Abducted - Take Two

Sierra's eyes quickly grew wide with fear and disbelief as she fell to the floor and scrambled back toward the wall for safety. Finally Genesis had released his grip on her neck and her oxygen supply returned. Gasping for a few short ragged breaths, her hands flew to her throat where he had gripped tightly just moments before. She had not known that she would have repercussions such as violence at the mere sound of a name. She knew now that there was apparently a lot of bad blood between the two men, and suspected that this was the prime reason she was chosen as his victim.  

As Genesis neared her, a hand quickly flung itself up in a motion to stop. She didn't feel comfortable with him being in her small bubble - not after this. Even though he apologized profusely, she still felt a considerable amount of fear for her safety, as any halfway sane person would. "Please.. Don't?" Sierra questioned, her large green eyes searching his face for some signs of mercy. A sign that he would obey her wishes and stay back a generous distance. It didn't take much to convince the man to keep away, because he slowly lowered himself down onto the floor about three feet away from her, staring at her with the same disbelief and horror that she had shown him while he clutched her throat.

Remarkably, she felt a twinge of pity for him. He continued to profess just how sorrowful he was for the actions and pain he had inflicted upon her. She was greatly surprised by the words uttered from her lips, for they weren't natural in a situation such as this.

Genesis looked, through blood shot eyes, at the small huddled up figure that sat backed against the wall across from him. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean too." His voice was shaky and stumbled over the words. Genesis' hands were clutching themselves into fists as his gaze shifted to them in disbelief. He wasn't a violent person - he never had been. How he had landed himself in the situation he was in. Well.... he did: A hard fall and a seemingly endless pit of drugs at the bottom.

"What do you mean you forgive me?" The words were dripping with self hatred and disgust. If anything this girl should be fighting with him and tooth nail. It was a kindness he did not deserve. "Why?" His baby blue eyes were hazed over by drugs and internal pain as he looked to her for an answer.

Sierra cautiously watched as Genesis stared at her from a few feet away. He was still relentlessly muttering apologies underneath his breath. At this point, she didn't know if he was delusional and he was apologizing to her or someone else, because it seemed as if the words would never cease to spill from his lips. But no sooner than the thought crossed her mind, his demeanor changed entirely. He went from being on the verge of an emotional breakdown, to a wave of anger overcoming him once again.

Swallowing hard, Sierra nodded ever so slightly in response to his question. She was undoubtedly fearful of another violent attack due to her selfless remark only seconds earlier. She couldn't keep from flinching slightly as he made a sudden movement toward her. He stopped about a foot away this time. His posture wasn't too unnerving, but the tone his voice was coated with made her uneasy. As he continued to prod, questioning why she had forgiven him, how she could do so, Sierra finally spoke up.

"You're a sad man. You're lost. And you're lonely. You're hurting. And I can't begin to fathom why or who caused you the pain you feel. But we both know I'm not the primary cause of it. It's truly a shame that someone so young has given up and found consolation from getting high or drunk off your ass. Answers aren't found that way - trust me." She muttered, wrapping her arms around herself and shifting her gaze from his bloodshot eyes down to the frumpy rug that was underneath her.

Genesis' hazed over eyes attempted to focus on the girl in front of him once more. The blurry figure would come in and out of focus as he blinked over and over. He felt dizzy, disoriented, and confused - perhaps more so than the girl. It was a combination of coming off a cocktail of drugs and alcohol. "I'm sorry." He stuttered out, perhaps out of context when it went through Sierra's mind, but it managed the words had managed to weave themselves into his thought process and seemed like the right to say - or close to it anyway. Besides - he wasn't in the mindset to form too many sentences.

He closed his eyes again, trying to end the sense of vertigo he was feeling but he only made it worse. Genesis stumbled forward and unable to catch himself, came crashing to the ground. He landed with a heavy thud, the distinct noise of barley covered bone hitting concrete ringing through the bleak basement when his head smacked the floor. He sat back up looking more out of it than he had before, and gingerly touched his head, feeling a sting when his fingers met the cut that slowly oozing blood, and looking slightly confused at the red liquid covering his fingertips.

Truth be told though, it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt anymore. That feeling, along with any other was long gone. It was part of why he was so confused - he knew he hit the floor, he knew he had injured his head - but their was nothing but the dull ache of coming down from a high. "I need a drink." He said quietly to himself and he pushed himself up against the wall and rested his head on his knees, and placed his hands behind his neck. Either oblivious, or simply not caring that blood was dripping all over the floor.

