Chapter 10:
Like lava, the stew went down her throat and into her belly, satisfying her hunger. Oh god, it was so good! The little pieces of meat were absolute heaven! Jill had barely taken her time eating.
The pieces of carrots and potatoes burned her throat and made a nest of extreme warmth. Her stomach pains were gone, her hunger disappeared, the juice and taste were succulent.
The big blanket was wrapped around her feet, wrapped around her shoulders, and giving her the comfort as if someone was hugging her. How she wished someone was. It also smelled quite clean, so that was a bonus.
Immediately the blanket began to work its magic, and Jill was beginning to warm up, the heat breaking the cold chill on her body. The blanket had almost become her armor, protecting her.
How much shit can she take? A vacation gone awry, her parents are probably freaking out at the moment, and she was nowhere near safe. Maybe they had called the cops and they were on their way.
She wasn't safe. Without that psychopath walking above her, somewhere on the floorboards. The light bulb above hadn't come on after he had left, but Jill was still keeping her eye on it.
That was the main thing on Jill's mind, her eyes never left it.
It was the only light in the room, she couldn't see her hands infront of her face.
There was moonlight at the window, but that wasn't enough.
Jill lifted her head, looking at the pipes and the floorboards. What kind of house was this? What was he doing up there? Was this a normal house with a neighborhood she can yell to for help? Was this a shack? An abandoned house? Were they in a city? In the middle of the desert? It was no use now, the situation was hopeless, unless she got out this damn cage.
Her eyes went back to the light bulb, but she was getting a headache. Jill was still on alert, but it was taking all her energy. She needed rest, and the increasing heat of the blanket made her all the more tired.
To her despair, the stew was gone, and all she had was the blanket. She laid her head down, brushing back her greasy hair, hugging herself. How she wished she could take a shower.
A sudden super sonic noise was screaming in her head. Her hands came up and clamped her head together, making her headache worsen. Slowly, but surely, she felt oddly sleepy, but more drowsy than sleepy.
She kept yawning and snuggling deeper into the blanket. Her eyes getting more heavier. Her vision was blurry, as if she was under water. Jill stretched her legs out, laid her head on her pillow, and fell into a deep, deep, deep sleep.
Then…
She was out for the night.
Only a few minutes had passed and Jill was still silently sleeping. There's no proof that she was dreaming, but she was comfortable and content. Surprisingly, she had a good mattress and pillow, it was soft and comfortable. The soup had done her good, warming her veins, giving her some hope of living. The night got longer and more noisy with the sound of crickets.
But unbeknownst to her, the light bulb came on.
Glowing, giving light to everything in the room. Strings of dust fell from the floorboards above Jill, and an eerie creaking came from every footstep that was heard. The stranger, the hunter, was moving. The awful creaking continued, then stopped. The door above opened, slammed, heavy boots slowly walked down the stairway, and he appeared through the red curtain.
There he stood, perfectly comfortable in shadow.
He smirked under his mash. Yes. The sleeping pill had worked. The girl was sleeping, totally unaware he opened her cage, and sat on her bed next to her. Now, dear readers, this stranger wasn't like any other psychopath that some might think that he is. This stranger was patient.
He just didn't want to cut her throat, have his way, throw her aside and be done with it. No, he wanted to play. What to do with her now? The stranger looked at the empty bowl, but he couldn't take it, she would know it would be gone and she'd know he had been down here.
That'd scare the shit out of her.
No, he'll let it be.
He put his focus on the girl.
"My little mouse…"
His hands rested on the back of her knee. This playtime wasn't what he expected it to be, but he didn't complain. His blanket had at least won her affection. The stranger got up circled around her bed, and knelt down, looking directly at her face.
That beautiful face. And of course he saw the cut on her bottom lip. She was… she…was… words couldn't describe it. Her cheeks looked like fresh milk with a rosy glow. Her shortened hair was perfect nonetheless.
He looked at her curves. His big hands slowly pulled off the covers, very careful not to wake her, and she did not stir from the open exposure of cold air. He trembled, and he realized he was breathing like he had a gas mask on.
What torment.
Without any hesitation he got up, lifted her shirt, and began to kiss her stomach. He didn't wolf her down, but softly and gently, the kidnapper even took his time doing it. With all that he was, he was good at being gentle.
Her small ribs pushed against lips as she took every breathe. This girl was fragile in so many ways, and there was so much she didn't know about an intercourse. Even when it came to being touched by a man, not a boy. There was so much she didn't know, but there was so much she could learn.
His big hands wrapped around her waist, his lips kissed around her stomach, caressing her like a baby. He sucked in his stomach to his spine.
His teeth softly nipped at her, but he wanted to bite harder. A heat, an arousing heat built up in his chest then slithered to his stomach.
Making him groan. He stopped kissing and just nuzzled his face into her, trying to smell her and be closer to her. Her stomach was hot, burning almost.
Feeling her, pressing into her, and turning his head sideways. In ways it looked like he was worshipping her, on his knees and trying to caress this ravenous and clearly unaffectionate princess.
Man, he'd be screwed if she was awake.
He'll savor it, this special moment.
Just as he savored her kiss. The kiss she gave him.
At that moment when she kissed him, her taste ripped a path down his throat, heated his chest and made his mind explode.
Explode!
With a quick jolt, he was sitting on the floor, nearly breaking into a sweat. He put down his mask and rubbed his temples.
He pulled up his legs, and sat there. Damn it. Damn it all. He put his head between his legs and sighed. Control. He has to learn how to control himself. He went over, put her shirt down, and got up.
She'll be waking up soon, so he locked her cage door, and left her alone. Turning around, he took a breathe through his teeth.
The kidnapper looked back at her, and wonders what kind of sound her neck will make if he snaps it. Would it take her 5 minutes to die? Would it take 30 minutes to die? Would it take an hour? But enough of that, there has to be patience. If there was no patience, what kind of hunter would he be?
He walks up the stairs and locks the door. He'll leave the light on for her.