Okay, so… my landlord kidnapped me. Yeah. Seriously. My boyfriend, Liam, was supposed to come with me to check out the apartment, but he got called away on a business trip last minute. The landlord saw I was just a college grad, all alone, and he started… well, he started getting grabby. Next thing I know, he's locked me in his creepy basement. Like he actually thinks he can just keep me… 1. My eyelids felt heavy, like peeling tape off a wall. When I finally got them open, the scene in front of me hit me like a physical blow. My breath hitched. What the hell was I wearing? It was… trashy. Skimpy doesn't even begin to cover it. It wasn't really clothes. Just… scraps. Shreds of thin, ragged fabric draped over me, barely hiding anything important. I couldn't stand looking. I squeezed my eyes shut again, heat flaring up my neck and cheeks. Pure, burning shame. I always dress pretty modestly, you know? Nothing flashy. I’d never, ever wear anything like… this. My hands automatically flew up to cover myself, but—clink. A cold, sharp sound. Metal. My wrists were chained. My stomach plummeted. Where am I? How did I get tied up here? My mind started racing backwards, trying to piece together how I ended up in this nightmare. My name’s Chloe. I just graduated a little while ago. Job hunting has been a total headache, and step one was finding my own place. Liam and I had planned to go apartment hunting together, but then his phone rang, and suddenly he had some "emergency" work thing he couldn't miss. Just like that, he was gone. So there I was, standing alone in front of this apartment building, staring at this gross, yellowed wooden door. I got this really bad feeling. You hear those horror stories, right? Landlords preying on young women, college students especially. But we’d set up the viewing for today, and bailing last second felt rude, like it would tick the landlord off. He’d called me the day before, going on about how tight the rental market was because of graduation season, how places were getting snapped up instantly. If I didn't commit fast, I'd lose it. So I’d locked it in, feeling pressured. And then, of course, Liam flakes out right when I need him. Still, that bad feeling wouldn't go away. I quickly called my best friend, Maya, but it went straight to voicemail. Okay, Chloe, I told myself, trying to shake it off. You're probably just being paranoid. What are the odds something bad actually happens? I took a deep breath, pushed the dread down, and knocked lightly on the door. 2 The door opened pretty fast, and this guy with a face full of stubble and a nasty scar popped out. His eyes were kinda spooky. He glanced outside first, like checking if anyone was around, then looked me up and down. The way he stared… it was like he wanted to eat me alive. Something felt really wrong. My feet were already backing away. I managed to get a little distance, running, but he caught up to me anyway. “Hey, I didn’t do anything. Why are you running?” He lunged, grabbed my arm hard, and kind of rubbed it a few times, this nasty smirk on his face. I frantically looked around. A few yards away, an older woman was walking towards us. Using all my strength, I yelled, “Mom!” In a crowd, yelling “Help!” might get ignored. But yell “Mom,” and almost every mother will turn her head. Sure enough, she looked over. She must have seen the scar-faced guy clamping his hand over my mouth and thought it looked weird, because she frowned and started walking our way. “What’s going on here?” she asked. The guy holding me didn’t miss a beat. “This is my wife,” he said smoothly, his hand still tight over my mouth. “She’s got some mental issues, doesn’t recognize me right now. Just having a little tantrum.” He sounded so practiced, like he’d done this a million times. How many girls had he trapped with this lie? I saw the woman’s expression shifting, starting to believe him, looking like she was about to walk away. I panicked. This might be my only chance. My brain raced, forcing myself to stay calm somehow. When his hand loosened just a tiny bit, I bit down hard on the palm covering my mouth. He yelped, snatching his hand back. “Shit! You bitch!” I grabbed onto the older woman’s purse strap with all my might. “Help me! I don’t know him, I really don’t! Please, call the police! Please…” He cut me off, grabbing me again. “How many times have you run off to the hospital? Can you stop making trouble for me?” I looked up at him, saw his eyes darting around as he tried to pull me away. I could only stare pleadingly at the older woman, praying she’d call 911. Then the guy pulled something out of his pocket – I couldn’t see what – and showed it to the woman. The look on her face changed instantly, and she practically ran away, leaving me behind. While his attention wasn't on me for that second, I kicked him hard, right where it counts, and bolted, running back the way I came. I didn’t realize how dangerous that move was, how much it would provoke him. Later, I paid a heavy price for it. A sharp pain exploded in the back of my neck, and then… nothing. Everything went black as someone dragged me away. 3 Even with a million questions buzzing in my head, I forced myself to stay calm, trying not to attract the attention of whoever kidnapped me. I stayed quiet. That’s when I started really looking around. It was dark everywhere. A messy, dirty table held all sorts of chemical bottles I didn’t recognize. Various whips and handcuffs hung on the walls, along with different kinds of women’s underwear, just hanging there to dry. The dripping sound I’d barely noticed suddenly stopped. Then, slow footsteps approached from outside the door. Screeeape— There was a dragging sound, like something sharp being pulled across the floor. It echoed horribly in the quiet room. Fear tightened in my chest. When the door creaked open just a crack, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, pretending I was still out cold. Don’t see me… please don’t see me awake. I prayed silently, over and over. A cold draft brushed against my nearly naked skin, making me shiver involuntarily. Suddenly, I felt something wet near my ear, followed by a disgusting slurping sound. A rough hand landed on my chest. It slid down, fingers tracing over my stomach, stopping to rub circles on my lower belly. His other hand held something thin, like a needle, lightly scraping it across my sensitive skin. “Awake, are we?” His voice was deep, resonant. Normally, I’m a sucker for a good voice, but right now? Not interested. Did he know? Or was he just trying to trick me? I kept playing dead, not reacting. With my eyes closed, my other senses felt amplified. His hands didn’t stop. I felt him lightly hooking his fingernails along the inside of my thigh, exploring upwards, deeper. He didn’t make any sudden moves, just kept touching me. If he knew I was awake… I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to resist. After what felt like forever, he suddenly grabbed my leg, lifting it and hooking it over his hip. He just held it there. I had no idea what he was planning. Looking around the room again, at the disturbing décor, and remembering how he’d just been touching me without rushing… this kind of guy probably wanted me awake for whatever sick thing he had planned. Being moved like that made my leg twitch uncontrollably. That seemed to turn him on even more; his movements became rougher. But my thigh started shaking uncontrollably, trembling no matter how hard I tried to stop it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I cracked my eyes open just a slit. Staring down at me was the man with the deep scar across his face. It all came rushing back. It was him! The creepy landlord! He had this twisted, amused smile on his face. “Done playing possum?” And then, the sharp object pierced my skin. A jolt of pain shot through me. I felt a cool liquid slowly seeping into my body. A strange sense of calm washed over me, relaxing my mind and body. Was it drugs? I didn’t know… Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe the drug, but I felt dizzy, heavy… and then I passed out again.
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