Overcast Skye: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: THE Dreamer

"Where am I?" Alex muttered as he slowly gained consciousness. He squinted his eyes trying to recognize the unfamiliar surrounding. His eyes felt heavy and tried, he tried to rub his eyes but something held his hands back. He wanly turned his head to find his hands tied to either sides of a burly bed. 

His eyes failed him as they were fuzzy. His mind argued to decide if he should freak out..or not. "Hello...anybody there."

"Hel-lo!" replied a sweet inquisitive voice from behind the headboard. She moved toward him, where he could see her more clearly.

Alex sighed with relief, "Oh my god, you scared me. What happened? Is it morning already?"

She sauntered around the bed without a word, smiling playfully.

"Come on. This isn't funny. Untie me...What's happening?"

No reply.

"Untie me now. Do you hear me?"

She pulled a chair and sat to his right beside the bed, looking at him and smiling patiently. 

He smiled nervously, "Come on, untie me. We can talk. I enjoyed our little conversation last night, but where are we now? Is this your house?"

He waited for a reply.

"Okay, if you want to play, could you at least loosen the ropes a bit, they kind of hurt," he tried to sound playful, but his eyes gave him away.

Her smile vanished momentarily, making him realise he was at her mercy.

Confused and frustrated, Alex looked around, getting more and more aware of his surrounding with each passing moment.

"You are scaring me. Is that what you want? You got it, okay? Please stop this and let me go... please....let's forget all this. I'm sorry if I offended you.. I'll never bother you again... I won't tell anyone. I swear," he begged.

"I know you won't. But, honestly, you don't believe I went through all this trouble  just to let you go, do you?" she smirked.

"What do you want from me?" screamed disgruntled Alex. "I have been nothing but nice to you since we met. Why me!!" "I can't believe I let you lure me."

"I don't particularly enjoy explaining myself to anyone, but why does anything have to happen for a reason? Why are you this way? Evolution psychology? Social construct?"

"Do you do everything for a reason? Are you proud of everything you have done?" she inquired.

Masking his rage, Alex continued through gritted teeth, "What do you want? You want money?" He waited..."I'll do anything..."

"Anything?" she eyed encouragingly.

"Yes." Alex smiled on a victory that was only in his head.

"Anything..Like what?"

"I'll give you everything I have."

 She challenged him with a disapproving nod.

"I...I...don't know. Why don't you tell me? I swear I'll do anything."

She leaned forward, eyes narrowed, "Can you kill someone?"

A wave of emotions washed over him. His heart raced, and he squeezed eyes shut and hoped he would wake up from this nightmare when he opened them. 
He quickly contemplated his options:  imagined what leverage she'd over him if she did free him to make the kill. Do I have to kill someone?

Realizing he hadn't spoken in a while, he said, "No..I don't know."

"I don't know?" she replied incredulously.

"Okay...I'll do it." 

"Sure?" she took it with a grain of salt.

"Yes. I can..."

"That's it?" Looks at her wrist watch, "It takes just 3 minutes for you to decide to take a life? Wow! Unbelievable, isn't it? Right now you would do anything, kill anyone as if you are worth so much more than someone else. How would you do it?"

Mind racing and heart pounding Alex's gaze shifted back and forth between her and the wall behind her, as if reading from a teleprompter, "I...I...can kidnap them and bring them to you. We can kill them here. We...I... can get a gun. I know people." 

Seeing her unimpressed and blank expression. "Orrr...I don't know. Poison?.... Run them over?" 

"Not a very creative person, I gather. Must be difficult being a salesman with no creativity," she spoke dismissively.

Alex visibly losing patience. "I can think of hundred ways to kill you. You think you are so smart...cool...and entitled when my hands are tied. You're nothing but a coward."

Her face sterned.

He chuckled, "You are weak. I can see through you. You were hurt. Did a boy hurt you? Violate you? Is that why you want to hurt me?"

She disengaged the gaze and looked away to make him stop. 

"Why don't you untie me and then we'll see who's smart, huh? I dare you. You're a coward, aren't you? I can tear you to pieces in seconds you pathetic measly woman," he said provokingly. 

