This Stalker Won’t Leave Me Alone!

Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Lifebuoy


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He cupped my cheek with his rough hand, caressing it. His eyes softening and his cherry colored lips curled up. “God, I missed looking in those beautiful eyes of yours.” He said in a mellow voice; his eyes studying mine.

My nose scrunched up, and I frowned in disbelieve. Beautiful eyes? My eyes only have a dull shade of green. If he wants to see beautiful eyes, then he should look at himself in the mirror. Those turquois eyes of his are anything but dull.

He chuckled and pinched with his index finger and thumb my nose, wiggling it around in a teasing manner. His hold on my nose wasn’t painful, but I couldn’t breathe and it was annoying.

“Stop disbelieving my words, kitten. Your eyes are beautiful.” He said.

There he goes again with his mind reading skills.

I groaned and grabbed his hand, trying to pull it away from me, but that only resulted in my nose being pulled along too. He let out a heartfelt laughter.

I huffed and crossed my arms over each other. “Whatever. Can you just let me go so that I can breathe again?” I said, my voice sounding nasal.

Reluctantly but albeit, he still complied and let go of my nose. I wiggled my button shaped organ around to see if it was still attached to my face. While I was at it, I let my eyes roam around the room.

From what I could guess, the square room that we were at now was the living area. The walls were painted pearly white and there was a couch in the middle of the room with a flat-screen tv hanged on the wall across from it. There were three oak colored doors leading to different rooms and, hopefully, also to the exit. The marble white floor was glossy, reflecting me and Mr. Moore, who were still on the floor. But something else was really noticeable in this room. There were no windows. None, zero, nil! You would think that someone who’s rich like him would buy a place with a window at least!

Or maybe he forgot to add them in his design as he was building it? I certainly hope that the other rooms aren’t windowless…

My eyes landed back on Mr. Moore, whose face still displayed a smile. His eyes dreamingly looking at me. I stared at him uncomfortably, squirming under his gaze.

“I would appreciate if you wouldn’t stare at me like that.” I mumbled.

He raised his bow, smirking at me. “Like what?”

I glowered at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, please tell me, because I have absolutely no clue what you mean.” He leered, his eyes glisten in full mischief as he moved closer and closer to me like a panther stalking his prey causing me to back up against the wall.

“Stop it.” I tried to sound flat and steady, but you could hear the uneasiness in my voice. My heart was hammering against my chest at the proximity of closeness between us.

“Stop what baby~” He drawled, purring lowly.

I felt the panic rise in me. “S-Shouldn’t you show me around the place?” I asked hurried, trying to change the subject.

He frowns and growled displeased. “There’s nothing really to show. That’s the room we just came out from. Don’t worry, that will be locked from now on. That is the bathroom toilet attached, and that’s our bedroom.” He pointed out quickly and turned back to me.

Ignoring his statement about the bedroom, my eyebrows furrowed, confused. “Then where’s the exit?” I questioned.

His smirk grew eerily wider. “I wonder where~” He sang.

My stomach churned, the anxiety welling up inside me as I could understand the dreadful situation that I was in right now. Something else finally sunk in and my pupils widens.

“You said good morning to me.” I stated. “How long have I been out for?” I asked, the worried lines on my face becoming more prominent.

He shrugs. “Only for a day, it’s Wednesday.”

I drew in a sharp breath, choking on my saliva. Mr. Moore rubs my back, trying to calm me down, which was futile.

‘Wednesday!? He had kidnapped me on Monday so I have been missing for over 24 hours!’

I have to go home. Cherry and Brandon must be worried sick.

‘That’s right, Cherry!’ I reached for my phone in my pocket, only to end up feeling the empty fabric of my jeans.

“I took your phone.”

My eyes snapped to Mr. Moore, who had been studying me the whole time.

“Do you really think that I wouldn’t take your phone?” He scoffed. “Let me also inform you that there’s no cable phone nor cable tv.”

“What?” I said, flabbergasted.

“Oh, there’s also no internet.” He added.

My jaw went slack, and I was washed with the feeling that the world just had ended.

‘Kill me.’

He watched me silently, gauging for my reaction. I balled my hands into a fist, swallowing back a string of profanities that I wanted to throw at his handsome head for taking away the internet from me, but that was not important right now.

