Opening your eyes took way too much energy to do so.

Your bones ached as you tried to sit up; vision blurring around the edges.

Where the fuck were you? Through squinted eyes, you focused in on your dim surroundings.

A bedroom. Not yours. But who’s?

Nice. Clean. Neat. Polished. Not a singular thing out of place. Whoever’s bedroom this was, you could tell they were a perfectionist.

”Good. You’re awake.”

The sound of a deep voice sent your body flinching; your head whipping to the source. When you went to move; your wrists burned. A sizzling hot pain shot down your arm as you winced.

Your gaze immediately shot down and realization dawned upon you that you were bound to this bed. Rope along your ankles and your wrists; neatly tied—keeping you stuck.

“Sorry. You were a kicker,” Ghost hummed—matter of factly. But, he didn’t reveal himself. No; you could only faintly make out the outline of his body. Broad shoulders and a glint on his face when the shadows danced around him just right; he was in a mask, it seemed. Your heart thudded against your chest; breaths coming in ragged pants.

“I’m not here to hurt you. If I wanted to, I would’ve done so days ago,” he said; accent thick.

Days. You tugged again; the pain being masked by pure fear and adrenaline.

Finally, out of the shadows he stepped. And you wished he stayed there.

You gulped as he got closer to the bed, extending a gloved hand to you. Through gritted teeth; you let out a disapproving grunt and tried to move from him—but it was no use. His gentle hand reached toward, and he slowly stroked your cheek.

Chills licked down your spine, and he stared at you through the holes of his mask—hazel eyes pinning you in place.

“Are you going to make this hard for me?” He asked. Though, it didn’t feel like a question. With the way his voice remained monotone, it seemed almost like a statement—a test.