"You think women are weak? You overconfident chauvinistic jerk! You want to see who's strong? Let's!!" She fumingly grabbed a serrated utility knife from one of the draws on the bedside table and cut a rope. Then, she grabbed another rope and started to cut.

Alex looked at her in disbelief, You're dead you stupid bitch. I'm gonna..."Wha-t!" Suddenly startled by a piece of rope thrown at his face.

"Ha! Gotcha!" she sniggered. "Every time! Tell me you didn't believe I'd take you up on that dare!" 

"I wonder why people always assume something bad happened to me? You watch a lot of crime shows?" she said insultingly. 

"You're sick. Let me GO! Help somebody! Help!!! Please help me!!!" exploded Alex moving his body as fiercely as he could or as far as the ropes allowed him.

"Calm down, man. Chill. Hormones raging, today?" she said calmly raising her right brow, shoving a piece of rug in his mouth. 

She looked at him studying his feeble attempts at various approaches to dissuade her from what she was up to. 

"Confusion, negotiation, threat, scream...stage 4-- so soon!! Give up yet?" Waited for his response. "Maybe you are given more credit than you deserve, I mean your species. Privileged, chauvinistic piece of shit. What? What you going to do?" she said insolently.

She strolled across the room. "Wanna listen to my playlist?" Stereo blared and she turned around pleased with herself, "Like it?" She didn't care. 

She mouthed the song and danced casually toward the console table on which she had placed the scrubs and gloves, and started to wear them over her dress, "Alex! Look away, I'm painfully shy." 

"Now you can look," she spoke without turning toward him. 

Then, she pulled the top drawer open, cluttered with knives and a 9mm Glock 34. She took a quick glance at him, and drew a combat knife. This should do. She felt the table tremble to the music. 

"Like the sound? Perfect diffusion - brilliant acoustics, I owe it to my designer," she observed his questioning eyes for a moment. "Alright. Guilty! I'll admit this room is sound proof!! I didn't wanna inconvenience you with the rug, but your screaming was plain antagonizing, man."

Alex helplessly looked at the knife approach him. 

"My eyes are up here!" she pointed out flirtatiously. 

"Random fact: did you know that hearing is thought to be the last sense to go when dying. Just so you know..." she gestured the surrounding enthusiastically. 

She  returned to her chair. "Emasculated? Must kill you not being able to call the shots." Touched the blade on his bare chest and scrawled it around, "I'll tell you what. You decide where you want me to dig this knife in. Will that make you feel better? In power?"

"Here?" she placed the edge of the blade on his abs, tightened in defensiveness. She could literally see his heart beating out of his chest, every inch of his body trembling with fear and anger. He nodded frantically signaling, no. 

She slid the blade up between his chest, and looked up for approval. Alex nodded pleadingly. 

"Higher?" she slid it higher to his neck. The nod continued redundantly in desperately.

She slit his throat leaving him grunting and shocked. 

"Better now? Aww...you can't talk now. That cut there, severed the trachea." 

She pulled the rag out with disgust even though she wore gloves, "Can't scream, but you're not gonna die, YET.
But I think you'd agree, it's better this way. Listening to you wasn't fun, at all."

She stared at him writhing in agony and his eyes screaming in pain. She leaned back on her chair and watched without batting her eyes as if savoring an intense moment from her favorite movie. Watched his life and any trace of hope drain away from the body.

She noticed the details of his arched and messy eyebrows, his deep blue eyes, disheveled auburn hair, dried and withered lips. His perfect jaw line. "You're pretty, you know that? It's your fault, really. Walking around looking like that -- someone could have raped you, and it'd still be your fault. You asked for it," she smirked.

She went in a trance swaying to the beats that filled the air, mouthing the lyrics, and eyes following the trail of blood from the bed to tarp on the floor, back to him.  

After a while, the six feet body laid still as a statue and unseeing eyes stared into space. 

She murmured, "Beautiful...you are free now: I'm so jealous. You don't have to wake up for work tomorrow. You're welcome, by the way!" she tapped on his cheek. 

The morning alarm went off. Skye woke up with a startle, contemplating as if woken up from a very graphic dream.

To be continued...