Sierra's eyebrows furrowed together as Genesis began swaying before her, standing uncertainly on his feet. She didn't know what concoction of narcotics and alcohol he had blended, but what she did know was how hard and fast an addict could come down from a high - especially the incredible dose she knew he had to have taken prior to coming into the basement. She didn't know whether or not she should flee and call a paramedic, or stay in this solitary confinement on her own. Either way you diced it, she was looking for an inevitable, safe departure.

As he came crashing down, Sierra couldn't help but wince. She knew better to attempt to break his fall - even in his malnourished state he weighed considerably more than her. Height alone would have played a major role. Sierra noticed the blood seeping from the head wound he had acquired right before her eyes and instantly went into protector mode. Looking around for a moment, she noticed things she could apply to his forehead, but all of which were deemed unlikely candidates based on cleanliness.  Eventually it came down to clothing, and his had probably seen a washer more recently than hers.  

"Take off your shirt." She insisted, her hand reaching out expectantly. The peculiar look she received did nothing but deter her. "Take it off. Unless you thoroughly enjoy blood oozing from a head wound you would be wise to listen to me. They bleed more than any other abrasion, and you could have very well given yourself a concussion. So that means liquor and drugs are out of the question." Her tone was stern, unwavering. She had been a nurse for a few years before the access to drugs had proved too much for the little addict. This is where her old habits would resurface and her addiction would take on another two year span.

Genesis heard the directions the first time, and partially comprehended them but everything seemed like it was echoing and swaying. The second time Sierra repeated herself he began to fumble with the hem of the shirt, lacking the coordination at the moment to pull it over his head which resulted in pulling at it in frustration until the white v-neck eventually tore from the deepest part of the v down to the hem. He wadded it up and handed it to Sierra, putting his head back down on his knees. He wanted to lay down and maybe go to sleep.

The drug addiction had obviously taken it's toll on his body with his arms covered in scabs from shooting up and his figure now much more gaunt and lanky than it had ever been, but still you could tell in the not-so-distant past he had been in excellent shape. It had been a hard and fast spiral downwards. It wasn't the result of 'gateway drugs' like pot that the news frantically informed parents of young adults of, the niche of a drug addiction were found when he searched for something to numb him from everything else.

"The worst it could do is kill me." Genesis shrugged off her comment about no drugs or alcohol. Death would a welcomed kindness at this point. He felt sick and disgusting all the time. He lived in a constant state of being disoriented until he sobered up enough to find his way to a drug dealer or a liquor store, not entirely sure which was the lesser evil at this point. What would it matter if he ended up dead at this point now? There wasn't anyone who would miss him. He would just be another static that police used at scared straight programs.

Sierra watched as Genesis fumbled with the simple task of removing his shirt. He reminded her of a newborn, unsteady and uncertain of himself. His movements lacked grace, and any coordination that he had prior to his latest drug binge was long gone. Finally his shirt tore and it was handed roughly over to her. She rolled her eyes and gently pushed his head back so it rested against the wall, exposing the wound in the process. She was unable to tend to it with his head pressed down against his knees.

Instantly her disposition changed as he spat out the comment referring to death. She went from being placid to vehement anger. "The worst that could happen is death?" Sierra snapped. "Well aren't you callous." She muttered, irritated, as she pressed the balled up shirt against his forehead once again. This time, he winced as she had applied pressure to his face. It brought to her attention that she had pushed it against him a little too forcefully, and she immediately backed off. Not only was he an addict, he was an addict starting to go through withdrawals. Clearly that meant things could end poorly for her if she weren't careful with her words or her actions. It prompted her to utter a quiet 'sorry'.

Sierra glanced at him as she shifted her weight from one knee to the next. Naturally she didn't want to cause him physical harm, something that had always been the case, even if he did put her in this shabby predicament. "When did you start using?" She questioned, her tone changing to curiosity as she sat still dabbing the now healing head wound. "Obviously you're unhappy.. No one is a content drug addict." Sierra added faintly.

Genesis winced when Sierra pressed too hard on his head pinning him between the concrete walls of the cellar and the pressure on the still-stinging wound. He reached a hand up to gently push her away. He didn't need the help - like he had said worst it could do is kill me and he wasn't all too concerned about the finality of that. His temperament was wavering between the gentle heart and soul he had been born with and the violent addict he had become, but the more he sobered up the more the former showed.

