"Give me a challenge."

Luna was unwavering as she spoke. Bottom rested on a chair in which the legs of it were about to fall off, and hands tied behind her back tightly with a cloth that was digging into her already bruised wrists. She looked up at her captor, unable to escape from him for about five days now. The man towered over her with his lifeless eyes that stared back at her own dark hazel eyes. Silence fell around them, before he spoke again, before lashing out at her by connecting his fist to her stomach.

"Silly girl. Ask and you shall receive." Venom dripped off his tongue, and Luna could sense the infamy that was itching to be released from his mouth. Despite being held up in his dungeon and the skin torn apart around her ankles from the chains that held her down to prevent her from causing ruckus in the floor below his actual apartment, she didn't give up on being defiant. Maybe there was no way in hell she would get out alive, but if she could annoy the fuck out of him - that was enough for her. Her lip was busted, and just last night she put herself in the dangerous position of having her slit throat, but he seemed to enjoy this all too much. Having a punching bag to let out his anger. It was like a little girl getting a new baby doll for her birthday, and then as time passes - she grows bitter and eventually starts twisting the heads of all her dolls only to be thrown away in the end. That's what it was like being enslaved by him.

He had no consideration for how she felt, what she thought, or what she said. 

If she ever did get rescued, there was one thing that Luna wanted to speak on about him. He didn't know how to give a good challenge. How to make her really bite at the core of her own insanity and just sink into self-pity. Truth was, she was bored, and was looking for a good reason why she shouldn't just herself instead. It was obvious that he wasn't going to kill her though. She was just too good to pass up. It was satisfying to him how he could hit her multiple times against the head with the barrel of his gun and make the side of her head bleed without her screaming out in pain. The man was unaware that she her insides were starting to eat itself from the neglect he had been showing. Not giving her any water to hydrate herself and no food to keep her awake for longer than twenty minutes. Luna wondered why he would get mad when she would pass out at random times. She  was almost going to speak about it to him, but he would just get in defensive mode and hit her again. There was no point in wailing her arms around and screaming for someone to come rescue to her. She was in an underground basement, and she was sure no one even knew this part of the apartment existed. Luna figured he must have built this himself. She looked at him with tired eyes and a crooked smile was plastered on her face. When she opened her jaw to speak, she winced slightly at the pain it caused.

"Push me aside, hit me, scream at me, lunge at me with your dirty ass fucking fingernails - but just remember, what goes around comes back around." 

There was a whole story before this though. She wasn't just suddenly taken away by some creepy stranger. She was set up and that was that. Nothing more to it, but Luna had suspected this would happen. It was already too late when she came to the sudden realization though. Her 'friend' had slipped something in her drink at the bar, making her woozy, and her 'friend' urged her to take a breather behind the bar. Luna obliged of course. She was too out of it to think for herself. Luna let her friend lead the way, and when she stepped out into the open air, she turned around to find her friend suddenly gone. She would have chased after her if she could, but her vision had gotten blurry and she couldn't contain the feeling that she was about to puke any second. Luna bent over slightly with both hands on her knees, and puked on the side of the alleyway. It was gross to say the least, and she looked around her in case anyone was watching - unaware that someone was already standing behind her. The man had been watching her from a distance. He wore a black hoodie that covered his dull eyes, and he spoke in such a fluent way that she found herself intoxicated by the voice.

Day three had to be one of the worst experiences she ever had to endure. All Luna could remember was him gliding his knife around the areas of her thigh, and by the end of the session she had about about ten very deep cuts along her precious skin. The last thing she heard before he was taken by him in that alleyway was the sound of her own, quickened heartbeat.