6. Trust
Trust
A pounding headache throbbed against my temples. I squeezed my eyelids against the light seeping through. Had I overslept? What time was my alarm supposed to go off again? My mind blanked on when I set it last night before bed. Had the batteries run out? I recalled the power outage and groaned.
The note on my countertop flashed through my mind. I swallowed hard, the dull pain in my neck reminding me of what happened. My pulse quickened, and I sat up. Everything spun, and I pushed my hands against my face. A chain rattled, and I peeked from behind my fingers to the side.
Handcuffed to a chain.
Chained to a wall.
I let out a shaky breath as I pushed through the nausea.
This had to be a nightmare. Yet as I stared down, the cot I’d been lying on was definitely not my bed.
Before I wrapped my mind around the situation, the door opened, and a masked man walked in.
I pressed my back against the wall, doing my best not to show fear.
It had been one thing to see this man from behind the safety of some doors or through a video camera.
Even looking through old photos of crime scenes he’d left behind.
With him standing there, looming over me with the threat of the violence he could inflict, I had trouble breathing.
He grabbed a chair that stood in the corner of the room and dragged it in front of me.
I stared around, but apart from the cot and chair, the room was empty.
Without a word, he sat, and despite not being able to see his eyes, he was definitely staring at me.
He pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it, and held it up for me to see.
“I found an interesting message in your bag,” he said in a low hum, the mask muffling his voice, but it was deep. The way I remembered it.
If you kill me, all my research gets sent to the police automatically. Please talk to me first.
My shoulders relaxed a little. Good. He’d gotten my note before he decided to do something drastic. Like murder me.
“I don’t usually take orders, but you wrote down please , so I indulged...” He leaned forward a bit. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the dryness threatened to choke me. After a few seconds of silence, he put the paper back into his jacket pocket, the black material catching the light hanging overhead for a split second.
“I have... a proposition,” I muttered, my voice wavering. How many times had I recited my speech in my mind? Out loud in the shower? “I’m doing a final report for my master’s, and I want to interview you about your life and what you do.”
He cocked his head, and a shiver ran down my spine as he seemed to take me in for the first time. “And why would I agree to that?”
“Because you’d be able to talk to someone about the people you’ve killed and will kill.” I smiled. “I can’t imagine there’s a lot of people you can confide in―”
“Except for my victims. They’ll take my secrets to the grave,” he cut in, amusement lacing his every word.
I blinked a few times, wrapping my mind around his meaning.
“I have a lot of information about you. Information that could easily lead the police to finding out your identity. What I’m asking.
..” I slowly sat up, allowing my bare feet to touch the cold cement floor as I straightened.
“If you agree to be interviewed by me, I’ll delete everything I have when I’m done. ”
“And if I say no and kill you right now?” He pulled out a knife, the blade contrasting against the all-black clothes he wore.
I stiffened. It was at least six inches, and the pain would be beyond horrible. Yet, at the same time, I knew how he killed, and it wouldn’t necessarily be with this particular weapon.
Don’t count on it. He just killed Patrice yesterday. You’ve thrown off his pattern.
“Every day, at nine o’clock in the evening, I input a PIN into software on my laptop or phone.
” I reached to the side, then realized my bag was missing, and so was my phone.
I pushed my worry aside and continued, “If I don’t input the code, everything I know about you is sent to the police’s email address. ”
He fished into his pockets again and pulled out my phone. “And what makes you think I can’t torture it out of you?”
“I’d give you the wrong one. You’d put that in, and then you’d have one last chance before it’s sent out as a safeguard against that very thing.” I shrugged, trying to act as though I wasn’t terrified out of my mind. “I could give you a second PIN under torture, but if it’s the wrong one...”
He chuckled as he handed me the device. “Clever.”
I took it and arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you scared I’ll call for help?”
“No.” He twirled the blade in his hand. “Just as I wasn’t worried you’d call the police when you found my note inside your apartment.”
He was clever, too. But it didn’t surprise me, considering how long he’d been a serial killer. As far as I knew, it had been at least twelve years.
“You weren’t the man in the hoodie at the front of my building, were you?” I said, not really asking the question as I realized I’d walked right into his trap.
He shook his head. “In this economy, most people will do anything for a hundred dollars. Including wearing a hooded sweatshirt and standing outside a door for an hour. A desperate student might even play the role of a teacher’s assistant to keep you inside an office...”
Oh, he was good.
“If you don’t want to do the interview, I won’t force you either. That wouldn’t be ethical for my report―”
“As opposed to blackmailing me?”
“I’m not doing that. It’s only in place if you torture or kill me.
