A/N: Ok all you fellow fanfic writer and readers, I need a new Title name for this Story, so sometime in later chapters or next few, I will be changing it, (mostly because to me it sounds bland and generic) Anyway enjoy the new chapter, let me know what you all think.
Chapter 2
20:40:32.
Almost two hours had passed.
My mysterious roommate had spent the time to rummage through the room multiply times. He had found the bathroom, behind the second door, with nothing but a toilet ad toilet paper, and no window. All twelve drawers on the cabinet, were indeed locked. He had moved all the movable furniture, took apart the bed I was sitting on, and all the book on the bookshelf were scattered on the floor. For the last twenty, he had been on the floor, looking through every single page, of each book.
I was curled up on the couch, half asleep, mostly of boredom. I was just waiting, and watching. Honestly, I didn't want to make this guy mad. After all, it was just me and him for the next twenty hours. Who knew what was going to happen, after that. I needed to stay out of his way and stay on his good side. He knew what was going on, and I wanted his help, in getting out of here and back home. I watched him with mild curiosity. The fear from two hours ago, gone now since he had started searching through the room. He was a still nameless to me. He had yet to offer his name. 'Should I ask?'
"So, um, do you got a name?" I asked, my curiosity winning over my nervousness. My eyes, flickered to the clock, out of habit now.
20:22:04.
"Masky, He answered, his tone clipped. He was engrossed in what he was doing.
Masky? Who names their kid Masky? This guy/Masky, was obviously not going to give me his real name. This kind of pissed me off. I decided to ignore, the fake name, after all he probably had his reasons. "So, what are you doing, exactly?" I was bored, and I was curious.
He looked up at me, with that same annoyed expression. His eyes seemed to roll over to the two way mirror. He stared at it. "You know what I'm doing." He seemed to be talking to whoever was watching us, than to me.
I glanced between the mirror and him. This guy, has to know something I didn't, and if Masky wasn't going to tell me. I can at least assist in whatever he was doing. "Do you want help?" I asked sitting up.
This time he looked at me with a bored, and only a slightly annoyed expression, this time. After a few moments, he looked at me with a different expression all of a sudden. His brow knitted together, as he cocked his head to the side. He looked to the mirror, then back to me, pinning me with a glare.
'Shit!' Did he think I was in on all this?! "Whatever your thinking of doing….don't." I said, putting my hands out in front of me in a 'I mean no harm,' gesture. My fear had resurfaced, and was telling me to get out. But I couldn't, I was trapped in this room. The bathroom had no lock so it would be useless to run in there.
My eyes flicked to the clock again. I was suddenly wishing it would hurry up and finish counting down, right now. 22:10:18.
The moment my eyes left him, Masky was on me in an instant, shoving me down on the couch. He manage to position himself on my stomach, wrapping his hands around my neck, faster than what I thought possible, choking me. His eyes were dark and intense as I struggled to breathe.
I kicked, and coughed, as I tried to somehow throw him off of me. I threw punches, and struggled, I even tried to scratch at his hands. The whole time, he didn't even budge, almost like my efforts didn't make a difference. He was stronger than me.
His grip was getting tighter, cutting off my airways. I could feel my movements start to slow, and my eyes rolling back into my head. Masky turned his head toward the mirror again. "Is this what you want?" He shouted, his grip tightened even more than before.
I couldn't go out like this. I started thrashing around violently again, trying once more to dislodge him. I refuse to die, like this. 'C'mon Levi, fight! Fight!' I chanted to myself. As I struggle with renewed vigor, I absentmindedly felt the couch cushion shift off the couch. We both tumbled to the floor. During the fall, the landing dislodged Masky's grip from my throat.
I rolled over, holding myself up on my hands and knees, heaving through coughs. Trying to suck in much needed oxygen to my lungs. Once I got my breath back, I redirected my attention back to Mask, who despite what just happened looked distracted, but I didn't care. "What is wrong with you?!" I shouted, as I shoved him, trying to get him further away from me, my anger fueling me for the moment. "What the hell did I ever do to you?!" I raised my hand to return the favor, and punch him in his stupid face.
Masky caught my fist, just as I was about to land a solid punch, without even looking. I felt myself stiffen. 'How the hell….?!' In the back of my head I silently noted that, I would never when in a fight with this guy.
Masky lifted and pointed a finger to the couch, with his free hand.
I followed, his gaze instantly. There under the cushion that was knocked off, was a ring of keys.
Masky let go of my fist, and grabbed the keys. I looked at them as he examined them. They were numbered, and there were twelve of them.
My mood swiftly shifted to curiosity, for the moment forgetting our slight tussle., and pushed him toward the cabinet. We emptied the entire cabinet, laying the contents in between us. We sat across from each other going over everything. Silently, I group the items by the order of drawers.
Drawer 1: forty eight granola bars.
Drawer 2: six water bottles.
Drawer 3: marvel t-shirt, bluejeans, and black converse. (the clothes I remember wearing last.)
Drawer 4: one tan jacket, black jeans, black t-shirt, and black boots.
Drawer 5: four blankets.
Drawer 6: three packs of cards.
Drawer 7: two packs of cigarettes and four packs of matches.
Drawer 8: two needles and one bottle of anesthesia.
Drawer 9: two knives.
Drawer 10: two hammers.
Drawer 11: one pair of handcuffs.
Drawer 12: an assortment of key-cards.
We both sat there in silence. I was thinking over what all these items represented, what they meant, and how they related to the people behind the mirror. 'Why would they give us weapons?' The situation was literally not looking good from my point of view.
TBC