I eyed him carefully, my tensed fist still up as I chewed the inside of my cheeks. “You won’t get away with this.” I gritted out.

He stared at me with a pensive look, his head tilted sideways, a slow grin appearing on his face. “But I already got away with it though.”

“No, you didn’t.” I responded. “They will question at work if I don’t show my face suddenly, and do you honestly think that Cherry wouldn’t be looking for me?” I said with a smug grin.

He threw back his head and let out a humorless laughter, sending shivers down my spine. He pulled out a phone which had an uncanny resembles to mine. The screen lit up, revealing a text message.

My eyes broadens seeing the context of it. He smirks and took the moment to read the message out loud.

“Hey Cher, I took you guy’s advice into consideration and stayed home to let my ankle heal. You don’t have to visit me. I’ve got all the distraction tools at hand. Love yaaaaa.” He finished in a voice devoid of any emotion.

My eyes quivered, and I could feel my throat clamping up.

“Oh!” He let out, acting surprised. “Look what we got here our Cher replaying saying that you should watch the drama Kingdom on Netflix. What a great friend.” He shuts down the phone and threw it sideways on the ground. I watched as how my last connection to the outside world slides away from us over the smooth surface. “I’m sure that your great friend has already informed the people of your absence. We will already be far gone when they finally realize that something is wrong.” With a triumphant grin, he played with my hair; twisting a lock around his finger fumbling around with it as his piercing icy gaze bore into mine. “Give up.” He commanded.

I gritted so hard that it felt like my teeth would chip away. My eyes burning red, tears threatening to reveal themselves, but I refused to show any weakness. “No.” I barked. “No matter how long it will take, be it weeks, months, years, I will escape from here. I will never be yours.” My chest was heaving up and down from frustration.

Unfazed by my declaration, he let out a sigh, his eyes shut as he shook his head.

“You will give up. You will look in every corner for a way out, excited full of hope, but slowly and surely you’ll see in that there’s no way out and throw a tantrum, cry in desperation begging me to let you go. After more weeks you finally give up and accept your fate.” He narrates it as if he had seen it happen countless of times and I could feel the sparkle of hope that I had defused away.

“I am only waiting until the Stockholm Syndrome kicks in to sweep you completely off your feet.” He finished.

I wanted to refute him, tell him how wrong he was, but how could I? When he sounded so sure. When he had seen it happen, only God knows how many times. With my knees and the palm of my hands pressed on the floor, I looked down, my sight getting blurry from the tears. “No…” My voice came out hoarse, sounding like a thin whimper.

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He hooked his finger around my chin, tilting it up so that I would look at him. “Yes.” He whispers lowly. “Just be mine and you’ll be happy.” He grins evilly.

I was contemplating right there and then if I should give up. Thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad to be his.

‘Are you going to give up on yourself just like how your mom gave up on you?’

That thought was like a slap in the face waking me up. The fire that was about to be extinguished was now rekindled and stronger than before. I pushed Mr. Moore away and stood up, ignoring my throbbing ankle; heaving like a bull.

He looked up at me, stunned.

“I won’t ever give up. I am not like your other victims. At least I don’t have to be scared that I will get killed, leaving me enough time to find a way out. I’ll NEVER be yours Mr. Moore.”

With his mouth agape, he stares at me. “You’re so sexy.” He said, mesmerized.

“What?” I was at a loss for words.

He rose up quickly, making me flinch. “You’re so fucking sexy! I don’t know how to explain it. You’re just… ugh.” He wiggled with his fingers, trying to get out of his words, frustrated. “I just love you…” He said, blanking out.

I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, where a shade of red appeared as I stammered. “Y-You’re crazy.”

He winked. “Only for you, baby.”

I let out a strained groan, throwing my arms up walking away from him to I don’t know where. This man is unbelievable!

….

For the past few hours I walked around, exploring the house or what Mr. Moore would like to say “Getting familiar with my new home” and just like he said there was no exit which I still can’t believe otherwise how else did we get inside? Aren’t there any bookshelves or something that I can pull so that a secret door will reveal itself? And there were also no windows in the other rooms present.

