Chapter 4 - Y/N

'What the fuck happened...'

My head hurt and I felt something wet and sticky on my temple. 

'Am I bleeding?'

I tried to touch it, but I noticed I couldn't move my hands. I was sitting in what seemed like a chair, bound with what felt like thick ropes around my ankles and wrists.

Slowly opening my eyes, I realized I couldn't see a thing. I had some sort of hood impeding my vision.

'I can't move and I can't see'. "F-fuck", I said quietly with a shaky voice.

I started to remember what had happened, and the sudden dread of realization finally hitting me. 

'Am I gonna die...'

Trying not to panic, and failing, I tried to breathe in and out slowly. Shaky breaths was all I could manage. 

I tried my best to think what to do. I thought it could be a good idea to keep quiet, to listen what was around me, while trying to calm myself down. I felt scared like I've never been before. My head felt cloudy and disoriented. 

This was real. 

https://youtu.be/mPZkdNFkNps

I could hear rain outside, heavy rain. The room smelled humid and sort of musty. Which was way better than the smell of sweat and blood emanating from the hood on my head. It was overwhelming, and I suddenly felt claustrophobic, causing me to have a panic attack.

The wooden cabin creaked at the relentless rain and wind. It was cold, so cold, it gave me chills.

'I'm gonna fucking die, I-I'm gonna ff-ucking die, I'm gonna fucking d-die. Those people are gonna torture me, r-rape me and I'm gonna fucking die. Ffuckffuckfuckkfuckfuckfuc-' 

A chuckle interrupted my thoughts.

Shaking and hyperventilating, I looked up in vain to where the sound came from. I faintly saw movement through the fabric, just the vague shape of a shadow moving in front of me.

I heard a soft clink of metal, steps coming closer to me. I could feel a presence in front of me, and I could see the shape of someone leaning in closer.

Suddenly, I felt the blunt coldness of something metal running over the skin of my legs, going up to my thighs. 'FuCKING DRESS UnIFORM'.

Bound to the chair, I tried in vain to close my legs.

"Please, please don't. Please d-don't", I begged, tears running down my face. I felt helpless, vulnerable.

They stopped, and soon after I heard a loud thud right next to me of something heavy being dropped.

The person in front of me chuckled again. A low, evil, sound that sent shivers down my spine. It was full of menace and coldness.

"Please let me go. I haven't seen you, and I don't know who you are. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please let me go. I'm no one. P-please", I tried begging, the words just blurting out of my mouth.

I wanted to barter for my freedom with whoever was keeping me captive. I figured I couldn't really defend myself at the moment. I was tied down to a chair being able to basically just wiggle around pathetically. But even if I wasn't, I mean sure, I could throw a punch, but I had no idea how to properly fight.

Either way, I thought threatening violence was probably not the best option right now.

It was quiet, with only the rain outside breaking the silence between us. Through the fabric of the hood, I could see the shadow in front of me twitching slightly.

I felt sick from the smell of that damn black hood on my head and the probable concussion that I had. 'Please, Y/N, don't puke over yourself... hold it in, just keep it down'.

As if reading my mind, the person in front of me took the hood off from over my head. For once I could take a deep breath, and even if the air felt heavy and humid, I was grateful I could breathe some fresh air.

My eyes took some time to adjust to the light. Once I regained my focus, I could see the person in front of me clearly. 'Seriously?! It's the fucking guy from a few nights ago, the guy with the fucking goggles that stuttered'. I was still scared and panicky, but now I felt angry as well.

'The guy who I thought had kind eyes, and asked me for a refill of his stupid Dr Pepper... and I thought he was cute!'.

Now orange goggles were staring back at me, cold and unemotional except for the silhouette of a smirk that could be seen by the folds of his mouthguard.

"Wakey, wakey princess", he said in a mocking tone. His voice was low and 'no stutter, huh?'. Before I could stop myself from thinking out loud-

"No stutter this time?"

'Why did I say-' as soon as I finished my stupid retort I felt a slap on my face. It stung like hell.

"Don't think you're in a position to mock me, love" he said, with a calm voice. "You're only alive because I want you to be. I even had to convince the others to keep you, said I was gonna finish you off once I had my fun".

'My fun...?' my eyes widened, knowing all too well what that meant. "Please, let me go, I promise I won't say anything. I barely know who you are, and I have no idea what your name is, or anything really. I swear I won't say anything". 

He frowned, but didn't hit me again. He kept quiet, just looking at me.

"I c-can't, love", he finally said. His voice had a tint of worry in it, almost pleading.

'His stutter is back...? Why is he stuttering now?'. I looked down and couldn't help but let out a disappointing sigh. I felt too tired to keep arguing, to even struggle.

"A-an-and I know what y-you're thinking, and I'm no-not gonna rape y-you", I looked up at him skeptically, but decided to remain quiet, not daring to say anything. 

He then added quietly, and I was barely able to hear him, "I'm n-not Offenderman".

I remained silent for a while, looking at the floor. Taking in what he had just said, trying to make heads or tails from it. But nothing made sense.

The old wooden room had a window with a broken glass pane, through which some rain came through. There was a wooden table, a few chairs, and a bookcase. The room looked old and decrepit, but it was somewhat clean. Over the table there were tools, boxes and knick knacks. Someone actually took care of the place as best as they could. It kind of looked like a workshop.

