You were trying your best to stay awake, but as the seconds ticked by it was getting harder and harder. Jack had left the room mumbling something about how he was going to "teach that smiley-face a lesson" a long while ago. As uncomfortable as he made you feel, you were almost sad to be alone in such a bleak and uninteresting room.

It's for the best, you reasoned with yourself. I need to figure out how I'm going to get out of here, yeah? This gives me way more time to think. And maybe I can figure out a plan to get Jack to trust me.

What do I know about the guy?

He had an obsession with your body, his skin was gray, he had some kind of throat condition.

You sighed at the lack of information you had. It would be impossible to get inside his head with so little, unless you bribed him with sex or something.

You were desperate enough to get out that you entertained that thought for more than a minute or two. You were disgusted with yourself.

What has to be done is what has to be done. I need to get out of here and get back home.

But it struck you that you had no reason to go back home. Your parents had been violently mutilated and killed. You'd never be able to go back into your house, let alone be normal ever again. The thought made you start to truly cry for the first time since you'd arrived at this place.

Your body shook as you sobbed. With your arms still bound above you, you couldn't do much to curl into a ball, but you brought your legs as close to your chest as you could and hung your head as low as possible. Your face contorted into an ugly rendition of a theater mast, and you wailed as you cried, Tears streamed down your face and neck and soaked into your shirt.

You wept for your parents, your friends, your bed, the sunshine, warm human contact, everything that you had lost. You cried until you ran out of tears and all you could do was hiccup and be sad. You went limp, then, completely drained, and just let yourself hang by the arms. You stared at the dull, gray wall across from you and let your mind go blank.

--

It was nearly half an hour later when Jack came back into the room. You didn't react to his entrance; you were still just hanging there, limp and looking lifeless.

He crossed the distance between the door and you in three steps and slapped you across the face. You jolted at the sudden pain.

"What was that for?" You almost screamed at him. First, he kidnaps you, then he gropes at you with 'medical care' as an excuse, then he starts hitting you? Who does this guy think he is?

"I had to see if you were responsive."

"Responsive? Are you serious? That's the last thing I want to be right now! You violated me, you're getting off on cleaning my wounds and now you're slapping me for fun because I'm not paying attention to you?"

He was silent as you fumed. He tilted his head at you like a dog does at a high pitched noise, then reached up and slapped you again, harder, on the opposite cheek.

"Seriously?"

He barely let you finish the word before he backhanded you so hard your head slammed into the wall, then yanked you by the nose back towards him and covered your mouth with his other hand.

You struggled for breath as he pulled you closer to him.

"You listen to me, you bratty little cunt. You're here because I want you here. I am the only one allowed to hurt you, and I want you to know that the second you step out of line again, I will tear you to pieces. You're a toy for me, a pet, and I'm not above disciplining you like one. So, behave. I won't be so nice next time."

He released your nose and uncovered your mouth with those last words.

He moved his mouth right next to your ear.

"And next time I hit you, you better fucking thank me."