FicWad

Ryan sat alone at his table. It was typical of him. No one was going to visit him anytime soon. And even if there was the rare person who would come knocking at his door, they wouldn't last too long. They never did. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep himself together.
Sometimes the world just wanted to seem as if it were spinning. It made him dizzy. Thinking of every rotation, going over and over and over and over again. He held still, the sound of a clock ticking in the background being accompanied with the dripping of the sink. And then there was a scream. He gave another small sigh, standing. The sound of his wooden chair scraping across the wooden floor.
He walked across the kitchen, his footsteps echoing in the empty building. He picked up his black duffel bag, walking to the back door in the kitchen. The wooden floor creaked with every step. He opened the door, walking out into the cool air, showing the end of fall. The wind picked up, crumpled leaves slipping into the kitchen before he allowed the door to slam shut. He walked over to the cellar door, dropping the duffel bag right by it. He took the string that was tied around his neck off taking the key that was tied onto it in his hand. The silver surface shined in the sun blinding him momentarily.
He picked up the lock, the metal freezing his hand. He continued to hold it even with the slight pain. He put the key in the lock, allowing it to fall limply on the ground. The screams got louder as he allowed the wooden doors to open. He grabbed his duffel bag once more, going down into the cellar. The steps had dead leaves and dirt on them, the layers being disturbed with every step he took. The doors closed as he continued to walk, a small smile playing on his lips.
He went down the long corridor, going past the different closed doors until he came to the one the noise was coming from. He unzipped his duffel bag, fishing his keys out of it. He unlocked the door, allowing it to swing open. There was a cage in it, a women trapped inside. She was screaming, the noise being loud enough to wake the dead. She screamed louder as he walked into the room, begging for help that would never come. Ryan smirked at her, walking over to her cage.
She shut up the moment he stood by the bars, regretting the sounds that had escaped her mouth. He pulled out a bottle, taking a small white pill out of it.
"Open up, love." Ryan let out a crooked laugh as she started to back up to the large brick wall behind her. "Now I was just trying to be nice." He muttered as he stared at her, tilting his head to one side. "But I guess you want it rough." He unlocked the door, walking into the small cage like room. She slid down the wall she had backed up in, muttering her pleas to escape. He made his way over to her, his being towering over her small and somewhat mangled body.
He grabbed her face, shoving the pill in between her lips. He used one hand to hold her mouth shut, the other staying on her throat to see if she had swallowed it. She started to shake, trying to move her head away from his hand. He laughed, his hair falling partially in his face. Her hands went to his arms, grasping on them, her nails digging into his flesh. The nails on her face dug into her skin, going deeper than any of the ones she could do on his arms.
"Swallow it." She nodded, finally giving in. He moved his hands from her mouth. "Was that so hard?" She was a crying mess, her makeup smudged and streaming down her face. Her hair was a light red color tangled in a way that was only possible from days of staying locked up. She was thin, her clothing dirty tattered and torn. Her big brown eyes scanned Ryan, trying to see into him, to tell what his next move was going to be.
"What are you going to do to me?" Her voice was weak, shaky from her crying and in all honesty, pathetic.
"Oh sweetie," Ryan said as he put his hand on her chin, lifting her face so she was looking in his eyes. "I'm going to drown you." He dropped her chin, walking over to his bag once again. "But not today. I have a better way of shutting you up."
"Why won't you let me go? You know my family will find you. My fathers a powerful man." Ryan glanced over at her before pulling out a few items from his bag.
"You know what?" Ryan said as he started to walk back over to her. "If your family REALLY wanted to find you and were actually looking for you, don't you think they would have manged to find you by now?"
"Why are you doing this?" Her voice tried to sound demanding, but it wasn't even close to being strong enough. Her body had practically become limp, her whole body wasting the little energy she had left to say those final words. Ryan sat down next to her, looping big black thread into a large needle.
"There's this kind of beauty that only seems to happen when someone is taking their final breaths." He used one hand to keep her lips closed, pushing the needle through the skin under her bottom lip before taking it out of the top one. "It's hard to describe, but each face looks different. Some look panicked and distressed, others look calm and accepting. It's just this sort of subtle...I can't explain it to you." He took the needle, threading her lips together once more. When he pulled the string a little to hard the skin on her lip ripped, making it to where he had to start that stitch again. He repeated it a few times, watching the blood run down as her body attempted to squirm under him. The pain made her breathing race, though the rest of her body had become immobilized. "But dying is like an art form. Different people look different, some like ballet dancers, others like a painting." He paused for another moment, her lips completely sewn together, the black thread giving a stark contrast as blood ran from the small holes. He looked at her fear filled eyes before standing, walking back over to his bag. "Sometimes I feel like an artist, my instrument just happens to be the tool of death."
He put his tools back in his bag, picking it up. He walked outside of the cage, closing and looking the prison like cell. "I'll come to check on you tomorrow." He gave a small smile before walking out the door, locking it with it's rightful key. He came out of the cellar door, picking up the cold lock. He hoked it into place, staring out at the deserted scenery that stayed behind him.
The sun was setting, turning the mountains that towered in the sky to a blended red and orange over the grey rocks. The sky was a deep blue before it blended to the same red and pink as the setting sun, the white clouds contrasting against the vibrant colors. A stray dog walked up to Ryan, sniffing him before licking his hand. Ryan smiled a genuine smile walking to the door. The brown dog followed him, walking inside the small kitchen.
"You must be thirsty, aren't you?" Ryan said as he got a bowl out of the cupboard. He filled it with water from the faucet, setting it down on the ground for the big dog to lap it up. Ryan sat down on the ground in front of it, taking in it's coat to recognize it's breed. A light golden brown on top, with a white underneath starting under the muzzle. It looked like a chinook, only about the size of a half-grown pup.
"You're a pretty thing." Ryan gently pet the dog on the head, allowing his hand to run down it's spine. "Why aren't you somewhere cooler? You belong somewhere cooler." The dog raised it's head, looking directly in the eyes of Ryan. He nodded, petting the dog once more as it went to get another drink.
"My parents didn't want me either." He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his head on them. "They always said so. They told me "Ryan, you were a mistake. If I could take back the day that you were conceived, I would." But it's okay. Dad died of alcohol poisoning. Mum died of a heart attack the day she found him." The dog rested his head next to Ryan's hip, curling up to the young man. "Everyone goes through their own torture. It's only fair."


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This is just a teaser. I don't know if I'll post anymore for this story or not. If I do end up continuing it, then it will most definitely have some extremely violent chapters. And I won't update it as often as some of the other stories.
I know I shouldn't be starting on something new when I still have so many stories that I haven't even updated in a while. So to help me figure out which ones to work on just tell me your favorite story of mine in a review and I'll take the most popular ones and update them the most often. Everyone will win.
-xoxo Pansy.