Bound

I sat bound to a wooden chair. My hands were tied together behind my back and I couldn’t move from my seat. A man stood by the only door to the room. The room was completely bare, the concrete walls and floor keeping the room cold. I shivered as the man came closer, from cold as well as fear. The man’s eyes were black and hollow, an emotionless tunnel to his soul. Locks of black hair fell around his eyes as he moved towards me. He raised his right hand as he reached me and I screamed, hoping someone would hear me and help me. But I had seen no one when I had been brought here.

“No one can hear you,” the man said roughly as he grabbed my neck with his left hand. He held my head to the side and used the knife in his right hand to cut off my left earlobe. I tried to move my head away, but the grip on my neck tightened and I felt myself being strangled. I stopped struggling and his grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. My ear felt as though it was burning and I could feel blood on my neck.

As the man turned my head so he could do the same on the other side I glanced into his eyes. Instead of being void of emotion I could see the flames of passion. This man was so sick and twisted that he actually enjoyed this.