I had to have been at least two days that Nathan had left me there in that room, It began to smell of urine. His footsteps were actually good to hear at this point. My whole body was cramping, though I don't know from hunger or being in a small space. As the came closer I heard his unlock the door and the light peeked in.
"What the hell," I yelled as I leaped toward him. He is stronger then me and he restrained bot of my arms.
"How long were you gone?" I asked.
"Three day," he said nonchalantly as he led me up the stairs.
When we got upstairs I could smell food. My stomach growled at the aroma of burgers and french fries. He pushed me down in the chair at the table. He did not leave while I ate, he stood guarding me.
"After your done you can shower," he tells me.
At this point I had become bold, I was locked in a basement for three days how much worse could it get?
"What are you planning on doing? Keeping me locked up forever?" I asked
"No just until I get bored with just like the others," he replied
"Others?" I gulped
"You think you are my first?" he laughed.
I looked down to the table, I could only imagine where this was going to end. I was never going to see my mother again, I was never going to be free.
"What about my mom?" I asked him
"What about her?" He says
"She will come looking for me," I said
"I guess I will just have to tell her you left me and I don't know where you are," he said arrogantly
"All my things are here ," I cried
"I'll burn them," he smirked.
He forced me to the shower and turned on the water. I admit it felt good on my body and he actually let me take my shower alone. With the exception of him watching me, but he didn't put his hands on me. He gave me a towel and handed me some fresh clothing.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I ask him.
"Well Mandy the doctors call it paranoid delusional schizophrenia," Nathan rolls his eyes. He takes a deep breath," Schizophrenia is defined as a chronic mental illness in which a person loses touch with reality. They often hear voices, which will be my excuse if I am ever caught. Truth is I like to be violent, the rush of your fear brings me pleasure. These pills they put me on make me feel half asleep. When I'm not on them i feel alive, and I feel I have purpose."
I couldn't speak, I just stood there starring at him in horror. How could I not see the symptoms, his mood swings, the violence and the lack of emotion. How was he able to hide his meds from me this whole time? He was such a sweetheart, and he made he fall in love with him.
"How many have there been?" I asked
"Lots, to many to count," he replies.
" Would you like to hear how I killed them?" he asks
Of course I didn't want to know, and I didn't want to be his next victim either. I had to think of a way to use his illness against him. I needed a way to make him trust me, a way to use his paranoia to get free. But what? I needed to do as he says until I think of a plan, enduring it half willing is much better then fighting it.
If I could trust him to left me roam the house, I could find his pills and put them into his food. He would start to grasp back to reality and I would find a moment to make a run for it. So I was going to play him at his own game.
" I missed you where did you go," I ask him.
At first it caught him off guard but he replied, "Well first I had to get rid of Cindy's body, then I visited some friends in Kansas City, and oh yeah I had to make an appearance at the Casino grand opening. Then I came back here to you."
I tried not to look appalled when he mentioned Cindy, and I was trying to keep a smile on my face.
"Can we watch a movie together?" I ask him.
He just stares at me as if he is trying to read my mind, and all the while I am keeping it cool. If he knew I was fooling with his mind it would only send him in a rage. I would be back in the basement again for sure, and this time he may leave for weeks at at time.
Finally he replied, " I guess that would be OK, you have been cooped up in this house."