"Thanks...I got it." He whispered placing his hand over the bloodied T-shirt. Even though it was a head wound, it was still bleeding more than usually, but he supposed that could be chalked up to his intoxication level. Besides the feeling of coming down, he was now faced with the pounding in his head.

His mind scrambled to find an answer for Sierra, the more competent side of him coming too. "Uhm..." He stammered. "I used to use when I was younger for about 3 or 4 years, I got cleaned up for a while but..." He paused, he wasn't about to pour his sob story out to some stranger. "Shit  happens."  He ended the sentence solemnly. "I might not be happy but I feel better than I would."

Sierra reluctantly allowed Genesis to be the one applying pressure to the gash on his head. The only thing that kept her from protesting was the slightly angry outburst that resulted in her pressing against his forehead with too much force. Pointing to where his hand was now holding the blood soaked shirt, she spoke up. "Had you hit your head any harder, you would have needed stitches. They aren't fun to give, so I can only imagine how painful they are to receive." She muttered, letting her hands fold lightly in her lap.

"I wouldn't advise you take anything for your head.. Over the counter or whatever you prefer to use. Don't sleep for an hour or two either.. You may have given yourself a mild concussion." Sierra offered quietly. She wasn't trying to control the man's life, but in the very probable case that he would be stupid enough to increase the damage done, she felt the need to urge him a bit of discretion.

Sierra nodded silently at the phrase shit happens. It did indeed, but the couldn't help but notice the grief-stricken tone that was attached. It seemed to her that a little more than a shit storm flew in. But instead of pushing it, she decided to go another route. "What do you use typically? Do you have a drug of choice or are you more of an anything I can get my hands on kind of man?" She questioned as she pointed to one of the several injection marks on his arms.

"I like herion, but I'll take just about anything. I don't ask to many questions about what the stuff is." Genesis said slumping back against the wall - looking up at the ceiling hoping it would help to ease the blood flow. He felt better than he usually did when he was sobering up, maybe it was the mild concussion inhibiting proper brain behavior, or maybe it was having someone to talk to even if they were a stranger and not there entirely by choice.

"I'm Genesis by the way..." He spoke softly, his voice trailing off a bit as he started to feel light headed again. "I guess if I'm going to be you kidnapper you should at least get to know me." He teased her with a chuckle. "I'd shake your hand but uh... yeah." He held up his free hand which was also covered with blood. He wasn't sure why she was a target exactly - he just know that she was the target that the dealers wanted bagged. He supposed it had something to do with someone she knew who had gotten mixed up with him.

It was the best situation she could be in if she was going to be kidnapped though as far as he knew. His instructions were to take her and make her go away. But he hardly had any intentions of killing her or otherwise maiming the girl - even his most doped up state he wouldn't be able to do much damage before his soft heart came around and wanted to mend whatever he had broken.

Sierra nodded as he mentioned his drug of choice as well as the need to get your hands on anything to get your next high and keep you from crashing down into the painful effects of withdrawals. She, too, knew that side of addiction well. Being an addict of five years wasn't something that you forgot about. Not the pain, nor the craving, and not even the rediculous lows you would find yourself creeping to just to get your next fix. "Opiates are a bitch." She agreed.

Sierra didn't quite know how he could be so relaxed about the act of kidnapping someone. It almost frightened her how calmly he was in this particular situation, but the strangest part was it seemed he had no intentions of causing her any harm. "Sierra.. Former junkie, stripper, nurse.. You name it. I've probably done it." Her tone was less than enthusiastic as she spoke. She began to think about the past few years of her life, and how tumultuous they had been. A roller coaster ride of addiction, risky behaviour, and less than spectacular life choices were all intermixed. The only proud and shining moment thrown into the pot was getting clean.

"Why did you pick me? What did I ever do? And how'd you get away with kidnapping me? I don't remember you, nor the struggle I was sure to put up. I'm not one to go down without a fight. How did you manage it?" The possibility that she was drugged sprouted in her mind. It was the only way she could piece together that would fog both her memory and ability to fight of an assailant. Genesis didn't seem to be the one with hostile feelings toward her, so who would have carried the plot into action against her?

