Title: Stalked - Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No matter how much I beg, nobody will let me have them. And that's sad.

Authors' note: Ok. This chapter is long. Sol, thank you millions for the beta! Now for the rest of you...leave me some feedback. I am so past begging. Now I am demanding. Leave it! or I shall with-hold the next chapter! Mwahahaha:o) So leave me some ok? Thank you!

Sara sat up, her head feeling groggy, when she heard footsteps pounding down the stairs. At first she couldn't figure out where she was; but as the chains around her ankle clanged together, the memories rushed back to her again, like they always did. Quickly, she stood. The footsteps could only mean that Nity was heading down the stairs. And she was not going to let him catch her vulnerable, she hadn't yet. She wondered what time it was. Hell, what day it was.

Using her food intake and bathroom visits, she figured she'd been chained to this pole now for about fifteen days, give or take. It didn't seem possible to actually lose track of time, but this man hadn't let her upstairs for longer then three minutes at a shot. A few times it had been daylight, the rest; only darkness had welcomed her from the dirty windows.

So far, Nity hadn't said anything or done anything to suggest that he was going to harm her. He'd leave everyday, she assumed he was at work, or maybe just keeping an ear to the ground about her. Hell, maybe he was upstairs, watching her on that damned camera. She hated not knowing.

Then he'd come back and sit down next to her and talk like they'd known each other forever. She needn't say much; he seemed to love the sound of his own voice. She just nodded and attempted to pay attention.

He brought her three meals a day, her water pitcher was always full, and as far as she could tell he'd never drugged her. She played timid, like she enjoyed their conversations, like she appreciated him for all he was doing, and she no longer fought him when he kissed her cheeks or touched her face. She really wanted to believe she wasn't scared of him anymore, and that she was just angry.

He seemed to be in a state of delusion. He believed he loved her, believed she reciprocated those feelings. What she was afraid of was the day she wouldn't be able to keep up with that ploy any longer, and he gave her a reason to fear him.

He'd brought her clothes from her apartment, her brush, toothbrush…books, her CD player and even a small portion of her CD collection. She'd never heard of a kidnapper going to such lengths before, and it surprised her.

He had taken her upstairs to shower numerous times since she'd been here, the first time being a day or so after she'd arrived here. She'd been surprised to find her brand of shampoo and soap sitting on the edge of the tub that first time.

When she'd gotten out of the quickest shower she'd ever taken, her amazement had doubled when she found the small cupboard under the sink stocked with everything she had in her own home. From the brand of headache medicine to the lavender scented candle. She had come to grips with the fact that he'd been in her home, that he'd watched her sleep, but the fact that he knew what she kept under her sink; well that had creeped her out beyond words. There are just some things a person assumes are private.

When she had come out of the bathroom holding the candle, Nity had just smiled at her. "I know it's not yours…and I really wanted to get it for you, but those friends of your have your apartment sealed. I probably shouldn't go back there."

She had felt amazing relief at those words. They knew she was gone, and they knew something wasn't right. They wouldn't let her down, they'd find her, all she had to do was hang on and she'd be alright.

But that had been forever ago.

Nity appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Sara? You need to go up?" he asked with a sweet tone to his voice, asking her if she had to use the bathroom.

"Yeah." She sat down and held her ankle out to him. This had become part of their routine, but this time he threw in a twist. The gun was gone. She didn't remark on it and did well pretending she didn't notice that it wasn't there.

As they were climbing the stairs he smiled at her. "Would you like to spend some time up here with me today? It wouldn't be so hard to move the chain upstairs…"

"Really? I'd love that." Her mind raced, he only had one chain…he was going to have to move it…hopefully while she wasn't attached to the other end.

He stopped at the bathroom door. "Go."

As was routine, she had two minutes before he opened the door. As soon as she shut it behind her, she went straight to the window and pressed her hands against the cool glass, once again trying to see anything that would help her. Even in the quickly fading daylight, nothing moved and nothing changed. She wasn't sure why she even bothered looking anymore, except that she felt like it was her way to steal a moment, to pretend she was still free.

