Look to the stars,

Let hope burn in your eyes.

-Muse, Stockholm syndrome

Chapter 3

A quiet knock sounded on the door. Beth took in a deep breath, uncurled her legs from her chest, and turned towards the noise. The handle slowly twisted and the dark haired man, Daryl, walked in wearing the very same leather jacket she had woken up upon.

In his hands, he carried a plate of food. He slowly walked towards her and sat it down on the table in front of her.

"Thought you might be hungry." -his soft raspy voice echoed across the quiet room.

The thought of eating anything he had touched with his hands immediately made her feel sick to her stomach. No doubt plenty must have died by those very two hands, hands that were all but dripping with blood.

"No, I don't want it."

After the words escaped her lips, she feared her statement would anger him, cause him to lash out and possibly hurt her. Her resolve of staying brave was quickly escaping her, her imagination was going wild, and the scared little Beth quickly resurfaced. She bit her lip nervously and looked up at her captor's face, to her complete shock his dark orbs held no anger, in fact she swore she saw a brief flash of guilt.

As if sensing she was staring, he looked directly at her. Beth panicked and immediately looked down to the floor.

"Well, I'll leave it here for you just in case."

She lifted her gaze to his face again and eyed him warily. Why was he being nice? Was he trying to lure her into a sense of false security? Was this all some twisted game?

His voice broke her free from her thoughts.

"I'm sorry for how my brother treated you." -he took a short pause- "But I wouldn't worry about him, he's all bark and no bite."

Ha, yeah right. He didn't seem all bark and no bite when he was pointing a gun to my head. She thought bitterly.

"He won't hurt you." -he continued in a manner that sounded almost uncertain, as if he was trying to convince himself that his own words were truthful.

She couldn't help but voice, her opinion, despite her fear.

"You expect me to believe that?" -she said a little shakily- "you don't even seem to believe it yourself."

He seemed to struggle to find a response. Beth spoke before he could say anything, as a memory flashed across her mind quite suddenly.

"He was going to kill me, but you stopped him." -as she spoke, she unconsciously traced the tender flesh of her forehead- "why?"

His eyes locked on her fingers that still rested upon her forehead and he went as still as a rock.

After moments of silence dragged by, Beth believed he wasn't going to answer, but eventually she heard a barely audible whisper.

"You're innocent."

"Has that ever stopped you before?" -she quickly spat out in anger without thinking.

His whole demeanour changed as fast as a raging storm, his eyes darkened in anger and his hands balled up in fists at his side. Her words had clearly struck a very dangerous chord.

On instinct she brought her arms up to cover her face from any possible hits, her eyes squinted shut in anticipation.

She awaited the blow, but agonizing seconds quickly turned into minutes. Eventually she couldn't take the suspense any longer so she opened her eyes and slightly lowered her arms so that she could see him.

He stood in the very same place as before, his hands were still balled up in fists at his side, and his jaw was tense, but his eyes had lost their crazed look.

"I ain't gonna hit you." -he said sharply-

Daryl walked towards the door.

"And I don't kill the innocent."

As she watched him leave the room, she couldn't help but think one thing.

But you do kill.

After her encounter with Daryl she was left in the room alone once again. As before she was trying to come up with a logical escape plan, but wasn't having much luck with such a task.

Her blather felt as if it were to explode and she could literally think of nothing else.

Beth was terrified to approach the door, but on the other hand, she refused to live through the embarrassment of not being able to find a washroom in time.

Slowly she got up from the chair and walked towards the white wooden door. She twisted the handle and was shocked to see that it was unlocked. She wanted to slap herself for not checking sooner.

But who could have predicted that it would have been unlocked?

Did they really consider her no threat at all?

She held her breath and opened the door a little more so that she could just squeeze herself through.

On the other side of the door was a rundown looking kitchen, she could also see a small hallway that would most likely lead her to a washroom. But her eyes seemed to be glued to the unguarded front door; it was all but mocking her, offering her freedom.

She looked around the room quickly and warily took a step towards the door when neither of her captors came in sight.

Where are Merle and Daryl? Beth questioned nervously. Could they have possibly stepped out, and accidentally forgotten to lock me in? Her wishful thinking sounded naïve, even to her own ears.

Rationally she knew it couldn't be this easy to escape and that maybe this was some kind of trap, but the pull to her freedom became too much. She couldn't help herself, she ran at top speed to the door, completely forgetting about her washroom break. However, just as the tip of her fingers grazed the handle, just as she allowed herself to feel a pang of hope, the door swung open to reveal a grinning Merle.

"Goin' somewhere?" -he mocked-

She tried to reel away from him, but he caught both her wrists, and dragged her deeper into the apartment.

"You didn't actually think it would be that easy, did you?"

She felt tears sting her eyes, because yes, she had been stupid enough to think so, for a few seconds anyways.

