/Samantha/
I heaved a sigh and groped about for something to say that could make this situation better, but what do you say to a sociopath when you don't want to upset them? "You broke my arm, Blake." I spoke in a whisper.
He appeared to be going through a lot of stress as he buried his hands in his hair and gave a nearly growling expression. "That happened by complete chance! I'd had a few drinks, and while I didn't intend to cause you any harm, it just so happened that it did." He wept, demonstrating his obvious annoyance with my comment.
Oh my, I really needed to just change the subject because the fact that I kept bringing it up was only making him more angry at me! "I am certain of that. It's great, let's just forget it." I replied while forcing a phony grin across my face and trying to speak through a partially congested nose. "Why don't you take me on a tour of the place or something?"
His features began to relax, and he smiled that achingly beautiful smile that had drawn my interest to him in the first place when we had first met. "Yeah, I'd enjoy that. Let's get started in the kitchen, and I'll take care of making the drinks and other preparations. You hungry? "'Are you ready?' he said as he grasped my hand and started dragging me along the corridor.
How long had I been in this place at this point? Were they getting close, the police? Oh, God, please let them arrive before Henry does so we can celebrate! I made a valiant effort to get the thought out of my mind that Henry may barge in here all by himself, beat Blake senseless, and then be hauled away in handcuffs or anything like that.
"Jailbait? I said are you hungry." It just took a gentle squeeze of his palm for me to realize that I needed to stop daydreaming and focus on the here and now if I wanted to be successful in preventing him from being anxious. Relax, Samantha; everything is in order, and Henry will kiss everything better tonight and embrace you when you wake up screaming because this whole waking horror is just a nightmare.
"Umm, not right now, but after we've looked around, maybe we could prepare supper together or something?" "Umm, no, not right now." I recommended. That would be a good way to waste some time!
He beamed broadly as he retrieved two cans of Coke from the refrigerator, handed me one of them, and gestured enthusiastically all around the space. Before dragging me back out of the room, he said, "Kitchen." I didn't even have time to look around before we were pulled back through the door.
He indicated the space with a wave of his hand and referred to it as the lounge. When he pulled me back out again, I let out an internal groan since I knew that this was going to be the shortest house tour in the history of house tours. My fantastic strategy for passing the time was a complete failure.
After what was probably less than a minute, he halted in front of a different door and said, "And this.... this one's my room." He gave me a sly grin as he unlocked the door by inserting a key into the latch.
The very idea of entering his room caused a jerk in my entire body; why didn't I think this through before I did it? Why did I request a tour anyway? Oh sh*t, I just realized that maybe he entirely misinterpreted what I said and thought I wanted to see his room or something! Samantha, you amaze me with your level of idiocy at times. Damn it.
When he smiled at me, I felt so queasy that I wondered if I was going to literally throw up all over him. He had no idea what was about to happen. He opened the door for me and motioned for me to go in first as he pushed it open. I forced myself to cross over the threshold despite the fact that I was sobbing uncontrollably.
I simply begged that he would start waving his hand around like he did in every other room so that we could leave and go make supper or anything like that. My focus suddenly shifted to his bed, and I bit my lower lip so hard that I bled, pushing myself not to become overcome with panic and pass out or do something else that would leave me wide open and defenseless in his presence.
His room was nothing special; it was just plain and painted a royal blue. It was a touch messy, but it was not too far from how Henry's room used to look when he was living with his parents.
As his hand gently caressed the small of my back, he questioned me, "Do you like it?" as I did my best not to react negatively.
I smiled and nodded in agreement before saying, "Yeah, it's lovely."
He gave me a jovial grin, and as he moved closer to me, I observed that his eyes also wandered to the bed; I thought to myself, oh God, here it is. He mumbled to me, "You didn't see my favorite part yet," while looking at me with such intent that it caused my heart to stop because of the passion that was evident on his face.
His favourite part? I looked around the room once more, this time wondering what it could be, thinking it may be something like a video game console or something else that would be characteristic of a boy.
He laughed as he grabbed hold of my shoulders and turned me around so that I was facing the wall behind me, which was the wall on which the door was. My blood began to become ice cold, and I felt my heart cease beating; this was a lot more serious than I had anticipated. I was in a lot of trouble, and I wanted to make sure that Henry didn't come anywhere near Blake, since this guy was even crazier than the two of us had given him credit for being.
I found that I was unable to tear my gaze away from the wall. There were photographs of me everywhere; however, it wasn't just me in the pictures, which was the most terrifying part; Henry was also in the pictures. There were images of us together smiling or hugging, but in each one, Henry's face had been either burned out leaving a jagged hole or scratched out leaving it white. There were also pictures of us laughing together. I recognized him immediately due to the fact that we were in the same location as his attire.
These photographs were not of us when we were children; rather, they were of current activities that we had participated in. There was one of us at the football game, one of us at the grocery, one of us at the movies, and damn, there was even one of us loading paint cans into Henry's trunk, so I knew that one had been taken inside the past seven days.
When he started taking images of me, how long had he been following me? It's crazy that I hadn't noticed him before because he must have been right behind me the whole time. The pictures of me or Henry in our apartment were the ones that worried me the most. There was even one taken from the street outside that showed Henry closing the drapes in just his boxers, indicating that he must have been getting ready for bed at the time. That indicated that Blake was camped out in front of our apartment building at night with a camera in hand, simply waiting, and he was aware that we lived together.