in," he said and allowed her to draw down and get into the backseat of a car.
She gasped out of instinct when it slammed behind her. She felt him get into the car as well and close the door behind him. Evidently, no one saw him doing this, for no one was making a scene or trying to stop them. The only thing she could hear, besides the obvious starting the car and feeling it drive away, was her blood pulsing through her temples and her heart beating so fast in her chest that she was afraid he would hear it.
"You should be nicer to your patients, Dr. Cuddy, because you never know what might happen to you if you don't."
Cuddy's breath was caught in her throat. "M-Mr. Landon?"
"What, you didn't recognize my voice? And you're right, the arm isn't broken."
"And you weren't in an accident," Cuddy realized painfully, struggling to get her breathing under control.
"Actually, the bruises are from some stupid bitch who tried to get away. I put an end to that quickly."
Cuddy swallowed so hard that her stomach started hurting. "So you didn't want the pain meds; you wanted your next victim."
Cuddy couldn't see it, but Cole was beaming. "You are just too good, Dr. Cuddy."
"I'm sorry you weren't treated better, Mr. Landon, I apologize."
"You just want me to let you go," he said, chuckling through the sentence.
"Is that so wrong?"
"Sorry, Lisa, you already saw my face. You know how it works in the movies. Once you see your kidnapper's face, you have to die."
"Well, like in a movie, let me be cliché and ask you what you plan to do with me," Cuddy said, growing somewhat of a backbone in talking back to him.
"Tell you and ruin the surprise? Not a chance. And don't even thinking about untying the string to the sack. If you do that, well, to be cliché as well, you'll die."
Cuddy willed herself not to be afraid. She would just give him what he wants just long enough to be rescued. Once House learned she disappeared, he would do anything he could to look for her. She was sure of that. But just how far would he go?
Cuddy didn't have a chance to think of it, because before she knew it, the car had come to a stop and was turned off.
"We're here," he said, getting out of the car.
"Where's 'here'?" Cuddy asked after being pulled out of the car.
"Home," he said.
Cuddy had no choice but to follow. Whenever she resisted a bit, the grip on her arm would get tighter.
They went down a few flights of stairs and the further they went down, the more ill Cuddy felt. The smell was horrendous. It smelt like rotting flesh and old, stale mold from water.
She recoiled away from him when she felt a cold metal touch her wrist. He didn't say anything. He merely followed her and slapped something around her wrist. Cuddy guessed it was chains by the way they were rattling when he clamped another part on her other wrist. Her arms were bound behind her back by a very good strong piece of non-yielding metal.
"You will be bound until you learn to behave yourself and I can trust that you won't run when you're out of your cage."
"Cage? What the hell am I? A bird?"
"No, Lisa, you are my concubine and I'm going to treat you like one."
Just then, the sack was lifted from Cuddy's head. She was able to see her area very well, for it was lit. It looked just as it smelt. They were in a small, grungy old basement with two doors. Cuddy didn't even want to know where those two doors lead.
"You'll never get away with this," she said, tugging uselessly on the chains. "People will know I'm missing."
"People knew my past victims were missing and they were never found," he said, sounding very cocky and sure of himself.
Cuddy bit her lower lip when one of his hands brushed against her ass. Looks like he wanted more out of her than she thought.
"Your new home will be a ten by ten room with nothing in it except for a small, wooden chair and the permanent residence of dust and leaky pipes. The walls are make up of electricity, so don't even think about touching them or you'll be filled with so many volts that it'll tear you to pieces. You'll be fed once a week and your water will come if you're good."
Tears fell down Cuddy's eyes as he explained her living conditions to her. It was becoming more and more real to her. Her knees shook. No one would be coming after her.
"And when I want sex, I want sex. See that room next to yours? It's called my playhouse. It has everything you could imagine. If I wake up in the middle of the night with the sudden urge to fuck you, you will comply, or else you will get shocked and tortured. Is this clear?"
Cuddy had no choice but to nod. In her mind, and heart, she begged for someone to come to her.
"These are your new clothes. Get in there and change."
He handed her an old grey tank top and a pair of old, worn out matching shorts that would come up to her thighs. Both articles of clothing were torn in random spots. She guessed this is what he gave all the girls to wear. They didn't have a very good smell to them either.
Even though it appeared to be real, she still hoped that once she looked at this man, he would smile and say it was a joke.
When Cuddy got into the small hole in the wall that was completely made out of cement, she realized it was no joke. This was real. Every part of it, right down to the foul smell of old mold and water.
She flinched when the door slammed shut behind her.
"You got exactly one minute to remove your clothes and put those on, or you'll be introduced to something I don't usually show newcomers until their first month here."
Cuddy remembered the chains on her wrists. They gave her enough leeway to move her arms up and down and apart, but taking off her shirt will be an issue.
"Move!" his voice boomed, echoing off the walls and making her flinch.
"The…chains…I won't be able to take…"
As if he expected that, Cole sighed angrily and walked into the room. "You just won't quit, will you?"
Cuddy certainly didn't plan on it. Once one of her wrists were free, she very swiftly wrapped the chain around the back of Cole's neck and used whatever strength she had to attempt to shove him into the "electric" wall. Cuddy was immensely strong under pressure. It's a good thing because her life depended on it.
Cuddy succeeded in her plan, but there was one thing she forgot to take in account—her other wrist was still attached to the restraint and ended up going with him. Before she could make a move after that, he recovered quickly, for the walls were just normal concrete. Cuddy realized her error and grew more afraid than she had ever been in her life. She didn't even see the backhand that flew across her face a second later. Cole pinned her up against the wall, clamping his hands around her throat. His face got inches into hers.
"Don't EVER do that again, do you understand me?!" His hot breath pounded her face.
His hands around her neck started to hurt Cuddy, as well as block her ability to breathe. Upon instinct, her hands went immediately to his to pry them loose.
He let her go just as she was seconds from blacking out. She slumped against the wall and coughed violently, followed by several gasps of air.
"For that, you're not eating for a week. Now hurry up and change."
The lack of oxygen to the brain had a profound effect on Cuddy. She couldn't think straight. But there's one thing she did know—this was becoming more and more painfully real. This place was real and there were people here before her. The place reeked of the remnants of other human beings and the clothes she was forced to wear smelt even stronger. It wasn't so much a foul smell as it was a smell of age and history. Whoever this man is, Cuddy wasn't his first victim. There were others, ones who never made it out. If they did, they would've told someone and brought them to this place.
That told Cuddy one thing—escape wasn't an option.
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