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Two days. That was how long Riley had been in the dark room. Hart had almost forgotten about him until he saw the torn shirt on the hallway floor. He got rid of it quickly. Then he continued going on about his day, forgetting about the boy downstairs.

He wasn't doing it on purpose, he just had a lot of things to do. He cleaned the entire house all by himself, and all it took was exactly two days. There were a lot of blood stains on some parts of the house. Especially the windows. He couldn't just leave them there to dry. And not to mention that it was getting kind of dusty.

Sometime during the night, after the sun set and the moon appeared, Hart pulled his jacket on and began his well-constructed plan to torture the man named Riley. The house was soundless except for his footsteps as he marched down to the basement. Hart hadn't heard Riley ever since he shut him in the dark room, but it was expected since it was sound proof.

The entrance to the dark room wasn't always made out of technology. It once used to be just a plain door with a lock. But Hart learned the hard way that a human would do just about anything when full of fear.

And because of his past mistakes, he had to enhance the security around his house. From an outside perspective you'd think that the old-fashioned house he lived in was . . . well, old-fashioned. But behind those walls sparked technology not found in everyday homes.

The door could only be opened with a code. And what made things even more interesting, no one knew where to enter in the numbers except Hart. It was hidden, invisible, somewhere on the wall where only he knew the location.

Next to the mirror, that was where Hart entered the code. He watched himself as he did, staring at the dark circles under his luminous blue eyes. He fixed his leather gloves and gripped a knife in his right hand. Metal clicked loudly as the door began to open slowly. He positioned himself in front of it, waiting for Riley to strike at him, but he didn't.

Either he was asleep, or he was afraid. Hart didn't know which. He was used to people running out immediately and fighting him. But this time it was quiet.

Hart went in, turning on the lights. Something he noticed was that no one ever turned on the lights. They preferred to be in the dark. The switch was available to them. But in the end the darkness was always good.

He didn't see Riley at first, not with all the bodies. But he found him in the farthest corner of the room, lying in a fetal position, his back to the entrance. With the knife by his side, Hart stalked towards Riley, passing by the bodies and stepping over puddles of blood as he went.

Riley heard Hart's footsteps and quickly sat up. He must have been asleep. It would explain why he didn't freak out when the lights went on. Riley also had dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet; he had been crying. He was a mess, looking like he had fought fear and lost.

When Hart approached Riley and saw the state he was in, he calmly tucked away the knife in a white, with gold trim, handkerchief and put it away in his pocket. Hart extended out his hand to Riley, and Riley looked utterly confused. He stared stiffly at Hart's hands and made no move to grab it.

"Please, we have much to do," Hart told him, nodding at his still elevated hand.

"Stay away from me," Riley replied sharply, his voice smooth without a single hint of nervousness. He was a strong one, that Hart knew.

Hart pulled his hand back, forming it into a fist and hearing the leather rubbing together. He had to remind himself of what he was doing, why he had taken Riley in the first place. So enough with the chattering, it was time to work.

Of course, Riley tried hard to push Hart away. But Hart was strong. He grabbed Riley easily and dragged him across the large room, all while Riley kicked, scratched and punched Hart. As soon as both of them were out of the dark room, Riley managed to pull away from Hart's strong grip and scrambled to his feet, raising his fists to protect himself. But he froze where he was, because next to Hart, on the operation table, laid a girl with her mouth stitched shut. She was alive, staring at Riley with panic in her eyes.

Riley stared for too long. Hart used it to his advantage and took Riley again, pinning him down on the ground and cuffing his hands together. Once Riley was secured, Hart pulled him up and forced him on a chair nearby and strapped his legs so that he couldn't escape.

"Here's what's going to happen," Hart began as he walked to the closet. He opened it with a key he had in his pocket and sighed deeply at his options. He picked randomly and ended up with a saw. "I'm going to kill this girl and you're going to watch."

"Let her go! What is wrong with you?!" Riley shouted at him.

The girl on the table whimpered quietly as the tears rolled down her face. She couldn't move an inch, like Riley, she was strapped in tightly with barely any room to breathe.

Hart didn't respond as he moved back to the girl, hovering the saw over her body, letting it drag down her stomach to her thighs. She tried to scream but the stitches wouldn't let her. Her lips began to bleed as she tried to break free from the stitches, ignoring the pain that struck her once one of them snapped.

