The Needs of One

At first, she wasn't sure if her eyes were open or not. All she could see was darkness, solid black all around. Her arm felt like lead as she tried to reach out in front of her, but she didn't need to go far anyway—only inches from her face, her hand slammed into solid metal with a faint thud. Her head swam like she's been drinking and her mouth and throat were bone-dry. It wasn't the first time she had woken to this feeling; it was disturbingly familiar, actually.

Placing her hand flat against the surface above her, she frowned into the darkness as she tried to think about what had happened. She was at Claire's annoying excuse for a party, the yells and laughter of the teenagers causing her head to throb. She and John had been at the back of the car, loading the presents and food into the trunk—no.

There was food across the concrete. Someone had made a mess and spilled the food. The blued eye man, with the small can of chloroform. Sugar and chemicals. Exhaling sharply through her nose, as though trying to remove the remnants of the chemical on her skin and in her airways, Adelais let her hand fall from the lid of the trunk and closed her eyes.

She was in the trunk of the car.

Perfect.

Did he kill John? The girls?

They had all already been in the car, waiting. Had they realized what was happening and ran?

Cowards.

"Shut up," Adelais ordered in a groggy whisper, her voice sounding forced and raw. Opening her hands again, she reached up and wiped around her mouth and nose, the residue of the chloroform irritating her nose. Trying to move her legs when her back gave a twinge of discomfort proved that she was folded tightly into the small space.

The realization that she could barely move caused her heartrate to increase drastically, her once shaking breaths growing shallow and raspy. All she could smell was sugar and chemicals, all she could see was thick blackness, and all she could feel was the scratchy felt beneath her back and the encasing metal all around her. Trying to even her breaths, her legs kicked out instinctively—as though her subconscious mind figured they could kick away the obstructing walls.

Before she could descend into a full-blown panic-attack, the trunk opened abruptly. Fresh air breezed in through the new opening and Adelais lunged up on instinct, gasping for air at a dangerous rate as her hands scrambled at the boot of the car.

Hands grabbed her upper arms in an iron grip, the presence of the man having gone completely unnoticed in her haze of panic, and hauled her out of the trunk with terrifying strength. Her knees slammed into the metal, drawing a yelp of pain to burst from her throat, her hands snatching at his arms to try and relieve some of his grip. When her feet hit the ground, she wobbled in place at the off-balance feeling from landing on the small heels she was forced to wear.

Don't touch. Don't touch. Don't touch.

The hands on her arms spun her around, facing the trunk of the car, before a strip of cloth was pulled over her eyes to block out the blurry view that she hadn't even been focusing on. Her breathing was steadily evening out now that she was no longer crammed into the trunk; however, the sudden removal of her sights caused her breath to hitch with a new wave of panic.

Without even thinking on it, she tried to reach up for the cloth that had blinded her. Those same hands stopped her before her fingertips had even neared her face; they wrapped around her wrists like shackles and pulled her arms down across her chest, like an X, to prevent her from moving again. "Don't," he said suddenly, his voice surprisingly deep. She could feel the vibration of the word in his chest, pressed up against her back as it was.

You won't move, you won't speak—you won't even look, understand?

Yes, Mother.

Controlling her breathing and trying to keep herself as still as possible, Adelais did her best to ignore the sound of her mother's voice in her head, following by her own familiar thoughts. Do as you're told. Her breath shuddered for just a moment, the beginning of a headache returning to her temples as she felt her body being turned and the man gently press his shoulder against hers, almost as though he was nudging her forward. Do as you're told and you might be safe. Stepping forward as he had silently directed, she left him guide her away from the car and into the unknown that he had blocked from her sights.

She was led for many paces before they arrived at a set of stairs; his voice was in her ear as he told her how many steps to count before she was on flat ground again. She dutifully descended, his arms ever present around her as he continued to hold her wrists. Don't fight him, she knew better. Walking with him, feeling when his feet or legs wound bump the backs of hers, she made no sound or sudden movement to set him off.