"Stripping to get through school?" Genesis laughed at the age-old cliche. He was feeling better now. He moved the t-shirt away from his head, the fabric sticking to the mostly coagulated blood on his forehead. It had stopped bleeding for now. He set the bloodied rag aside and reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "You smoke?" He held one in between his teeth as he spoke.

He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. It was another bad habit that had crept up along with the drug addiction. At least smoking was untimely less destructive than heroin. His body began to relax as the nicotine found it's way into his veins and the tar blackened his lungs. It helped him calm down when he was coming off a high.

"If I'm being totally honest with you, I don't know the answer to any of those." Genesis sighed taking another puff. "I've been high as fuck for the past 3 days. The guy I buy from had a guy who wanted you gone. They offered me more drugs to do the job. I took it - sorry about that by the way." He paused once more, bringing the cigarette to his lips, inhaling and then breathing out a cloud of smoke. "In a way, you're probably lucky they asked me - I'm not the raping and killing type, so I mean that's something off your shoulders. If I were you, I would lay low here for a little while, then dye your hair and move out of town." He wasn't sure what made him think he could take on a job like that, besides the promise of drugs. He just hoped no one found out Sierra was (mostly) safe and sound in his cellar.

The opportunity to smoke was one that she wasn't about to pass up. It had been days since she had been without a nicotine fix and her cravings were about to drive her mad, not to mention the added stress of being kidnapped and locked within a complete stranger's home. Sierra immediately snatched up a cigarette and took a hit off of Genesis's lighter as they were offered to her. She reveled in knowing that she would at least be secure with her attacker - something she never would have believed was possible.

Taking a few hits off of the cigarette he had provided her, Sierra glanced up at him with curious eyes. "Who do you buy from? I mean, I can hardly guess why I would be a prime target. I haven't meddled with drugs in a little over a year, nor screwed anyone over. You learn to keep on good terms with felons and people mixed up in pretty nasty shit, especially if you're a woman. You don't stand a chance. I've kept my hands clean of fucking up with them." She was mainly thinking aloud as she rambled about the life she was once a part of. She hadn't left on poor terms with any of her dealers. She hadn't ratted anyone out to the feds. There was never a time where she was affiliated with any gang members.

Crossing her legs, she leaned forward on her elbows. "What did he say? I mean. I'm pretty well known.. And I kept on fabulous terms with the whole lot after I got clean as far as I know. My situation changed but I didn't necessarily. Who the fuck put a bulls eye over my head?" She questioned, frustrated. She hadn't been on anyone's turf, nor stolen drugs, nor got involved with anyone's "man" as of late. Who did she end up pissing off?

"It's probably less of who you are, and more of who you know." Genesis replied back simply, finishing off the last of his cigarette and ashing it out on the ground before reaching for another one. "Knowing these people, someone you're close to probably fucked someone over and they decided you'd be the best way to teach them a lesson. So - after you leave, you might want to skip out on talking to anyone you know - lest they know you're okay." He might not of been the smartest man alive, but years of rolling around in the black market of the drug world and always having friends involved in it had taught him a few things.

"They just gave me your address and what you look like, then they told me they wanted you 'out of sight - out of mind', they didn't care what I did with you or too you as long as their hands were clean and you were gone." He took a long drag. "I mean, you're in the best situation you can be in if you're being kidnapped. I mean, stay away from me when I'm high because I'm not conscious of what I'm doing, but other than that - lay low, don't let anyone know who you are because someone doesn't want you around."

He felt bad over all of this, he hated knowing that the promise of drugs could lead him to such extreme lengths. "You don't have to stay in the weird creepy basement either - you can go upstairs whenever you want." He offered back against the wall, blowing smoke rings as he thought about how fucked up everything was right now.

Sierra's eyebrows pulled together in both confusion and a twinge of worry. She couldn't recall anyone who was as involved as she had been with anyone on the streets. She began listing off names that came to mind, ones who were most likely involved in the whole scheme of things to the ones she had contacted most recently. Running her fingers through her hair, she realized she had let her cigarette burn out while she had buried herself deep in thought. "Can I borrow your lighter again?" She questioned, reaching her hand out slightly.

It was a relief to know Sierra didn't have to stay in the dingy basement. Essentially it was the best entrapment she had ever found herself lost in. Any other time she was kept against her will there was some act of violence or punishment used to keep her at bay. She lived entirely out of fear for her life. This time was extremely different. She knew when and if she would ever be in danger, it would be tied to drugs, not the intense need to have her killed or the sexual desires of sadist. Sierra would be sure to heed his warning about the enraged stupor he could dive into while under the influence of many narcotics. That was much more compliable than the other two scenarios.