"What should I cut off first?" Hart asked the girl. With the sharp edges of the saw, he pointed at her left arm. "An arm? Or how about a leg?" He circled around the table until he was behind her head. He looked into her eyes one last time and thrust the saw into her neck, slicing it open. Blood gushed out, spraying him in the face and his clothes. "Or maybe your neck."

That was all it took for Riley to realize that this was genuinely real. It was happening. It wasn't a nightmare. It was real.

He tried really hard not to show the killer that he was weak. But how could anyone prepare for this? He cried, screamed and begged to God that someone would come and save him. But somewhere deep inside he knew no one was coming. He was going to die here. All because he couldn't foresee the danger behind this charming, good-looking guy that used his traits to lure people in. Or at least that was what he thought he did.

Riley averted his eyes from the girl as she slowly and painfully bled to death. He wasn't expecting it to happen so suddenly. He was expecting slow agonizing torture. But he soon figured out that he was the one being tortured.

Riley shut his eyes and tried to mentally escape, but the gushing and the spurting kept bringing him back, like getting pulled by the current of the ocean, bringing him away from the safety of the shore. When Riley opened his eyes again, his body jerked back. In front of him, Hart held the girl's head. He couldn't breathe properly, his heart felt like it was about to explode in his chest.

Riley thought that Hart's blank expression was scarier. He couldn't comprehend how someone so beautiful with a smile to die for could turn so evil in a matter of seconds.

"Let's let her rest now, shall we?" Hart closed the girl's eyes and placed her head near her body. He then proceeded to push the table into the dark room to dump her body with the others. When he returned, Riley had his head down as he whimpered desperately.

"There's no need to cry, I'm not going to kill you," Hart reassured the weeping boy.

"Yet," Riley added.

Hart smiled, something he never did outside the house. As soon as he realized, he turned away from Riley to put away the bloody saw, thinking of cleaning it later. He grabbed a cloth from the nearby sink and drowned it in water, bringing it back to the table to wipe it clean.

"Are you ready?" Hart asked when the table was spotless.

Riley didn't look up. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to block Hart. Most of all trying to avoid thinking of what was going to happen next.

Carefully and with patience, Hart began to untie the knots on Riley. As soon as the last rope dropped on the floor, Riley kneed Hart in the chin and then kicked him hard in the stomach as he fell backwards. Riley got up and tossed the chair aside, fidgeting with the handcuffs as Hart moaned in pain and bled yet again from his mouth.

Riley dashed up the stairs with his hands still tied behind his back. At the top of the stair case he easily slid over the handcuffs so his hands were back in front of him. The exit door was unlocked, so he ran as fast as possible, thinking what a horrible killer Hart was.

"Get back here!" Hart growled, and his voice was so eerie that it sent shivers down Riley's spine.

Like that's gonna happen, Riley thought.

Much to Riley's dismay, the front door was locked. There were five locks on it, including a pad with numbers. There was no way he could open them, so he headed back to the main hall, running around the stairs to find the backdoor. It was easy to find it, but it was locked as well. The whole place was tightly locked, guaranteeing that no one could ever escape.

Frustrated, he headed upstairs quietly, tipping toeing all the way to the top. The windows were locked, bedroom door locked, everything was locked. He contemplated crashing through a window but they seemed unbreakable. He didn't know how, they just looked like they were made out of diamonds. You couldn't even clearly see through them. They had to be made of some sort of material for this very same reason.

Riley was trapped in the house with a serial killer. There was no way out, not that he could see. Not to mention the handcuffs limited him. He still couldn't hear Hart, maybe he was still writhing in pain.

Luckily, he found a bathroom he could lock himself in. But from all the horror movies he had seen, he knew that wouldn't last long. It always seemed as if the doors were made out of cardboard. But this was real life, and Hart had weapons.

The window in the bathroom was barbed. There was nothing he could use in there for protection either. Except . . . the mirror! He quickly slammed the metal part of the cuffs against the mirror till it shattered into pieces. He grabbed the biggest one from the sink and tested it out. It was sharp, a good size, it should help him against Hart. He prepared by waiting behind the door.

When it seemed like forever passed, he finally heard footsteps. They weren't rushed or hard against the wooden floor. It was quiet and diligent. The first place Hart checked was the bathroom, like he could see through walls. But maybe he just knew that the bathroom was the only unlocked place in the house.

