Finished: 18.10.17
Words: 3,027
NFF, 2018’s 1st Halloween fic (2nd is Candy Coma)
“E-excuse me, Sir?”
He didn’t bother to turn, rude, “I was just wondering… since we’re not doing anything… do you think I could go to the bathroom?”
“Bathroom?” His back straightened, hands stopping whatever they were doing.
She failed to swallow the lump forming in her throat, “Y-yeah. Y’know, a bathroom? Usually has a toilet and sink?”
He half turned, “Why would you need to go to a bathroom?”
She rolled her eyes, “Gee, I don’t know,” he swerved his stool around to face her, eyes dark, her heart skipped a beat, “I-I need to pee.”
His eyebrows went up, as if he’d never considered that before, this guy kidnaps people and straps them to a chair but doesn’t know what to do if they need to pee? He nodded to himself before getting up, coming over to where she was bound. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs off the tray, before beginning to undo the straps. I can’t believe he’s actually buying this, her heart sped up, beating harder against her chest, now all I have to do is time this right… She chewed her lip as he undid the straps, carefully placing a knee on her as they fell.
“Hold up your hands.”
She complied, getting her good first look at the room as he clicked the cuffs around her wrists. Her eyes immediately went to the tray, hoping for a weapon, but finding small bottles of paint and a needle, is that… tattoo supplies? Her eyes went to the table against the opposite wall, it was littered with drawings, was he… gonna tattoo me? What the fuck?
He roughly grabbed her by the elbow, hoisting her off the chair before pulling her toward the door. They entered a hallway, and she instantly felt the temperature drop, wind, she looked to her left and saw a ladder resting against the far wall, please let that be a door. He shoved her into a small bathroom, standing at the entrance before looking at her expectantly.
She reached for the door, but was stopped by a hand on her wrist, his expression stern, “The door stays open.”
“I can’t pee if you’re watching.”
He rolled his eyes before turning around, so he was facing out into the hall, “Better?”
“Hardly.”
“If you don’t want to pee I’ll just-”
“No! No, it’s fine,” she went over to the toilet, sitting on it, “Just… don’t look, okay?”
“I promise.”
Will this girl escape, or become the latest Tattoo Killer victim? Find out here!