Idnapped

This story takes some build up, my next chapter will be when it gets sexy...

I wake up, and the first thing I hear is... dripping. Like rain against a metal bucket, but a little slower.

Then the smell hits me. An awkward combination of moss and cologne. I can't tell if I like it or not.

I nod in and out of consciousness, only realizing I'm in trouble when I hear footsteps coming down concrete stairs. Waking up more steadily now, I get a feel for my surroundings.

I open my eyes, but it's too dark to see; there's something covering them. I try to reach up but my arms can't rise any farther than my waist. I tug a few times, but it's no use. They're tied down.

I wiggle in my seat, causing the wood to creak quietly. It must be an older chair. My feet touch the ground, but barely.

The steps stop descending and are now coming toward me. I try to let out a sound, but there's something in my mouth. It feels like strips that were cut from a bedsheet are wrapped around my head.

My clothes feel heavy and my hair is sticking to my face. I feel a few tears run down my face from fear.

I can't remember why I'm here, or even where 'here' is.

I hear a light flicker on. Whatever is covering my eyes isn't opaque enough to block out everything. I see light that's been tinted with color, like how your eyelids look when you shut them and look into the sun, but the yellow is replaced by a dark blue.

"Well, hello. I see you're awake," says a familiar voice. He has a slight accent, maybe Russian. I can't tell for sure. He laughs quietly, and it clicks.

The last thing I remember is hearing that same voice tell me I left my keys in the bar I was at. I had had a bit too much to drink, and I was about to call an Uber. I had turned around to thank him but before I could, he knocked me out. I can feel a little bit of a headache coming on.

He clears his throat, "Do I not get any acknowledgment?" he asks impatiently.

I raise my head slightly, trying to make it seem like I'm weaker than I really am. Maybe I'll be able to outsmart him if I just keep calm and act vulnerable.

"There it is. Good girl. You know, I waited a long time to get you alone. You are normally so careful... I guess that's why you were so appealing. Like a challenge of sorts. You are so beautiful, though... it was worth the wait," the man explains.

I try to speak, but the fabric between my lips muffles my voice. I feel a hand touch my cheek and I flinch, pulling away quickly. He waits for me to calm down, then touches my cheek again. He reaches back to untie my blindfold and I blink in the bright light.

He's wearing a ski mask, so I can't see his face. I'm disappointed; I thought maybe when I escape, I could tell the police what he looks like. I see him smile through the mouth hole as he unties the fabric that's keeping me from talking. He puts a gloved finger to his lips.

"Don't scream, otherwise I'll have to do something to shut you up," he pulls away, "You can speak now."

"What do you want?" my voice croaks.

"I want you, darling. That's all," he pulls a chair close so he's sitting across from me, our knees almost touching.

"My parents have money, I'm sure they'll pay any ransom you want. I can give you my mom's number and you can call her. Her number is 278-"

"No, I don't think you understand. I don't want any money. I want you, Tiffany," he cuts me off.

"You... want me? What does that-"

"What does that mean?" he cuts me off again, "It means I want to be with you. I've seen who you date and I've seen how you live. I know your parents don't have any money because I know everything about you. Everything you've done for the past four months I have logged. I knew that your dog was probably missing you, so I brought him here. He's a really friendly retriever, by the way."

"You have Copper! Is he okay? Oh, God. You're a fucking psychopath!" I yell.

"Keep your fucking voice down!" he yells back.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Is Copper okay?" I ask urgently.

"He's fine. I'm not a monster, I would never hurt a dog..." he scoots a little closer, our knees making contact.

"But you'd hurt a person?" I ask, my voice coming out in a whisper.

"If the person tried to come between us, yes. But I'd never hurt you," he reaches his hand to brush the hair out of my face. I look down to see that I'm tied up with the same type of sheet strips as what he gagged me with.

"But you did hurt me. You knocked me out..." I start.

"Well, I only did it to get you here. So you can see I'm so much better for you."

I hear the front door open and close above us. I look at him with wide eyes and he shakes his head. He knows I won't scream...

"Hey, Tim! Where are you?" another male voice calls.

"I'll be right up!" he calls back.

"You should probably go see what he needs before he comes down here," I smirk.

"Stay still and be quiet. I'll bring some food and water down in a bit. If you're good, maybe I'll let you have some," he says, then heads up the stairs, "I'll even leave the light on for you."

He walks up the stairs then shuts the door quietly. I hear a lock click and feel my heart sink.