You can think you're perfect, but she'll always find a flaw.

She drew to a jerky halt when "stop" was suddenly uttered in her ear. Remaining frozen, one foot ready to leave the ground for another step, Adelais forced herself to keep breathing as she waited. It smelled stale and musty wherever they were, like a basement. Their footsteps had echoed faintly as they were walking, the hard feel of concrete beneath her feet. Where was she?

"Don't move," he ordered, waiting a moment before he retracted his hands and released Adelais's wrists. Even though they weren't bound in place, she made sure to keep her arms crossed at her chest and her body as still as possible. As she remained perfectly still, she felt him move around her, the sound of his breathing and his footsteps the only hint to tell her where he was. She nearly jumped when she felt his hands near her shoulders, undoing her scarf and lifting it from around her neck and shoulders. The high collar of her sweater helped to cover her neck, keeping her from feeling bare.

However, no longer having the thick layer still left her feeling more exposed than before.

"Keep your eyes closed," he directed next. The blindfold was pulled from her hair, loosening and messing up her braid more than before, and the man let out what sounded like an annoyed exhale. She couldn't repress her flinch when his hands were suddenly in her hair, pulling out the tie from the bottom before he pried out every last bobby pin that had kept the style in place. Adelais's breathing trembled in place of her frozen body as his fingers glided through her hair in search of any other pins, pulling out the style so her hair fell in waves along her shoulders.

He was…gentle.

The way that he was careful not to pull her hair, removing the pins with a surprising tenderness, left her confused and afraid. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop—the moment that would upset him and lead to her being struck.

But it never came.

He replaced the blindfold over her eyes for a second time and stepped behind her, taking hold of her wrists. The nudge to her shoulder came again and she dutifully resumed her pace forward, turning whichever way he directed. When he released her again, it was only with one hand as the sound of jingling keys came before the click of a lock.

The room they stepped into was warmer than the previous one, and she could see light penetrating through her blindfold and closed eyelids. He changed his hold on her in that moment, taking both of her wrists in his one hand, startling her with just how large it was, and used the other to unlock another door just before them. He was still standing just before her, his breath at the back of her head, as he opened the second door and pushed at her shoulder to force her inside.

He walked her about five paces into the room before he stopped and released her wrists, snatching the blindfold from her face. The abrupt, jerky actions had her flinching in fear, expecting a strike to come next, but she could only hear his footsteps as he left the room and closed the door behind him. The click of the lock falling into place had her exhaling and trembling in place as she finally opened her eyes.

"Adelais!" Claire whispered in shock before she rose from the cot she and Marcia were sitting on to rush up to her, hands extended out toward her older cousin. The woman flinched, however, and looked around with jerky movements. Two beds and a small, pristine white bathroom to her left made up the only things she could notice at first glance. Casey sat in her bed by herself, knees drawn in toward her chest as she watched Adelais spin around to stare at the door she had been pushed through.

At least it wasn't the trunk.

"Adelais, where's my dad? Did you see my dad?" Claire was questioning, walking around the woman to try and get her to focus. Adelais flinched again, leaning away from Claire as her eyes narrowed. Her head was beginning to hurt terribly.

Turning again, once more facing the cots, Adelais's face was tense with concentration. The green was not nearly as dull as it had appeared before, taking in every detail that she could find throughout the room. It was clean, and put together with precision. Clean, clean, clean.

Claire's voice rose in volume. "Adelais! What happened to my dad?"

Spinning to Claire, Casey could have sworn a snarl had marred the older woman's face for a split second. "I don't know!" Her yell caused the other three to flinch, Claire stepping back from her cousin's abrupt loss of temper. But then she closed her eyes and took a couple of breaths, something Casey had seen her do several times during Claire's party. When she spoke again, her tone was low and calm—controlled, "he was lying on the ground last I saw him, I think he was only unconscious."