He opened the door gently, not harsh like Riley had expected. Riley waited a few seconds, waited to hear that footstep enter the bathroom, to jab the piece of glass into Hart. But Hart knew. He grabbed Riley's chained hand as soon as it appeared. Hart stared at him with dead eyes and removed the piece of glass from Riley's trembling hands. Hart was so strong that his wrists felt like they were being crushed by pounds and pounds of weight.

Hart pulled him out of the bathroom and threw him on the floor, revenge kicking him. The cuffed boy coughed and gasped for air, carelessly crawling away from the man holding the glass in his hand.

"Why can't you understand?" Hart asked softly, but then raised his voice, screaming, "YOU CAN'T EVER LEAVE!"

Riley was too tired, he was in pain, his head was buzzing with a million questions. He couldn't give up that easily, but at the same time he just wanted it to be over.

This time, Hart walked much faster, much more angrier. He grabbed Riley by his hair and pushed him down the stairs, watching him roll dangerously without a single emotion on his face. Once Riley was groaning at the foot of the stairs, Hart went down only to grab him by the hair again.(If he had a shirt on, then he'd easily just grab it. But his hair was simpler.)

Hart took him to the basement again. He had to fight to strap him into the table like he had done to the girl. Riley's arms, hands, legs and waist were now locked in. Hart was becoming frustrated with the way Riley kept fighting. Everyone else always gave up as soon as they knew they were going to die. But Riley . . . he kept going.

He stared at the glass in his hand, then at Riley's body.

"Just do it. Get it over with," Riley urged.

They both locked eye contact, neither looking away. They just stared at each other for a while, knowing what was about to happen next.

Hart gave Riley's stomach a quick cut with the glass, his eyes never leaving Riley's. He watched as Riley hissed at the stinging pain from where the blood now slowly pooled. Hart walked to the other side of Riley and cut his stomach again, this time deeper. Instead of watching the blood drip down to the table, Hart bent down, dipped his head and licked the blood oozing out. This seemed to alert Riley, it . . . made him more afraid. But Hart was watching him again, and that was not what he saw in his eyes.

"You like it, don't you?" Hart said in an accusing tone. "I bet it turns you on."

"You're sick. You're fucking sick."

Hart planted soft kisses, then licked the blood on his lips. His lips were now a darker pink, making him look silly. He wiped the last remaining blood on his lips with his sleeve, tossing the glass in a bucket next to him.

"It's time to sleep now," Hart said, not particularly at Riley, just out loud for him to know that he was included. He got behind the table and began to push Riley towards the dark room, but Riley began to scream in panic.

"Please, please! I don't want to go back in there! Please! I beg you! If you're going to kill me, do it. But if you aren't, don't put me back in there!" Riley cried, his eyes tearing up at the thought of being in there again. He barely survived the two days he spent in it. He felt like the bodies were alive, watching him, whispering to him, most of all he felt them touching him. He knew it was all in his head, but he couldn't stop it anyway.

Hart stopped. He froze and looked at Riley, caressed his pretty face, pushed his hair back and kissed his forehead.

"Very well. I will leave you here for tonight," he told Riley, pulling him back and setting him in the middle of the room. He went to the mirror and entered the number for the dark room to close. As it closed, he walked towards the strapped man and said, "If you scream, no one will hear you, not even I. If you try to escape, you won't be able to leave this room. If I find out you tried to leave, I will hurt you."

The lights in the basement blinked off. Now the only source of vision Riley had was from the light coming out of the door at the top of the stairs. Hart stepped in front of the light, blocking it as he stared down at Riley, observing him. The man didn't say another word and then left.

Riley said good bye to the light as the basement door shut, and said hello to the dark once again.

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[Author's Message]: Not a very long chapter in my opinion, but still something! So if anyone complains, I will slap you and get Hart to your house. LOL. I really hope you guys like this story >.< It's really hard to write it. It's sick, every single chapter. It's dark, every single chapter. There's so much more, you don't know half of it. You won't be prepared. So far it will be two books, not sure if there will be a third. But yeah. :) Please PLEASE vote. Remember this is rated R so it needs your support. And leave an awesome comment for a chance to get the next chapter dedicated to you! Don't you want a dedication from moi? O.O Then leave comments! LOTS! LOTS! What are you thinking? TELL ME. Do you want more? Will you continue reading? EEK. (BTW, check out the banner I made on the side of this page)