I quickly get into my calm headspace. Somewhere I only go when I need to figure something out that's really tricky. And I'd say this situation fits that category.

I take in my surroundings, a little more in-depth this time. There's one window opposite of me and it's opened slightly. I could try to get over to it, but it might make too much noise. I don't want him coming down here to try to shut me up.

I look to my left and see a kennel that's partially covered by a blanket.

"Copper?" I whisper. No answer.

"Copper?" I ask a little louder. I hear a rustle in some blankets and see his beautiful face pop out from behind the cover.

"Oh, Copper. I'm so glad you're safe. Sit," he listens, "Lay down," he does as he's told, "Stay, no bark," he tilts his head slightly, then lays his head down on his outstretched paws.

I hear the man who kidnapped me, Tim is what his roommate called him, walking back towards the basement door.

"Tiffany, I brought you some water and food," he says quietly as the door shuts behind him.

"Thank you," I choke out. I didn't realize how hungry I am, but after smelling the chicken he's made I know I'm starving.

"You're quite welcome," he smiles. That's when I notice... he doesn't have his mask on anymore. According to every crime show I've ever watched, that means he's either planning on keeping me or killing me. I sincerely hope it's the former.

I smile back, trying not to show that I'm logging every significant mark on his face in my memory for when I escape.

He's very handsome, someone I might've dated before I knew what he was capable of. He has dark hair that flops around slightly and piercingly blue eyes. He's tall and well built. There's a small scar underneath his left eye that's shaped like a candy cane. He's pale with thin but very pink lips.

"How am I going to eat it?" I ask, motioning to my bound hands. He contemplates for a minute.

"I'll untie you and watch you eat, then tie you back up again," he pauses to lift up his shirt to show the gun he has tucked in his belt, "Don't try to run, okay?" he smirks. I force myself to swallow and keep my mouth from dropping. I feel my chin quiver slightly from fear.

"I won't," I reply quietly. He unties my hands and gives me the plate of chicken and mashed potatoes, then sets down a glass of water by my side.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his face hopeful as I take my first bite.

"Delicious, thank you," I say before eating faster than I ever have before. He smiles and waits for me to finish.

After I've finished, he takes away the dishes and ties my hands back up just like he said he would.

"What if I need to..." I clear my throat, "Use the restroom?" I ask awkwardly.

"Oh, well I'll escort you," he replies.

"Escort me? You won't watch me, will you?" I ask, somehow more uncomfortable than before.

"Hmm, depends on how good you are for me until then. You don't have to go right now, do you?" He asks. I shake my head.

"What's your plan?" I ask, trying to pass the time and keep him from hurting me. Maybe if I talk to him like a friend, he'll be gentle.

"Plan? With you?" I nod my head, "Well, I plan to have you tied up here until I see for sure that you won't run. Of course, you'll be allowed to get up and walk around once or twice daily until then. After that... well, I'll save that for later," he smiles.

"That sounds like a good plan," I pause, looking for something to say, "What do you do for a living?" I ask. He hesitates, not knowing if he should be giving out so much information to me in case I escape.

"I'm self-employed," he says simply.

"Have you ever killed anyone, Tim?" I ask. He shoots me a panicked look, wondering how I know his name.

"How..."

"How do I know your name? Don't you remember when your roommate came through the door and called for you?" I ask, holding back a smirk. He's learning how observant I am. I probably shouldn't give away my secrets, but he's just too cocky for me.

"Doesn't matter. I know you'll be moaning it here soon," he chuckles.

"The hell I will," I mutter. He smirks and reaches for a bag he brought with him.

"Let me guess, you're going to condition me with sex toys to fall in love with you? Or maybe you're going to torture me until my Stockholm Syndrome has kicked in?"

"Neither, actually. I'm hurt that you'd think I'd be so cliche."

"Then what do you have there?"

"Oh, so you're curious? Well, I have some new things for you to wear."

"Lingerie?"

"No, better..." he pulls out a pair of hand and ankle cuffs and I smile. I'm going to try the tactic of liking it until I find a chance to escape.

"Mmm, that is better," I say with excitement.

"You're already excited? Perfect. It won't be long until you're begging for me to fuck you."

"What if I begged now? Would you?"

"Nice try. Good things come to those who wait. And we're waiting at least a few days. You have only just met me, and I know you're not the type to just fuck a guy right after you meet them. I know you, Tiffany."

"Yeah, right..." I think to myself.