With nothing to do in the pitch black of the room Desmond had time to think. After a while it came to him that if the police tried to contact him and didn’t get an answer they would send someone around to his place to check up on him. When they found him gone they would then think he had fled and was therefore the killer. He wondered if his captor had kidnapped him for that very reason.
The wait seemed to go on forever and with the stale hot air in the room he soon became drowsy. He tried to remain standing but his legs began to hurt and he had no choice but to slump to the floor. He reasoned that he could stand up quick when he heard the murderer approach.
More time passed and he fought hard to keep his eyes open but sleep finally overtook him. He awoke to a foot prodding his ribs.
“Now Desmond, are you behind the door because you thought you were going to get the jump on me? Tsk, Tsk.”
There was now a light on in the room and Desmond saw his captor for the first time. He was a short man with thinning hair, a goatee and intense black eyes. He noticed the stare.
“Not what you expected? Appearances can be deceiving Desmond.”
He had a pistol in the waistband of his trousers. It probably would have been futile if not fatal to attack. Desmond tried not to stare at the gun.
“I don’t think it’s fair that you know my name but I don’t know yours.”
The killer went and sat in a chair near the table and motioned for Desmond to take one a few feet away.
“I suppose that’s true. Not that fair has anything to do with life in general. Still, you may call me Hank.”
“Okay. So, Hank, you want to tell me why I’m here?”
Hank shook his head. “You really don’t pay attention. That’s unfortunate. You’re here because I’ve decided to liberate you Desmond. To reveal your true nature to you. To set you free.”
Desmond let the words sink in for a moment. He had a sick feeling he knew what it meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted confirmation but it would come eventually anyway.
“You think I’m like you. That I write the stories I write because I want to…”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. The light that came up in Hank’s eyes confirmed his worst fear.
“Oh, come on Hank. You don’t really think that. Look, you’ve got me all wrong.”
Hank shook his head back and forth. “It’s not something I think Desmond. It’s something I know. Soon you will too.”
Before Desmond could retort he stood up and motioned for Desmond to do the same. He pulled the pistol from his waist and held it down low but with purpose.
“It’s time to go. We’re going to have a grand time you and me.”
He waved the pistol toward the door and Desmond moved towards it with reluctance, his eyes darting everywhere looking for some chance to escape. Hank seemed to be reading his mind.
“Relax Desmond. You’re going on a great adventure. A journey to an awakening.”
He guided him to a garage where a black van sat. He made Desmond get in the back and then handcuffed him to a support beam. Hank got into the drivers seat and used a remote to open the door.
They drove for the better part of an hour in the dark moonless night. As they turned down a street off the main road Hank killed the headlights and glided to a stop by a curb. He turned to Desmond.
“Now you just wait here while I go subdue the lamb. I’ll come get you when we’re ready to begin.”
Desmond watched in horror as Hank walked to a darkened house and went around the back. His pulse was racing and sweat began to pour down his face.
Part 8 Tomorrow