I've Heard Stories About You... (REPOST)

She leaned against the wall, tired of folding, organising and refolding the many salvaged covers around her. She needed something to distract her...something to keep her mind off of the emptiness this new place seemed to crowd her with, even when Vorhees was in the other room before. She frowned at the very thought of his name. It had taken her hours to get a reaction of any kind out of him. Her thoughts wandered to what it might actually take to break a man like Jason Vorhees. To get him to react to anything she wanted him to. Even though she'd never heard of him speaking in any of the stories, maybe he still could. What would it take to make him speak if it were possible? Over the next few hours, she thought of endless reactions a person could produce and ways of making them happen. She thought of them til her eyes finally closed and sleep claimed her.

She was jolted awake by the sound of her backpack being thrown to the ground at the edge of the mattress. She gasped and sat up out of pure reflex, even though she knew it could only be because of one other person than herself. He'd returned. With her backpack. She stared at it in shock and he stared at her, expectantly. She was speechless. She'd all but given up hope that her things would be returned to her and she'd be left to suffer in nothing but her underwear. She wondered if he'd rifled through it before giving it to her. Or went through it just to see what was so important that she had to have and would torture him for hours to get to, again. She slowly crawled to it and pulled it up to the mattress and opened it. It looked the same as she'd packed it. 'Thank you,' she said, reluctantly. He said nothing, only walked away into the other room.

Again, she was hit with the desire to make him react. She'd catagorised his irritation just before leaving as a victory on her part. What other things could -she- make him do? What would it be like to be the one in control of that sort of thing for once? Of course, it would all be purely instinctual and emotional on his part, as she couldn't hurt him, chained to the bed as she was. He could certainly hurt her, but what did it matter? She hadn't expected to be brought here and to die was something she'd expected hours...or even a day ago, now. Being chained to a bed with a captor that all but ignored her presence wasn't a much better solution and certainly nothing to -live- for.

She leaned up against the rail and stared at the open door he'd gone through. The sound of bones being broken and the smell of some sort of meat cooking wafted through to her nose. Her stomach growled in response. How was it that he could be in another room and cause -her- body to react, but she had to work for hours for the smallest bit of it? It didn't seem fair. She sat back against the wall and after an hour or so, he returned, bringing whatever meat he'd been cooking on a cracked plate and water in a dirty glass. Well, he certainly meant to keep her alive at the very least. That meant that she'd have plenty of time to think up reactions to get out of him. He hadn't given her any utensils and she snickered at having to eat with her hands, but she did it. He watched her, carefully, as she ate. She ate quickly, like someone that had to fight for their right to food, previously. The chewing and swallowing a methodical procedure to ingest the most amount of food in the least amount of time.

When she finished, she placed the glass and plate on the floor at the end of the bed and studied him carefully as he picked it up. The way he moved suggested that he was used to stalking. Very slow and calculated. Very aware of things around him. 'I need to pee,' she said quickly. It wasn't a lie. She really needed to since becoming aware of her body's needs again. He looked up at her, the one uncovered eye narrowing. Had he expected her to simply piss on the mattress she slept on? She tried not to shudder, if that's what he did. Just simply peed wherever he was. He put the dishes on a shelf that was too dark for her to accurately make out and she heard him open and rifle through a few drawers. he returned to her with a small metal key and unlocked the cuff around her ankle, careful not to touch a spot of her skin as he did so. Another bit of information logged itself away in her mind, for her assault.