When he opened the door a minute and a half later she was flushing the toilet. "You done?"

"Yeah. Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything love."

"What day is it?"

He chuckled. "That wasn't the question I thought you were going to ask, but it's Friday."

Sara nodded. She'd been here for just over fifteen full days; it had been a Thursday when he'd taken her. "Can I have a clock?" The question blurted from her mouth before she realized how insane that actually sounded. "I mean…I'd like to know when I'm asleep, how long I've slept, that sort of thing." In truth it just scared her to never even know when it was.

"A clock? I'll think about it ok? I'm not promising anything." He took her arm and led her back toward the basement.

"I thought I was going to sit up here for awhile." She tried to pull him to a stop but he was bigger and stronger then her.

"Well, you are, but we need to go get that chain first. Too many escape routes from up here." He winked at her like that had been his own personal joke. "As soon as we get it, we'll go watch a movie or play a board game. You seem kind of bored lately; I decided we need to do something to stimulate your mind a little." He grinned. "We don't want to waste that brain, dear Sara; it is one of your most beautiful assets…besides, of course, the obvious." He stopped, reached around behind her, and slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans.

She swallowed the immediate, almost primal urge to slap him that arose in her, and instead kept facing straight ahead, pretending that she didn't notice. This was something she'd endured a lot of the last few days, him touching her in small ways. But as long as she didn't flinch or pull away, he didn't turn it into something bigger. She silently wondered how much longer these little touches were going to be enough for him. She had started praying frantically to a god she wasn't sure she trusted that her friends would find her before he escalated to that.

As they reached the basement door he stopped. "That's right. You haven't seen this yet." He grinned as he moved her to the counter beside the door. With a quick flip of his wrist he had a set of handcuffs. One end was already attached to a metal bar hanging on the wall. "See, I really did think of everything." He had her wrist in the cuff before she could find the words to protest. "Wait here."

He started down the stairs and Sara stared in disbelief at her hand. How did he manage to acquire all this stuff without raising some flags? Chains, prison quality wall mounts, handcuffs? It was ridiculous, people got hauled in to the police station every day for buying numerous packets of cold medicine, but hell, just let them buy chains and handcuffs. No need to ask questions; obviously they just have a kinky side. She rolled her eyes. Great. Who knew what else he had up his sleeve? She slumped against the counter. This was one hell of a sticky situation. It was becoming painfully clear that this hadn't been some spur of the moment decision to finally act on his obsession. This had been carefully thought out and planned.

She heard him coming back up the stairs and stood up straight. He appeared with the chain in tow. "I was going to get a few more of these…but then I decided that it would be cheaper to just attach some handcuffs around, for when I needed to move you." He stopped in front of her and set the heavy chain down. "So, what do you want to do? I need to know where to hook this up."

"Can I go outside?" She looked at him and actually managed a small smile.

"Uh, no. Sorry dear, but that is a no-no. I don't need the neighbors to see you chained to a tree in my yard. That'll get the cops over here fast. You're funny." He giggled childishly.

Sara was almost ecstatic with the knowledge that he had neighbors. That meant that if she managed to get away, she would have somewhere to run. She let that thought play in her head until she realized that he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to respond. "I try." She shrugged.

He again laughed at her. "I think we should go watch a movie. Does that sound good to you?"

"Sure. Why not?"

After he had attached the chain securely to the pole in the family room, he came back and flipped through a small set of keys he wore around his neck. Finding the one he was looking for, he used it to unlock the handcuffs. As he led her through the dimly lit house, Sara shuddered. Having not spent a lot of time up here, she had never really seen how creepy it actually was.