He took a chair and sat in front of me, making me look back up at him. He was sitting with the back of the chair towards me. His face was close enough so I could see the details of his face.

Some messy strands of brown hair fell over his goggles under the dark blue hoodie. His jacket had some dark stains all over, but more so over the striped sleeves. Which I could easily guess what they were from. 

I then remembered the people at the diner. I didn't really have any emotional connection with them, I knew their names and had some general idea of who they were in their personal lives, but that's it. But even if they were just my coworkers, it still made me feel bad from the violent and cruel way they died. 

'Why though, why kill them?' 

I looked down at his bandaged hands, his forearms resting forward over the backrest of the chair.

He smelled like a weird combination of blood, sweat and oddly enough... a faint smell of cinnamon.

Distracted by my own thoughts, I didn't notice he had removed his goggles. I could finally see his eyes. He still had kind brown eyes, however they had a flash of violence and danger in them. Something dark lied beyond. Something I hadn't noticed before.

I noticed he had faint small wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, as if he often smiled. 'A murderer with a sense of humor... or a knack for laughing maniacally, or both', I thought.

He didn't say anything, allowing me to watch him. I could tell he was watching me back as well, painfully aware of my eyes looking at his face, his body, his clothes.

'This is so awkward'

I noticed he was tall, by the way he was sitting and leaning in. His arms seemed lean, but sort of muscular and strong by the way his jacket hugged them.

"Toby...", he finally broke the silence, breaking with it my thoughts. "My name is T-Toby. And if I r-remember correctly, y-you're Y/N, right?"

"Yeah", I said bluntly, but making sure my tone was even. The least I want is for him to get angry at me.

I could tell he had an amused smile under his mouthguard though, and I could feel he was more relaxed.

He looked at the side of my face for a moment. "We s-should check that wound you g-got there", he said, standing up and going over to the table nearby. I saw him rummage through some boxes, coming back with gauze and what I thought was alcohol.

"Oh yeah... I wonder how I got that", I said sarcastically. I couldn't help rolling my eyes at him.

He stood in front of me, raising an eyebrow. "W-well, it was either t-that or a h-hatchet to the face, l-love", his tone was lighter and I could tell he was trying to make a joke. But I very much knew he was capable of chopping me up in little pieces and much more.

I looked over to my side, noticing the hatchet on the floor.

'I guess that's what I felt going over my leg earlier'. It made me feel queasy, seeing how it was stained with blood. 'To think that touched my skin...' 

I looked back up at him not wanting to see the weapon anymore. He was still standing there in front of me. I could tell he noticed my reaction, and not even trying to hide his amusement he just pushed the hatchet with his foot out of my sight.

He then leaned down hesitantly, his confidence almost failing. It made me tense up as I felt his face closer and seeing his hands reaching over to my temple.

It stung, but I knew it was for the best to let him clean up whatever wound I had there. 

'That he gave me, mind you...'

He kept working on cleaning my wound in silence.

"Is it bad?"

"N-no, just a s-small cut. You do h-have a big ass bruise t-though...", he squinted his eyes, as if trying to see the wound better.

"Honestly, did you need to hit me this hard?" I said, surprised at my own attempt at joking back. 'I'm here, tied up to a fucking chair, with a CONCUSSION and I decide to make jokes??'

He thought for a moment before looking me in the eyes.

"In all s-seriousness... You r-really don't know what roams a-around in these woods. I-if I hadn't found you, y-you would have found the worst d-death you could imagine", he said darkly, sending shivers down my spine.

I winced slightly when he started rubbing the cut with alcohol. "Sorry, l-love... Almost d-done" he said.

"What's with the pet names, Toby?" I couldn't help the curious tone in my voice, I was feeling calmer. Still my feet and wrists hurt like hell and my back was killing me.

"Well, y-you're cute", he shrugs. 

'And you're delusional', I thought, but I wouldn't dare say that out loud.

"B-besides," he continued, "I know I k-kidnapped you and all, b-but you were not the person we were tasked to murder, so I honestly don't mean to hurt y-you...". 

He looked down and I could slightly see a cheeky smile forming under his mask 

"-unless you w-want me to" he added, winking at me while standing back up.

My eyes widened in shock. 

"I- uh... No" I said, annoyed at myself for the lack of confidence in my voice. He just shooked his head and chuckled.

"We'll see about t-that" he said with confidence in his voice. It seemed like my uneasiness was entertaining to him.

He went back to the table, putting the rest of the alcohol and the gauze back. 

Afterwards, he walked back and sat down again, fiddling with the bandages covering his hands. 'I wonder how he hurt his hands...'.

"And what happens now?"

He looked out the window, it was still raining heavily.

"Now, you stay here. I need to take care of a couple of things", his voice was low and calculated. "Don't try anything stupid. I will find out if you do", he said while looking back at me.

'His stutter is gone... he has a dark aura around him now too'.

Before I could say anything else, he put the hood back over my head. Hearing his heavy footsteps and a door closing, I was left alone.

"NO! Wait- Toby, come back!", as much as I didn't trust him, feeling like I was alone made me feel worse.

I started hyperventilating. Feeling the anxiety and desperation creeping over me again.