"You didn't happen to grab any clothes from my place, did you? I'd really enjoy a shower and to change." She had been wearing the same outfit for three days now looming in and out of consciousness from whatever she had been slipped days before. It left her feeling like shit, being clean and sober for so long and then ending up under the influence of some foreign substance. Perhaps a sedative? She had never been a fan of those.

Genesis reached back into the pocket of his denim jeans, looking for his lighter. "You really don't help my chain smoking." He pulled out another cigarette and lit up before set the lighter on the concrete floor and flicked it so it spun across the some-what smooth purpose until it reached Sierra. Smoking might not of been good for him, but it was the lesser evil when he was going to pick between shooting up or lighting up.

"I didn't..." Genesis said in an almost regretful tone, like he had forgotten to grab his car keys before he shut the trunk on a car. It was a novelty to kidnap a girl and keep her in the cellar - then feel bad that you forgot to pack her a change of clothes. "I could pick you some up though, if you'll write down your size for me. I think it would be better if you didn't leave the house for a little while though."

The last thing he wanted was for someone who would hurt her to find out he didn't carry out the job the way they wanted him too. "I'll get some hair dye too, ever wanted to try out a particular color? Blonde bombshell? Foxy redhead?" Genesis teased her with a light chuckle in his voice.

Sierra snorted at his comment about her fueling his unruly chain smoking habit. "You smoking doesn't exactly help the fact that I was trying to quit either. So touche." She snatched the lighter up off the smooth, cold concrete to light the end of her cigarette that had burned out earlier before tossing it back in his general direction, growing amused as he narrowly missed the translucent green lighter. It was out of the question for her to quit her smoking habit as she now transitioned to a life of solitude in a house with a man she knew nothing about; there were too many stresors involved for her to effectively quit.

She took a few hits off of the cigarette before closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall. In the silence, she tried to determine just how long she would be confined to the walls of this house and not step out into daylight and enjoy simple, menial tasks such as taking a walk or going to the grocery store. Sierra sighed in frustration before casting a dissatisfied look at her only company for god know's how long. "This is is some serious and shitty business we've gotten ourselves into, huh?" She muttered, stubbing the butt of her cigarette out on the flooring beside her.

Before giving Genesis a real chance to answer, her attention went back to his comment about hair dye and clothing he could go out and buy her. This was what threw her into a tizzy in the first place. "Size three jeans, medium or large shirts considering, medium underwear. Please don't kill my soul with granny panties. I'd rather go commando than wear my underwear up to my tits." She added, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous image that had pushed its way into her mind.

Running her fingers through her hair, she began to consider various hair colours and decided to go an auburn colour. "Blondes are so cliche -- I'll do a red of some sort.. Darker than yours with more of a brown or purple tint to it. I'm not put off by off the wall colours either, so if you get an itch that something is too similar to what I have now, feel free to snag whatever." Sierra played with a wavy lock of her brown hair between her fingers, admiring the colour that she was inevitably going to have to do away with for an undecided amount of time.

Genesis only nodded in her direction as a reply to the shitty business comment as he stuffed the lighter back into the stiff pocket of his jeans. It was a lucrative business and despite his own actions - he would of hated to see Sierra in harm's way. "It's better than being tossed in the river and your foot washing up next year I guess." He pulled his knees up to his chest and shivered when a strong gust of wind howled outside and rattled the wooden doors of the cellar.

He hadn't realized how cold the weather had been getting the past few weeks, but their was no denying it when the outside air creeped through the crevices of the of the door way, rattling the hinges, and met his pale skin. He paused for a moment to wonder how long that drug binge had lasted... it couldn't of been more than a week, right? The weather hadn't been so snappy when it started or at least he didn't think so... "Do you want to head upstairs?" He asked rising up off the floor carefully, holding onto the wall at different intervals still feeling a bit light headed from the fall and blood loss. "The heats on, and you can take a shower and borrow some clothes for tonight."

It was the least he could offer her after kidnapping her and evidently leaving her in the cellar for a couple days while he was strung out. He hated himself for that, he knew that wasn't him but Genesis and Drugged Out Genesis had proven to be two very different people. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde if you will. He hunched over the awkward space as he waited on Sierra, it wasn't that he was abnormally tall but the cellar hadn't been built for anyone near 6' in mind.