I raked through my hair, frustrated, and huffed as I glanced around the bedroom where there was a king-sized bed placed. I glanced appalled at it. If he thinks we will share the same bed, then he’s dead wrong. He’s going to make acquittance with the couch.

“Baby?”

I rolled my eyes. Speak of the devil. Mr. Moore peaked in to the room and beckoned me to come to him. “Let’s eat.”

My stomach grumbled against my will at the word ‘eat’ and I blushed, clutching my stomach. Mr. Moore chuckles. “You haven’t eaten for a whole day, so that cute rumble is understandable. Come.” He reaches out his hand for me to take it.

Reluctantly, I took it and let him guide me to a set up dining table. I sat down and stared, drooling down at the bowl of tomato soup. Thinking that it may have been drugged, I glanced wearily up at my captor as he took a slurp of his soup.

He felt me staring and looked at me. “It’s not poisoned. See, I am also eating it. Do you think I will drug myself too?” He raised his eyebrows questionably.

I shifted uncomfortably, giving him a side eye. “You could have drugged only mine bowl.” I mumbled, fumbling around with the spoon.

He growls, slamming his spoon down on the table. Ripples formed in the soup from the impact. “Eat it before I shove it down your throat.” He growled threatening.

“Fair enough.” I squeaked and gulped down the soup in a matter of seconds, cursing mentally at how he could even make a simple soup like this taste so divine.

I was so into slurping down the content to notice a pair of eyes watching me intensely. I halted and looked uncomfortably at Mr. Moore, whose chin was leaning on his hand, his elbow resting on the table, smiling softly at me.

“What?” I asked uncomfortably.

“I usually love watching you eat, but seeing you eat my cooking so happily makes me really happy.”

I scoffed. Is he serious? “I eat like a pig.”

“That’s what makes you cute.” He said, obviously not listening to me. Pressing my lips into a thin line, I gave a silent eye roll and continued slurping down the soup while doing my best at ignoring his painfully hungry stare.

I put the bowl down after emptying its content. Seeing that puts Mr. Moore in action and he stood up clearing the table; bringing the dishes to the sink to wash them.

“Let me wash them.” I told him as I stood up, pushing the chair backwards in the process, feeling a bit guilty that he’s even washing the plates after cooking us a meal.

“No need, just stay there.” He said, his back turned to me and his broad shoulders moving.

I huffed and plopped back in to my seat. My chin leaning on my hand as my elbow rested on the table. Making circling motions with my fingers on the soft white fabric that was covering the furniture; letting out low grumbles, feeling the boredom entering me again.

“Oh, about that plushie toy of yours-” He began and I let out a startled gasp.

That earned me a suspicious eye-glare from my captor as he glanced over his shoulder. “Is there something wrong?” He asked, his eyebrow raised.

I let out a cough accompanied by a laughter full of awkwardness, making his eyebrow raise even more. “Nope, there’s nothing wrong at all!” I smiled, cursing myself at how my voice sounded higher than normal.

“Uh-hu.” He said, not sounding convinced at all, but still turned around and continued washing the plates.

“So what about the bear?” I asked, leaning more in his direction with my ears spits wide open.

“I put it in our room. I was planning to burn it, not liking the idea of you hugging anything else but me, however I thought you may needed some type of companion here so I brought it with us.”

I had to contain breaking out in a smile to not look even more suspicious, but I was celebrating like a lunatic on the inside. He doesn’t know what that plushie animal holds!

“Thank you.” I whispered, displaying a soft smile and feeling thankful for him for the first time.

His ear shell was turning bright red, and he covered his mouth with his balled up hand, letting out a cough. “It’s in the closet, if you want to see it.”

I stood up, shoving back the chair so enthusiastically that it almost fell over sprinting towards the room. “I’ll be back in a jiffy!” I yelled over my shoulder.

Entering the room, I yanked open the closet revealing my buddy. I turned it around revealing the zipper on its back, pulling it down with a haste. When the opening was shown revealing the filling contents, I shoved my hand inside, scrambling around in search of something.

My eyes lit up when I felt that something pulling it out.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you God, I will never doubt you again.” I whispered, looking up at the ceiling clutching the object closely to my chest.

I stared at the red glossy coated object as if it was mine lifebuoy.

I exhaled, relieved.

“I missed you my portable phone.” 

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