He released her wrists and walked over to the front door which was still half open, and slowly closed it and then proceeded to lock it, his mocking grin was still ever present.

"Oh yes, I'm gonna' have to keep a very close eye on you."

After his statement, she came to comprehend that for him, this little stunt had all been some sort of twisted test.

He wanted to see, if she would try to escape, if the opportunity presented itself. Perhaps, he had thought that she would have been too afraid to even consider escape after their last encounter. Now, however, he knew that was not the case. Beth suddenly grasped, that planning a successful escape was going to be that much harder now. But honestly did he expect her to roll over and die? He had another thing coming for him.

After he locked the door, he leaned against it casually, and simply stared at her.

She wrapped her arms around herself protectively, trying not to fidget.

"Is there something you want, sleeping beauty?" -he said after a few moments of silence-

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and slightly nodded.

"I need to use the washroom." -she managed to say in a steady voice-

He pointed towards the hallway.

"Second door to your right."

She quickly made her way towards the hallway, followed his instructions, and closed the bathroom door behind her. Possibly, due to her overly organized habits and her panicked and frantic state, she mentally began to analyse and compare Merle to his brother Daryl. From what she had seen, Merle wasn't as tall as his brother or as bulky, but they shared resemblances in their features. They possessed the same strong jaw line and the same structure of cheek bones, but unlike Daryl, Merle's hair seemed to be lighter despite his very short cut. His eyes were cruel, cold, and controlled. Daryl's eyes were less controlled, more savage in a way but they were not cruel.

She hated both these men with all her heart, but out of the two, already she preferred Daryl. He had never showed open cruelty as Merle, and he did technically save her life. In truth, however, she did not know either of these two men or their real motives. Daryl had said that he had saved (no sparred seemed like a much more appropriate term) her because she was "innocent" but how was she supposed to know what he said was true? Maybe Daryl was, in reality, far worse than his older brother.

Merle displayed his cruelty openly, Daryl seemed to be more reserved, but perhaps when he lost his temper, he would surpass Merle's cruelty immensely. Beth remembered when he had almost lost his temper earlier today, and shuttered in fear. Yes, she decided, both of these men were equally evil in her eyes.

Slowly, she blinked back into focus, and came back to her present predicament.

She hurriedly did her business on the toilet, washed her hands, and afterwards leaned against the sink. She regarded herself in the small cracked mirror that was hung directly in front of her, slightly cringing as she saw her own reflection. Her pony tail was completely ragged, her light blue eyes were bloodshot red from crying, and the left side of her forehead was mildly bruised. She closed her eyes, and took in a few calming breaths.

When she opened them again, a red dot on her shirt caught her attention. She looked down to the sleeve of her left shoulder and suppressed a terrified scream when she realized what exactly the red stain was.

Blood, and it wasn't her own.

It must have come from the dead man she had seen in the alleyway. The man that Merle and Daryl must have killed. She didn't even want to think about how it had gotten on her shirt, that thought alone made her want to heave.

Slowly, without even her own permission, her body sank down to the grown.

She had witnessed a murder.

She should have realized such a thing the moment she had awoken in this strange apartment. Perhaps in the back of her mind, she had known, but her shock had prevented her from really putting all things together.

All her thoughts had centered on ways to escape, ways to get the hell out of here, to go back to her old life. She had been consumed with thoughts of escape, but now one thing became very clear.

She could never get back to her old life. She had witnessed a murder! She knew too much, they wouldn't be keeping her alive for very long. She had thought she had a good chance of making it through this mess and getting back to her happy little life, but their own necks were on the line.

As soon as she was free she was going to report them to the police.

They knew this, so they were going to kill her, because the dead told no tales.

She frantically began to scan the small bathroom, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, but all drawers were completely bare. Everything had been cleared out.

To make matters worse (if that was possible), the bathroom didn't even have a small window. There was no hope in a possible escape. She felt as if death awaited her on the other side of this room, it probably did.

She dug her nails into her palm, and bit her bottom lip in anger.

Why would they bring her here? They obviously could never let her roam free again. Even if she was innocent as Daryl had said, why make her a prisoner? Surely death was a far kinder fate.

As soon as she released her bottom lip, a sob escaped her mouth.

What did they want from her?

She quickly wiped away the few tears that dared to escape and stood up to begin pacing the room.

She would not, could no longer sit by waiting for her own death. The faster they could get rid of her, the faster they would be in the green. She probably wasn't going to live passed today, but she wouldn't go down without a fight.

In a moment of courage, or perhaps hysteria, Beth opened the bathroom door and began marching down the hall.

If she were to die, she would first get answers.

Let me know what you think!

Thank you to GeorgieGirl75 , Reignashii , Joise , and StrangersAngel for your reviews!