Sierra felt another pang of anxiety flutter throughout her at the mention of her being not only tortured for the sake of proving a point, but the seemingly inevitable chance of being murdered at someone else's expense. It was terrifying to think that she who had been an upstanding citizen in the evils of the black market and made it out alive and without any skirmishes was now the target due to someone else's fuck up. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared blankly at the wall directly across the small cellar with an unwavering expression.

She jumped slightly at the loud rattling of the cellar doors as well as the increasing noise from the howling wind outside. She turned to Genesis with a slightly perturbed expression before quickly wiping away any worry that she had been carrying around on her shoulders since she had awoken in a foreign place.

He questioned her if she cared to go inside where she could shower and get out of the plummeting temperatures, which came as a great relief. There was nothing more she wanted than to soak in a hot bath and get lost underneath the covers for a few hours. She hadn't been sleeping well down in the vault she had been stored in. It was incredibly cold, a bit damp, and the anxiety of being confined in an unknown place wasn't much comfort either.

Sierra rose from the floor, having to arch over a few inches. Even she who was a mere 5'5 had to bend slightly to keep from hitting the top of her head on the ceiling of the cellar. There was still the fear of her kidnapper prodding her in the back of her mind, warning her to make a break for it at first chance. The only thing more scary than being kidnapped was being snatched up by someone on the street who she knew would have no problems being rid of her. Biting her lip, she decided to go with the red headed man with a black and white attitude, the one who she shouldn't trust, but couldn't help feeling a little badly for the poor creature.

Genesis pushed at the wooden cellar doors, at first unbudging since every time he pushed against them the wind would push them back. "Looks like were stuck." Genesis laughed as he pushed at them one more time, this time they opened up, and once the wind caught the flat surface, the quickly flung to the side, hinges rattling as they struggled to hold onto the boards. Genesis trotted up the cement stairs, Sierra following behind. He debated on whether or not to bother with the doors, but decided closing them was better than having another raccoon take up residence. He slammed the doors shut and secured them with a stick underneath the handles to keep the doors from flying up again.

It was dark, but the Victorian Architecture of the house was viable with the circular bay windows and elaborate wood work. It was also evident that the house was not exactly in it's prime, and showed several signs of age. It looked like the 'haunted' house that all the little kids had to muster up courage to walk up to on Halloween, only to get to the gates and scurry away. It had several old trees in the backyard and the premiter was surrounded with a Gothic wrought iron fence complete with small spikes on the peaks.

Inside the house was a bit nicer, dated but the outside (at least on a dark, windy, fall night_ suggested the house was full of cobwebs and ghosts. Genesis flicked on the light switch at the door, the foyer was illuminated by a small chandelier that was original to the home and small wall sconces lit up the hallways on either side. The place was messy, with magazines and old mail scattered about, the windows were dirty, and many objects you could tell were simply left where they were when Genesis had finished with them.

Sierra crept slowly and cautiously behind Genesis as they headed into the dark home. She imagined how beautiful it had to have been the some hundred years ago it had been built, and became a little disheartened that the redhead had let it become nearly dilapidated over time. She supposed she couldn't place the blame solely on his shoulders -- she knew nothing about its history and when Genesis had come into ownership of it.

She glanced around the spacious living area, strewn with bottles of alcohol, magazines, boxes of take out, and various drug paraphernalia. It was safe to say that he didn't do much socializing, have many hobbies besides hitting the bottle, or getting his next fix. It then dawned on her that he must have run into some kind of money to purchase these things and to keep the heat and water on in the house, but the idea of him having and maintaining any sort of career besides various odd jobs he could scrounge up was a bit unrealistic in her opinion.

As she further examined the living area, she ran across a mirror hanging on the wall. The reflection staring back at her was more disheveled than her own thoughts, and it quickly made her self-concious and long for a bath more than ever. While looking at herself, she silently wondered if the dark mark on her forehead was grime from being down in the cellar for a few days, or if it were a bruise that she managed to obtain. She was too paranoid to poke at it until she was alone though, which made her pop the question. "Do you mind showing me where the bathroom is?"