She knew the basement like the back of her hand. From the way it smelled, to the eighty-seven cracks in the ceiling, and which steps creaked when he was coming down. She knew when the spiders were at work, because she noticed every new web that formed across the darkened windows. She could tell by the clanging of the old pipes whether he was using the bathroom, running the sink in the kitchen, or using the shower. After only two weeks, she knew the thump of the furnace kicking in, and the soft dripping of water from a pipe somewhere she could not see. She had even, almost anyway, been able to tell the difference between night and day by the shade of black on the windows. When the sun shined down on them, they became almost gray instead of the midnight black they were when the sun went down. She had been staring at them day in and day out, wishing for the sight of sunlight to pass through. To remind her that she was still alive.

But up here, in the main part of the house, things held the same dingy feeling they did in the basement. It was a different kind of uneasiness that filled her here. Strange as it sounds, the basement had become her home. Not home in the sense that she wanted to live there, no; but home in the sense that it was her comfort area. Even having been chained to a pole, she felt a level of control when she was down there. It was her territory, and she could feel relatively safe there. Down there, she knew how things worked. When he sat in the chair beside her, it meant he'd had a long day, and he wanted her to listen. Those were the easy moments. When he just sat there, rocking and talking, almost to himself. When he stood over her, as she lay sleeping (or pretending to), she knew that she should not acknowledge him…for whatever reason, she was aware that if he knew that she knew he was standing there; there would be trouble to pay. The worst moments came when he would force her to lay beside him, and he would hold her like a man holds a woman. Close, whispering secrets in her ear - dark scary secrets.

The first time he'd done this, Sara had fought back. That had gotten her nothing except a black eye and another lessoned learned. The lesson being that, when she'd lost the ability to run, she'd lost the necessity to fight. She could hit him back, and she could scream and bite and kick. But in the end, she was still his. She was still attached to the pole, with no way to get away. So it was better to just let him do what he wanted to do, string him along; let him believe that she was done fighting, until the day came where the ability to run was given back to her.

He had attached the chain to a pole beside the couch. When he pointed to it, she sat. She kept trying to convince herself that this act of submission was just that: an act. But she wasn't sure how much longer she was going to believe it. She tried to believe that she was still strong and still courageous. That this was all just a game of pretend to get him to trust her, to relax the restraints. But if she wanted to be honest with herself, it was almost more that she just didn't want to fight anymore. She was tired of getting hit, scared of how far he might take it the next time. She was convinced that he would snap and kill her. So she was docile. Underneath the nonchalant attitude she presented to him, and the steel-like exterior she portrayed, Sara Sidle was scared. Really scared.

He sat down beside her and smiled. "So, what do you want to watch?"

"What've you got?"

"Almost anything. Drama? Romance? Action?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Adult? No, I know, for my little comedian…we'll watch a comedy."

"Sure." She shrugged. "I could use a good laugh."

When he moved to the TV and started the movie, Sara recognized it as one she'd seen a year or so previously. She'd rented it on one of her rare nights off. "I like this one."

"I know. You rented it for a full five days, instead of your usual two." He flipped the overhead lights off, leaving a low watt bulb burning in a lamp beside her.

It had ceased to amaze her exactly what he knew about her. She just figured he knew everything. The first time he says 'I didn't know that.' - now that will shock her. Apparently the life she believed had been so private had been more open then she thought.

Had been. She'd used past tense.

Did that mean she'd already given up? Or that she considered that to be her old life?

As Nity continued talking about the movie, she went back to her own thoughts. She'd never been one to give up, never been one to quit. But it had been so long, and just because she wasn't technically a cop didn't mean she didn't know how it worked. People had to quit eventually. Everyone had their breaking point. It had been two weeks and Nity had never even seemed concerned that they were on to him. After two weeks it was very likely that her case had grown cold. It was even possible that they were now just waiting for her body to be found. She didn't want to think like that, that her friends had given up. But if their roles were reversed…how much faith would she have left that they would find a survivor instead of a corpse? Not a lot. The answer to her own question rocked her.

As the movie played out, Nity began twirling her hair between his fingers. At first she pretended not to notice, but when his fingers started brushing against her cheek she immediately went on high alert. He'd touched her a lot in the last weeks, but this one was different. He seemed almost unsure. Her heart rate picked up and she tried hard to control her breathing, lest he know that she knew what was coming.