” I adjusted the strap of my dress as it loosened, and I could’ve sworn his gaze followed the movement.
Probably my imagination. “If you say no, then you give me a few days to disappear, and I promise I’ll delete everything I have on you. ”
He laughed. A real laugh. No menace. My heart beat just a bit faster at the sound.
“And why should I trust you to do that?”
“Because trust is all we have. I trust you not to kill me, and you trust I won’t send any of the information I have about you to anyone.
” I clutched the side of the cot. “You’ll even be able to read my report before I send it out to my professor if you want to.
Nothing will give out anything that can be traced back to you specifically. ”
Silence hung heavy between us for what seemed like forever. No sound came from anywhere but from the floor and walls, I guessed we were in a basement. Depending on how far from the city we were... I could be anywhere.
“Tell you what... I’ll think about it.”
It wasn’t a ‘no,’ and I’d take it as a win. I couldn’t help but beam as I clapped my hands together in excitement, the handcuffs clinking as I did. Glancing to the side, I stared at the loose chain next to me.
I lifted it up and grabbed another section with my other hand. “Isn’t it a bad idea to have this much give in this chain? It could be used to wrap around your neck and choke you.”
He leaned forward even more and dragged the chair until one of his knees pushed between my legs. “I dare you.”
I couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t just fear anymore. Something in his tone pushed me to act, and in one quick motion, I wrapped the metal links around him just as he pressed the knife against my throat. It was cool against my skin.
For a few seconds, no one moved or spoke. This close, the scent of wood and musk filled my nostrils.
“Are you always this obedient?” he asked; I could almost hear the smile.
I grinned, relieved he didn’t decide to kill me. Instead, he seemed to find me amusing. “Only when it’s malicious compliance.” I let go of one end of the chain and slowly pulled away from him.
He chuckled as he lowered the knife. I waited for him to unlock my cuffs, but when he didn’t move, I lifted my arm. “I do have classes I need to be at before you make up your mind about the interview. If you don’t mind...”
“And why would I let you leave?” he asked as though my request was absurd. “No. You can stay right here while I decide.”
“I’m not inputting the PIN until you let me go, and when the cops find you―”
He stood and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking back as I gasped.
“How do you know I’m not tired of this and want it to all end?
Death by cop is easy. Quick.” He traced the leather gloves along my cheek.
“And I’d have twenty-four hours before that little timer of yours ran out.
Do you know how much pain I could inflict in that time?
How much I can bend you until you break?
Don’t mistake my curiosity for weakness, darling girl , or it’s the last mistake you’ll ever make. ”
I nodded despite the added strain it put against my scalp, and he let me go. Tears burned my eyes, but I ignored them as I massaged my head, wincing at the pain. “I have classes where they take attendance. If I don’t show up, they’ll let my social worker know, and she’ll have my ass.”
He strode to the door and vanished for a few seconds before returning with a syringe. “If you insist on leaving, then you’re doing so the same way you came here.”
“Can’t I just close my eyes?” I asked, almost in a whine. I really hated needles.
“We’ve already established you’re smart. I wouldn’t put it past you to already have figured out where inside this place we are.”
“Basement,” I blurted out. I couldn’t help it; his compliment about my intelligence made me tingle everywhere. “So does that mean you’ll never invite me over to do the interview here?”
He approached, and I eyed the syringe as though it was worse than the knife.
“We haven’t established whether I’ve agreed to that offer yet.”
“Okay...but could you not stab me in the neck with it this time? That really hurt...”
He sat next to me on the cot, and I hoped he couldn’t feel the heat coming off my body like I could his. “It has to go into the muscle,” he said quietly as he took out a small packet from his pocket.
How many things does this man have in his pockets?
He ripped it open, then motioned at my upper thigh. “That’s where it’ll hurt the least. That or just below your shoulder.” He traced a gloved finger on my back, just above my shoulder blade, and I couldn’t help the tiny goosebumps spreading across my arms.
I swallowed against the dryness in my mouth. “Shoulder is fine,” I muttered. “What is that, anyway?”
“A sedative. Midazolam.”
He rubbed the pad on my skin, and I shivered at the sudden cold.
Without another word, he pushed the needle in.
I hissed through my teeth as the pressure grew.
Instinctively, I leaned forward, trying to get away from the shot, but he grasped my arm, keeping me in place.
His arm pressed against my chest, and I leaned into it, closing my eyes.
The hot lead pushed into me again, and I clenched my jaw to keep from screaming.
Doziness hit me, and my head leaned against the sleeve of his leather jacket. For a second, I pictured him smiling, and something deep down inside felt like everything would be okay.