Flower in the Dark

Her sharp intake of breath provides the perfect opportunity for me to cover her mouth and nose with the cloth, and seconds later, she is limp in my arms.

I bend down with her cradled to me, reaching in her bag where I pluck her keys out and slide her into the back seat of her shitty little car. Seriously, why the fuck does she drive this piece of crap? I know she can afford a better car than this.

Making sure to grab her bag, and checking to make sure nothing is left behind, I start the car and drive to the house, my home, and now Violet’s new home.

I look behind me at her unconscious form on the back seat and smirk, Violet, I can’t wait to finally meet you, in every way I possibly can. I will have everything you can possibly give, and I will take even more. Just you wait.

5

Violet

“Owww, my head,” I mumble as I struggle to sit up, squinting and trying to bring the room into focus. How much of that vodka did I drink last night?

It takes several minutes for the room to stop spinning, and for me to realize that I don’t know this place. Terror shoots down my spine, and I want to go back to sleep, and hopefully wake up in my own bed. I pinch my eyes shut, then slowly open them again.

I want to cry as I take in my surroundings: the dusty floor, the peeling wallpaper, and boarded up windows that only a few cracks of light peek through. Then the worn bed I am laying on that is covered with only a thin blanket that I recognize as being one from my cupboard at home. What the fuck?

That’s the moment I realize this isn’t some random abduction, and whoever has taken me must have followed me, possibly even stalked me and been inside my space. I feel violated by the knowledge that someone had been that close. What if they had been there while I was? I shudder and fight the sobs building in my chest, but one erupts, and the rest follow. I weep freely for an unknown amount of time until my eyes a

re sore, and the familiar blanket I clutch for comfort is soaked in my tears.

The light slowly fades until the room is in near darkness when I hear something. Consumed with my fear and sorrow, I hadn’t even bothered to explore the room fully; I hadn’t even tried the door. Although from the sounds outside the room: a bolt being slid across, and a key being turned, it would have been a wasted effort. The door opens slowly, age and dampness probably having warped the wood so it scrapes across the floor slightly near the frame before creaking as it is opened fully.

A dark figure stands in the doorway. I can’t make out any features in the poor light. I throw the blanket off of me and try to break past him, but he grabs my shoulders, gripping me to the point of pain.

“Let me GO!” I shriek and then try to slap him. “I’ve had enough of this game!”

He blocks my swing but doesn’t acknowledge my demand, just shoves me backward towards the bed. I stumble, off balance from still being groggy and the force he used. I land in a heap on the floor and try to crab-crawl away as he approaches.

Now we are a little closer to the windows, the dim light still trying to break through illuminates him slightly. He’s tall, a lot taller than me, maybe six feet to my five-two, with smooth, toned arms, and dark hair that hangs in his face. Even squinting I can’t make out much more than that.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” I sob out, shrinking even further away until I hit the bed frame behind me.

He crouches down and leans towards me, his scent infusing the air around me with an earthy musk, like a garden after it rains. I whimper in fear, and I can almost sense the smirk on his face at my reaction to him.

After a long pause, during which he simply watches me as I shake in front of him, he finally speaks, “I want you.”

6

Him

I inhale her sweet, floral scent as I lean in even closer, enjoying her reaction. She smells like honeysuckle, lavender, and fear, a potent combination that has me salivating for a taste. She’s shaking with pure terror, and it is so, so sweet. A small tear leaks out and trickles slowly down her flushed cheeks. She doesn’t know who I am. Where she is or why she’s here. She will know soon, but not yet, not before I’ve had my fun and extracted every ounce I can from her.

I catch the tear on my finger and bring it to my lips, tasting her. I rasp out, “I can’t wait to taste you, your skin, your body, and every single one of your tears. It all belongs to me, and I will have it.”

She exhales sharply, a small gasp escaping. She looks directly at me, her eyes wide and reflective, showing every little piece of her that hides away from prying eyes.

I stand up and turn to leave the room.

“Please,” she begs quietly.

I ignore her and continue to move away from where she lies on the floor, not even turning to acknowledge her. I shut and lock the door behind me as she screams out.

“Pleeease!”

My face twists but I know she can’t see my expression. Keep begging little flower, I love that word coming from your lips.

I watch her on the computer screen; the cameras I installed before bringing her here are working perfectly. I can see and hear everything in her room, and around the house. She continues to cry for a while longer before passing out from fatigue and stress. While she sleeps, I slip some bottles of water and packet of sandwiches into her room, before returning to mine for some rest.