As she sat there, upright and tense, he let go of her hair and traced his fingers down her neck. An involuntary shudder coursed through her, and he chuckled. "You like that?"

Using his other hand he turned her face towards him. She closed her eyes and couldn't help the disgusted look that formed on her facial features. "No."

"I've waited so long Sara. Do you know what six years of wanting can do to a person? It's torture. So many nights I would stand over you, watching you. Wanting you. But I was so patient. And patience deserves a reward. Don't you think?"

"I think you're sick." She opened her eyes and met his in time to see them flame with anger.

"Sick? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He had his nose to hers now and his hands were holding her face still. "Tell me. I think I have the right to know."

It had been the anger and the courage she thought she'd lost that had made her speak up in the first place. Now she felt those things dissipating faster then she could believe. She jerked her head back away from him and attempted to stand in a natural response to run, but he caught her around the waist and pulled her back down so she was sprawled half across him. She brought her hands up to either fight him off or fend him off…depending on her nerves.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!" She gasped as her nerves failed her.

"TELL ME!" His face was turning an ugly shade of red and his voice was higher in pitch when he was yelling. He attempted to grasp her wrists but she wriggled to pull them away and somehow managed to push herself back into a sitting position. When he stood up and glowered over her, she felt her walls wavering and tears threatened to fall. "You're just like everyone else, aren't you? Think I need to see a shrink? That there's something wrong in my head? You are wrong, dear Sara. So wrong."

"N..no..no. That's not what I said…I meant you…."

"Shut up! I KNOW what you meant! You shouldn't talk to me like that…you know the price you'll have to pay. As much as I hate doing it, it's in the rules. You must be punished for disobeying me. Bitch!" He punctuated the last word with a blow to her jaw.

Suddenly Sara's world was dipping into an ocean of darkness. The overwhelming urge she felt to just give into the pain and swim away was unlike anything she'd experienced before. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that if she slipped into the beckoning waters, that she would be completely defenseless against him. But as he hit her again and a rainbow of color met the darkness at the edges of her vision, she just stopped caring. Anything to make the pain stop. She tasted her own blood on her lips and though she knew that it should concern her, she was just unable to dredge up the willpower to give a shit. So he killed her. So what? It was better then living as a prisoner for the rest of her life.

She felt herself slipping off the couch and onto the raggedy carpet of the floor. She brought her hands up instinctively to shield her head, but that didn't stop him. One foot made solid contact with her abdomen and then she couldn't breathe. She tried to curl herself into a ball, but found that just moving made the pain worse, made it burn so intensely that it sucked what little breath she had managed to pull into her lungs, back out.

"Stop." She choked out one word, hoping that he'd listen. He'd never been this mad; it had never been as bad as this.

"Damn you!" He kicked her harder this time and she let out a small gasp. When he reached down, grabbing her by her hair, and hauled her to her feet, Sara almost passed out again. He forced her to a seated position on the couch and then let loose a scream that sounded a wild animal. "WHY? WHY? WHY MUST YOU RUIN THINGS? I JUST WANTED TO WATCH A MOVIE WITH YOU! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A BITCH!" With one quick swipe of his hand, he knocked the lamp off the stand beside the couch and the room sank into darkness as the bulb broke.

She heard his footstep as he walked away from her. The muttered curses as he stormed through the house. She felt rather then heard the front door slam as he rushed through it to get outside. Once the rest of the house fell silent, only her sobs were heard echoing through the rooms. And then there was nothing as she slipped into the warm dark solace of unconsciousness.

Sorry this chapter got a little violent...I just needed to remind you that even if he is so infatuated with her, that he is indeed still dangerous. Come on now. Hit that button. It's a strange purple color and it's calling your name. Click it... btw, this is me attempting to hypnotize you and make you LEAVE ME SOME FEEDBACK! I thrive on it! Without it, my muse just might disappear never to return...he likes feedback more then caffiene...which is saying something.