"Maybe that man brought him, too?" Marcia suggested, looking uneasily between Adelais and the door behind her. Waiting for the man to show up again.

Claire nodded in agreement, pacing back toward the bed as she lowered her voice to a whisper. "That's right. Maybe he was put in the trunk or something?" Adelais flinched at the word, remembering the tight, constricting feeling of the small space. Casey noticed her action and frowned, watching as Adelais stepped over to the small section of wall next to the bathroom door, leaning against it as her arms wrapped around her torso. "Maybe he's here somewhere!"

"He wasn't in the trunk," Adelais interrupted quietly, only heard because of the quiet tones that Claire was speaking in.

"What?"

However, the older blonde said nothing more. Casey frowned a moment more before realization hit her abruptly. "Adelais was in the trunk," she answered for her, causing Claire and Marcia's eyes to widen as they looked to Adelais again, this time taking in the defensive way she was standing. It was very similar to how Casey was curling in on herself on the bed, trying to appear as small and unnoticeable as possible. "Weren't you?"

Green eyes met with dark brown, holding the young teenager's gaze for a moment before she gave the faintest nod. "I was in the trunk," she admitted in the softest whisper.

Silence fell over the three of them as Claire resumed her seat next to Marcia, the two girls grabbing a hold of one another as they looked timidly at the floor. They'd been in the car and then woken up in this room; Adelais had woken up stuffed in a trunk, probably crammed to capacity and entirely disoriented.

The distinct sound of a door closing caused them all to turn toward their only exit. The rattling of keys soon followed, closer and more distinct. Casey drew her knees closer to her chest, making herself smaller as Adelais stepped back until her heel knocked against the wall. The door opened to reveal the man from before, still dressed in greys with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Adelais remained perfectly still as he looked over each of them.

He was holding a chair, a foldup wooden chair. Her eyes darted along his form, trying to find something that could give her information. He was frighteningly clean, so well put together, that it reminded her of her mother's perfectionist ways. However, that meant that he held no clues on his person. He was cleverly masked behind a visage of grey and cleanly groomed mannerisms.

He left the door open and unfolded the chair before placing it in front of their only escape, centered between the two beds.

Adelais's eyes narrowed when he suddenly pulled out a yellow cloth, using it to meticulously wipe the seat of the chair to remove anything that might linger on its surface. Germophobe? OCD? He neatly folded the cloth up again and returned it to his pocket while stepping in front of the chair. Five-seven? No, closer to five-nine. Not dominantly tall, but stronger than physical appearance may suggest.

She tried not to think about that strength when he was pulling her from the trunk.

Sitting down and crossing his arms, the man said nothing. He looked between the four of them, just looked. Adelais was pressed against the wall, arms relaxed at her sides as her body automatically returned to the instincts of her mother's orders. Under inspection. His eyes went to Casey, curled in on herself with her head ducked low so as not to be properly seen. Marcia and Claire were breathing audibly, shakily, as he looked to them next. Marcia looked away, unable to keep eye contact, and leaned in closer to Claire. As discretely as possible, she tried to pull her short black skirt lower on her thigh.

Idiot. Shouldn't have moved.

The man rose from the chair, pointing to Marcia. "I choose you first," he stated plainly before he picked up the chair and folded it again, taking it out into the larger room. The man returned and stepped toward Marcia, who was now desperately clinging to Claire.

He seemed to hesitate a moment before actually coming in contact with Marcia, but then he reached out with reflexes fast enough to surprise Adelais and Casey. Marcia was torn from Claire's grasp, issuing screams from both girls that caused Adelais to flinch. Marcia wiggled and struggled furiously in his hold, still screaming and beginning to cry in panic and fear.

