A Thousand Snowflakes

The Monster

“Good moooorrrning! Wake the f**k up.”

Sloan jumped immediately at the sound of the monster’s voice as he came down the stairs. Her eyes flashed open as her body jolted from sleep, and her knees kicked as she backed herself against the wall, curling inward on herself.

Her eyes darted over to August, who was staring with eyes full of black hatred at the monster.

Another day had passed since she’d first woken up to August— and they hadn’t spoken since she admitted to him she didnt know why he was taken. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence— they just didn’t know each other, and didn’t care to. Sloan preferred it that way. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her— he would have by now— and she couldn’t afford to have hope.

The monster descended the stairs, his lustful eyes scanning over her form. They narrowed. “Take that jacket off,” he growled.

Sloan scrambled to do as he asked.

“She’s f*****g freezing to death down here, you psychotic piece of s**t,” August spat venomously.

The monster started towards August, but Sloan stood on her unsteady feet and heaved the hoodie at him. “H-here.”

It caught his attention. He stopped, eyes roaming over her body. She knew the white shift dresses he gave her were nearly see through. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from his eyes.

He turned his eyes to August. “Come on,” he grunted excitedly, “you’re telling me you haven’t thought about f*****g her?”

August’s stomach turned, and he felt nauseous. “You’re a sick motherfucker.”

Sloan started hyperventilating when the monster stormed to approach August, reaching up to cover her eyes. She knew what was coming next.

The monster was not a small man. Over six feet tall with a huge, hulking frame and a fat gut, the man exuded sheer strength despite being overweight. His beady black eyes and curly, greasy brown hair made Sloan want to gag. He had a smell like rotten eggs and onions, and Sloan hated it.

But instead of hitting August, he stood directly in front of him, pulled the gun out of his waistband, and aimed it directly at Sloan’s face.

She paled. He’d never pointed a gun directly at her before. Her hands shook as she stared at it.

August raised his hands in surrender, panicked eyes darting between the gun and Sloan.

“You’ll do what I say, when I say, to who I say,” the monster spat. “Or I’ll blow her brains out and make you watch while I f**k her corpse.”

Sloan’s breath came in gasps as she pleaded with August with her eyes. Please don’t make him angry. Please.

His jaw ticked as he stared at the monster, his liquid brown eyes full of hatred. He gritted his teeth and said nothing.

The monster lowered the gun, a smirk on his face.

He tossed the brown paper bag he was holding towards Sloan, and it landed on her mattress. She didn’t dare move to get it.

“Food,” he grunted. “I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“What about water?” Sloan asked him quietly. “It’s almost empty.”

He glared at her before nodding, snatching the jug from the corner and taking it with him.

Neither she nor August moved an inch while they waited for the monster to return. Sloan could see wheels turning in August’s head, and she pleaded with him again with her eyes to please not do anything stupid. His jaw was locked.

The monster came down long enough to toss the jug of water, now full, back beside the useless sink. He left without saying another word, the lock clicking into place behind him.

Sloan closed her eyes, letting out a slow exhale. She did what she always did to calm herself down since she’d been in the basement— she started counting backwards from fifty, tapping her fingers together silently.

She got all the way to thirty before her eyes popped open, and she looked over at August with calm eyes.

“What’s your favorite food?”