His Desire

Hunger and fatigue were two evils Tina was acquainted with. They came with the homeless territory, after all. What she wasn't familiar with was the ache that came with having to hold in her need to use the toilet for hours. Normally there were public toilets she could use, or toilets in public places that she could nip into quickly before leaving. Sometimes she would even find a secluded place and relieve herself there. Now, however, she didn't have that privilege. She couldn't move from the bed thanks to the restraints that had only been useful to scrap the skin off her wrists, and even if she could move, the door was locked and she had no idea what was behind the other door.

Fear was also a prominent characteristic of being homeless. The difference between that fear and the fear she felt now was that the fear on the streets helped her be vigilant and ahead of any danger she might have encountered. Now, all her fear did was consume her. She didn't know where she was, who this man was or what he wanted, and on top of all that she was confined to the bed with no escape. There wasn't much else she could do other than fear for her life.

"This isn't too bad," she whispered, in an attempt to distract herself from her desperate need for the toilet. "I can get through this."

She looked back at her wrists. They had become slightly bloodied but that was to be expected after she had rubbed the skin against the restraints. She could move her wrists but just couldn't escape the restraints, no matter how she folded her fingers or twisted her hands. She even tried to pull the restraints off the bedposts but to no avail. It seemed as if there was no way out of them.

Although Tina wasn't all that good at telling how much time had passed without having a watch, she knew it had been hours since the man had left the room. While she didn't want to be near him, she knew that she had more chance of escaping her restraints with him around. Getting out of the restraints meant that she had more chance of being able to escape, and that was all she wanted.

"It could be worse," she reminded herself, although she struggled to think of any situation that could be worse than the one she was currently in.

It wasn't long after she had fallen silent that the door handle moved and she heard the lock turn. Knowing who was about to enter through the door didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it made her feel sick. That feeling didn't go away when the door opened and the man stepped in the room, the chair accompanying him as well as a box. This time, however, she noted that he locked the door once he was in the room, giving her some hope that she would be released from the bed.

She watched as he set the chair up and placed the box on it before coming forward and leaning over her, hands groping at her wrists. He was so close that she could smell him and it made her nausea grow. Turning her head, she squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten in her head.

"Oh, Tina," he sighed, making her want to sink into the bed. "What have you done to yourself?"

To her complete shock, she felt her left wrist being freed, making her open her eyes. She looked at her wrists just in time to see the man release her other wrist, allowing her to slowly bring her aching arms down to her chest. That simple action made her muscles scream, protesting against the movement, but she didn't care. She was free, and although he had locked the door, it was a big improvement from five minutes ago.

The man moved back and sat on the chair, placing the box on his lap. She didn't move from her position but watched him cautiously as he watched her. "I suppose you need the toilet. It's just behind the other door. You can go, if you want," he said.

For a moment she didn't move, unsure about whether or not he was serious. It could have been a trick, one that was designed to get her to move before he got her in the perfect position to attack. But then he gestured to the closed door and she slowly sat up, swinging her legs over the opposite side of the bed. She kept glancing at him as she stood up from the bed, waiting for him to change his mind or go crazy at her. There had to be something else behind him releasing her from the restraints, and not just so she could use the toilet.

Her legs wobbled from their lack of use and she steadied herself on the wall when they threatened to give out. Her eyes shot back to the man but to her surprise he was no longer watching her and was instead going through the box that was on his lap. So she took a cautious step forward, and then another. The movement increased her need to use the toilet but didn't cause the man to look up or even stir. She had almost made it to the closed door when his voice made her jump.

"Don't get any ideas, Tina," he warned, making her look over to him. He still hadn't looked up from the box. "Though I know you're not that stupid."

Slipping into the small bathroom relieved her on so many levels and being able to close the door properly only relieved her more. She inspected the room once she was on the toilet, noting that it had everything a normal bathroom was equipped with except there was a strange box seemingly built onto the wall opposite the toilet. It was empty inside and black in colour but she had no idea of its purpose and had never seen one in a bathroom before.

She washed after she'd finished on the toilet and stood in front of the door, her fear building up inside her again. The only place she could go was back into that room where he was undoubtedly waiting for her, and although every part of her screamed that she shouldn't go back there, she knew she had no choice.

The man was still sat on the chair when she opened the door, the only difference was that the box was on the floor in front of his feet and he was looking at her. She lingered in the doorway, unsure about where to go, only for him to pat the bed in front of him. She moved back over to it, sitting gingerly on the side that she had climbed off.

"Stop being silly," he chided, making her jump. He patted the edge of the side he was sat and she hesitantly obeyed. "Your left wrist, please."

Tina tried to stop her hand from shaking but her fear was just too much as she held out her left hand for him to take. She wasn't sure what to expect, but having him pull out a tube of cream from the box and begin to smooth the cool substance on her raw skin was not one of her options. She felt like she was on the tip of a knife, where any sudden movement would mean the end. Surely something had to be awry considering the man who had drugged her with a sweet was now applying cream to her wrist.

"Ask me," he said, making her look at him.

"W-what?" she replied, painfully aware of how tight his grip was on her wrist.

"Ask me the question you've been dying to ask."

There wasn't just one question she wanted to ask. There was many. What does he want with her? Why did he pick her? Was he going to kill her? Where were they? What was wrong with him? Why was he putting cream onto her wrists? What was going to happen now? If he wasn't going to kill her or let her go, why was she here?

She settled for the one she thought he was expecting. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked, watching as he bandaged her wrist to presumably keep the cream on her raw skin.

"Wrong question." Before she could think of another, he grabbed her bandaged wrist with one hand and with the other grabbed two fingers and bent them back. She let out a pained cry and grabbed at his hand, frantically trying to get him to let go, but to no avail. She could only let out a strangled scream when he increased his force and broke both fingers.

"Please stop!" she sobbed, the pain feeling like nothing she had ever felt before. Broken bones were not something she had ever been acquainted with, and with how much pain she was in, she was glad she had never been that reckless before.

He did stop, much to her relief. His grip on her wrist dropped and she cradled her hand to her chest as he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her up from where she had fallen, putting her back on the bed. "Now, let me look at your fingers," he said, holding out his hand.

She looked at him as if he were crazy, tears still wet on her lashes. He had just broken two of her fingers and expected her to now give him back the same hand he'd just harmed? There was no way she was going to offer him back her hand.

"Did you not hear me?" he said, making her lean away from him. "Give me your hand."

"You're crazy," she whispered, moving backwards on the bed. He grabbed her ankle before she could get far but she kicked out with her other foot, connecting with his arm and making him release her ankle. She took advantage of that and threw herself off the other side of the bed, wincing when she landed on the floor heavily. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the door that led to the bathroom, fingers grasping the handle briefly before she was slammed into the wood, squashing her hurt hand against the door.

She cried out in agony and squeezed her eyes shut before she was thrown back onto the bed, landing on her stomach. Before she could even contemplate moving, she was pinned against the bed by the man and he grabbed her hair, twisting it around his fingers as he pulled her head up.

"I am a patient man," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, "and I know you have to learn, but if you ever call me crazy again, I will cut out your tongue and make you eat it. Do you understand?"

She nodded in response only for him to pull her hair harder. "Y-yes," she squeaked.

Almost straight away did he release her hair, but instead of removing himself from on top of her, he let out a sigh. "I wish I could trust you," he mumbled, moving her hair away from her neck.

The next thing she felt was a small prick before becoming engulfed by sleep.