My Sadist King

He bound my wrists and ankles together with thick, splintering rope--the kind that was used for nooses and sailing knots. A bag had been put over my head after that first stop. I had confused him when I said that I would go with him. It wasn’t something he was used to hearing, I’m sure. Then again, I didn’t know how many people he’d kidnapped before, but he knew that I was different. His eyes had glimmered.

I couldn’t guess what direction we were heading or if we were even in Arizona anymore. But it didn’t matter. I was never going to be out in the sun ever again. I wasn’t even going to start my senior year. I would never see my parents’ or brothers' faces again.

And I was actually okay with that.

The ropes were tightened before he carried me over his shoulder and into his house. The dark linen over my head heated up like a hot air balloon rising into the sky. My forehead was drenched and my eyes burned from the dripping sweat that occasionally seeped into their corners. My captor’s footsteps were heavy--the heel of his boots thumping with each step forward--and his grip on my waist was painful. He, a man of thin and unhealthy stature, didn’t look like much, but he was stronger than what anyone would assume. He hauled me onto his shoulder like I was a pillow.

The hollow and creaking echo of wooden floorboards beneath his feet gave me a slight idea of how old the house was. Most of the modern homes had carpeted floors and wood was usually an expensive upgrade. But this house wasn’t like the others. It was older. It reeked of rotting wood that had endured water damage over the years and the night’s heat was trapped like the inside of a masonry oven.

His steps descended a stairway, into a pitch black place where the heat was even greater. A dim light illuminated the room after the flick of a switch. I was set onto a soft surface and the bag that obscured my vision was removed. My captor was standing only inches from me, looking down at my clammy face. He removed his jacket and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“This is your home now,” he said. “You’re to stay down here unless I give you permission to go upstairs. Do you understand?”

I looked around at the seemingly tiny basement. The cushions of the couch beneath me were filled with ragged cotton and emanated a disgusting scent similar to urine. The walls were jagged concrete--there was no way anyone would hear someone screaming from down here. There had been a window, across from the bottom of the stairway, but it had been replaced with messy, cement filling.

The rest of the basement was sealed off by another set of cement walls and a single door in the center of them. I was certain that that was where he did his dirty work. I had already caught a whiff of the scent of something dead and the metallic hint of blood.

There was a room underneath the stairs with a missing door. I could barely see a toilet and sink with a loose pipe inside. Next to that room was something that caused my stomach to turn.

Rusty chains were embedded into the lower end of the wall with shackles at the ends of them.

“Do you understand?” he repeated.

The light bulb above us flickered. “Yes,” I replied meekly. He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket and began to saw at the rope around my ankles until it broke. He yanked me by my bound wrists and walked me over to the chains.

The shackles fit perfectly around my ankles, resting on top of my black and white sneakers like leg warmers. I took a cautious seat on the ground after he cut the rope around my wrists. My body ached. I had been tense during the entire drive, which seemed to have lasted about three hours.

“One more thing...” my captor said. He squatted and took my chin in his rough, sandpaper-like hand. “You will refer to me as your king.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “... What? Why?”

His hand whipped across my face and he grabbed my chin again, more angrily that time around. Tears welled up in my eyes as he laughed at me. “Because I fucking said so... Now, go on. Let’s practice... Say, ‘Yes, my king.’”

My bottom lip trembled and I forced it to stop. “Yes... my king.”

He smirked and let go of my face. “That’s it.” He rose and headed towards the stairs. Before he ascended, he looked back at me. “I have a question for you.”

I nodded, waiting on him.

“Why did you let me take you? You didn’t try to fight me or beg for your freedom like the others... Why?”

My lips turned up into a subtle smile.

“Because you’re the only one that likes me.”