Cold Sight Extra Sensory Agents by Parrish Leslie

Author:Parrish, Leslie [Parrish, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: [Extra Sensory Agents-1]
Published: 2011-01-14T19:11:00+00:00

Saturday, 12:25 p.m.

“Do you feel better now, dearest?”

Vonnie didn’t answer right away, not wanting him to realize how alert and aware she was of what was going on around her. After having left her alone since last night, the monster had returned an hour ago—she’d heard a car pull up outside. Now that he wasn’t drugging her, she was much more aware of what was going on, and was able to prepare herself for his arrival.

He’d come in, offering her another energy drink through a straw. Then, apparently convinced by her apathy and listlessness that she wasn’t much of a threat, he’d gone a step farther. He’d actually cut the tape away from her entire mouth, ripping it off her cheeks. Judging by the pain, he’d taken some skin along with it. But she hadn’t cared. She could breathe—really breathe—at last. The air was dank and stale, reeking, but she drew in deep mouthfuls of it, absolutely delighted, though careful not to show just how panicked the taped mouth had made her. Because then he’d just put it back on.

“Ahh, feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, a smile in his high-pitched voice to match the one on his awful, cheerful mask.

“Yeah, thanks,” she muttered, knowing he expected gratitude.

He patted her head, like she was some kind of dog. “You should have told me yesterday was your birthday,” he said, reproaching her. “I might have taken it off then, as a special gift from me to you.”

Her birthday. Her last one, she had no doubt.

He reached for a bowl of water and a rag and began wiping the blood off her cheeks. Working carefully, he acted like he actually gave a damn whether he hurt her or not, which was funny since he’d caused every one of her injuries.

“Poor little girl,” he cooed.

The man was insane. One minute murderous, the next nurturing. But always underneath the surface was utter insanity.

His mood seemed good—as good as a psychotic killer’s mood could be, she supposed. Since his return, he’d been chuckling and muttering about how grand a time he’d had at the football game. How much fun it had been, how entertaining. And how much she’d been missed.

Yeah, sure. Her own mother probably wouldn’t notice she was gone until the first of the month when she came scratching for Vonnie’s paycheck so she could pay the rent.

She couldn’t contain the bitterness, thinking that her eighteenth birthday had arrived, and she wouldn’t be able to finally flip her mother the finger and move into a place of her own.

“I think I’ll sit with you awhile,” he said once he’d finished cleaning the blood off her cheeks. “If you’re good, I might let you get up and use the potty. You must really need it.”

If she had anything left in her that could feel embarrassment, maybe she would have, since he knew she’d been chained flat on her back for days and was just taunting her. Funny, though, embarrassment was long gone. Survival was the only thing that remained.

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