Adelais lunged forward when she broke from his grip, grabbing a hold of Marcia and almost tossing her backward into Casey as the man advanced again. Casey caught Marcia and began whispering furiously in a low tone, too quiet for Adelais to hear as she felt the man's hand grab her arm instead. He glared down at her for a moment, blue eyes critical and calculating, before he swung her around and tossed her in Claire's direction. Throwing a hand out to stop herself from rolling off the cot, she was righted in time to see him carry Marcia from the room, screaming and kicking. She was able to land a slap against his face before he tossed her further into the other room and turned back to pull the door closed.

Claire grabbed at the material of Adelais's sweater, tugging on it in desperate fear as Adelais herself was left heaving for air. He had thrown her.

He barely had a grip on her arm and he has tossed her like she wasn't only an inch shorter than him.

Marcia's voice reached through the door, her words desperate as she begged out 'no' repeatedly. Rising from the bed in a rush, Adelais felt her muscles trembling in reaction to the other girl's broken pleas. Claire rushed up after her, darting passed Adelais to begin banging on the door furiously. Marcia's voice grew louder as she began screaming. Casey sat on her cot, silent and frozen.

"Open the door!" Claire shrieked, continuing to bang on the metal and wood with clenched fists.

Claire was forced to stumble back when the door was pushed open again, knocking her backward as Marcia was ushered back into the room. The man was holding her wrists crossed over her chest, just as he had done with Adelais, and walked her further into the room before he abruptly dropped her and recoiled with what sounded like a with-held shout.

He didn't end up saying a thing more, just grabbed the door and pulled it closed with a resounding bang. The lock nearly immediately clicked back into place.

Marcia's sobs were the only sound in the room, drawing Adelais to turn around. As she did so, a strong, distinct smell overcame her senses. She frowned deeply and looked down to Marcia, who was being supported by Claire. Her legs were wet with liquid as she stumbled to a standing position, tugging on her skirt again. "He wanted me to dance for him," she explained shakily while pulling away from Claire and heading for the bathroom. "And the outside door's locked."

As Claire gasped out self-reassurances—all of which Adelais knew were false—she went to help Marcia and left Adelais alone with Casey. Green eyes fell on the girl, distraught and silent as she stared at the far wall with a blank look. She'd whispered something to Marcia. She'd told her what to do. Adelais watched as Casey began to breathe faster, a tear escaping to slide down her cheek.

A victim always knows.

Knowing better than to try and speak with her, Adelais turned her back to let Casey collect herself and approached the locked door on silent feet. Crouching in front of the door's crease, she leaned in close enough to try and see through—to try and see the room beyond. However, while she could tell that the man was not in direct view, the line of sight was awkward and distorted. Offering nothing for her.

"Can you see anything?" Claire asked suddenly, standing in the doorway of the bathroom as Marcia pulled off her stockings and tried desperately to clean her legs.

"Nothing that will help," she answered quietly, not wanting to draw his attention if he returned. Standing again, she moved to lean against the wall that sat opposite the door, between the two cots. "Two locked doors that we know about and only god knows how many more; several sets of stairs and a hell of a lot of turns."

"How do you know that?" Marcia asked from the doorway to the bathroom; her stockings and pantyhose had been removed and Adelais could only assume she had washed them and hung them to dry somewhere.

Adelais shifted position so that she was no longer standing but instead crouched to the floor with her back against the stone wall behind her. "He may have blindfolded me, but I walked the entire way down to this room from the car. I don't even remember how many times I turned what way, or at which time. Wherever we are, it's big and it's underground."

Claire fell to sit on the edge of the bed with a long sigh, letting her head fall into her hands as she did so. "So what now?"

Being the oldest of the four, the other three girls turned their eyes to Adelais. "You think I know the secret to escaping abduction?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes. "All I can offer is to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible and maybe he won't pick you. Marcia, don't draw attention to your skirt and thighs again. As soon as your stockings dry, go put them on. The least skin you can show, the better."

"So let him pick someone else?" Claire demanded in disbelief.

"It's human instinct; you'll hate yourself for it, but if you're spared by someone else taking your place then you'll be grateful."