Serial Killer
Alicia woke up. She felt like she had a hangover. As she opened her eyes, she remembered the car crash. She saw what looked like the inside of a small camping trailer. All her pain vanished and was replaced with fear.
She was wide awake.
She sat up in the bed she was in, and drew her feet up. She felt a dragging and heard the sound of a metal chain. She yanked the covers off and noticed her left ankle. On it was a leather restraint cuff with a fleece lining attached to a long metal chain, secured with a padlock. The other end of the chain was fasted with a padlock to the kitchen table leg.
Her heart pounded so hard she shook from the force of it. She had never been so scared in her life.
She glanced down at herself, she was no longer wearing her work uniform. All her cuts and scrapes had been washed clean, and were now scabbing over. She wore a plain white male undershirt and cut off blue jeans for shorts. She doubled checked, but she wore a exercise bra and cotton underwear.
She was confused. Who would do this? Why? You hear about this sort of thing. Urban legend type stuff. It happened to a friend of a friends sister. Rare cases would crop up on the news.
The side door opened and light poured into the trailer.
Alicia instinctively retreated to the far end of the bed, as far as the chain would allow.
Andy walked in and closed the door.
Alicia shook with fear, unable to speak. She stared at the muscular, bald man. He was dressed in blue jeans and light brown cowboy boots. His shirt was a basic long sleeve blue button up with no designs, just two front pockets and a collar.
Andy said nothing. He walked over to the ice chest cooler and pulled out a beer. He leaned against the remaining wall from the kitchenette and watched the girl quiver helplessly in fear.