Milanas PoV

Dylan finished and had moved me to the sofa to come round. He had also put that bloody black dress back on me since it had dried

I was starting to get movement back and was thinking how many times Dylan would drug me like that. It was horrible and all to his advantage. The thought about winning this fight was still lingering in my head.

I had my eyes locked on Dylan as he was washing up. The cabin worked that entrance area exposed the kitchen as well as the seating area. Meaning I could watch him clean and what not from the sofa.

It fascinated me how domestic he was. He was a monster yet he was cleaning up after himself, in fact he did take good care of this cabin which confused me even more. In the horror movies the psycho isn't hygienic but he seemed to be. That's what made me have some fascination for him. What was going on inside of his head.

Are people born wicked or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?

That quote from wicked ran though my brain. I don't know why I was thinking so deeply into his psych but I guess since I was so scared and confused my mind was focused on him a lot.

He finished washing and wondered over to me

"Lift your arm up" he demanded. I wiggled my fingers slightly and started to move my arm up slightly

"You'll be back to normal in less than a hour, look I need to go out to- pick something up, I need you to be a good girl and stay here" he said, his eyes widening on me.

I nodded slightly, as much as my head allowed. He crooked his eye brow at me slightly

"Just to be on the safe side" he said. He walked over to the wall to the side of me an opened the draws next to it. he pulled out something that rattled and something that made a heavy bang in the table.

I was faced away so I couldn't see what he was doing. I began to try and crook my body around to see him but my body was still not responding to my pleads to move.

I herd a rattle of metal and I tensed up slightly and tryed even harder to turn my body around.

I could just see him from the corner of my eyes. I saw him squat down and hold something against the wall quite low down, I couldn't see what it was but I saw him pick something else up and I herd a rattle before the loud and annoying sound of the drill ran through my ears. IT stopped and I thought it was over but he repeated it 3 more times after and that made me super curious as to what he was drilling to the wall

He stood up and walked over to the sofa. He lifted up a pillow and placed it next to the wall. He then came over to me and lifted me up. He carried me over to the wall and I could see he drilled in a wooden board with two hand cuffs coming out. Home made obviously

He sat me on the pillow and attached one cuff to my wrist and then the other to my other wrist.

"Perfect, because we all know if we cut a puppets strings they tend to run away" Dylan whispered darkly as he moved away from my ear. I shivered slightly. But you really cut the string away from a puppet they collapse. With no guidance they have nothing to work by. Which made me think, what if I was the puppet master and he was the puppet. He needed me to function. Without me he'd collapse. Each girl he took he must have took for a reason. When one died he needed another or he couldn't be able to function. Each time he was cut free from his strings, when a girl died, he collapsed under there loss and needed another puppet master to give him direction once again.

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