Genesis wasn't rich in any sense of the word, but he did have a steady stream of income. Between settlements from the state for both his 'upbringing' in a hellhole until he was removed from his parents care at 12, and another for lose of both fiance and child a couple years ago, he was able to keep comfortable as far as money was concerned. Plus the various jobs he could pick up while he was sober padded his accounts a bit.

"Yeah, just follow me." Genesis said as he walked down the hallway directly in front of the foyer until he came to wooden staircase with a green carpet runner going down the middle. "It's just up here." He was mostly talking to fill the awkward silence between them. At the top of the staircase you were met with several doors around an arc, and small hallway in the opposite direction "Down this hall." He turned at the top of the staircase, taking the tiny hallway to the door at the end. "And right there." He opened the door to the bedroom which had an attached bathroom. The room was scattered with his clothes, some of them half heartedly folded and placed on top of the dresser. "Borrow whatever you need, you can sleep in here." He gestured towards the clothes that were folded up, and then to a bed sitting on a platform frame in the middle of the room that was covered in gray sheets and black duvet.

"Towels are under the sink. I'll be down stairs if you need anything - just yell. The vents carry the sound pretty well." With that, Genesis offered her a small smile before shutting the door and trailing off back down the stairs to the living room and turning on the tv. There wasn't a whole lot to talk about, though the house might of been something to show off in it's former days - that wasn't the case anymore. The floors were well worn, the walls were faded in the places that peeked through, and spots showed on the wall were old pictures used to hang. A half-full bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table and it caught his attention momentarily. He picked it up and ran his hand over the label, debating, but ultimately deciding not to. The last thing Sierra needed was to encounter him strung out twice in one day, but told himself it was to keep his head from bleeding again and set it back on the table.

Sierra followed in step behind Genesis up the old, creaky stairwell. She was paying attention only halfway as she glanced around the home's unique characteristics and the flaws it had obtained over the years of wear and tear. Noticing that Genesis had gotten a little ways ahead of her, she quickly picked up her face and followed him toward the messy bedroom. It matched the rest of the house, only this time there were clothes, shoes, and other laundry tossed in various places on the furniture and wooden floors.

Nodding silently, she wrapped her arms around herself, as she slowly walked around the room, eyeing the different options of his clothes he had offered her as a temporary fix. She was still a bit uncomfortable as she reached down to grab a navy t-shirt that lie folded in a frumpy manner on the end of the bed, but when he insisted she sleep in his room for the night, it took the cake.  "I really don't want to put you out of your own room.. I'll be more than happy to sleep on the couch. It isn't fair of me to make you sleep there." Sierra insisted.

She knew it was probably a little irrational for her to want to make his life comfortable when she were the one who happened to be the victim, though a well kept one at that, yet she still felt the inexplainable urge to keep him happy. The fact that he somehow managed to pacify her enough to give into sleeping in his bed stupified her. Once he had disappeared, she looked through the pile of boxers that were in a stack on his dresser and tried to find the smallest pair. She felt innately wrong doing so, but the only other option was to go commando around a man she didn't know - that definitely wasn't happening.

Genesis wasn't going to listen to any argument Sierra made about the sleeping situation. He wasn't going to make Sierra sleep on the couch, not after everything else he had already done - including keeping her locked in a concrete cellar for the past couple days. Besides, he usually slept on the couch regardless of the 'house guest' situation. Well, sleep was really an operative word there, he supposed the more correct term would be passed out. That was why the bed was covered up in clothes and half folded towels.

The water running through the old pipes caused a constant sound of rushing water (although quite muffled between the walls, insulation, and pipes) to echo through the house along with the water heater kicking on from the nook underneath the stair case. Charms of living in an old house... Genesis mused as he stretched out on the cream colored couch, pulling the blanket that had run across the length of it over him while he watched the flicked through the channels finally settling on Cops. That really was the default show when there was nothing else on TV.

He supposed he should make something for dinner, but he wasn't exactly master chef or Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen...but it really was the least he could do given the mess he had dragged the poor girl into. He rose up off the couch and went to the small, horseshoe shaped kitchen, that was just off the main hallway at the back of the house. His fridge held about was to be expected from a 20-something bachelor.... lots of frozen meals, pizza, and junk food. He went with pizza, because not to many people disliked that... he set the oven for 400* per the directions on the back of the box and leaned against the counter while waiting for the oven to heat up.

Sierra went through the motions of her typical shower, though this time instead of smelling of sweet flowers and touches of citrus, her skin was left giving off the smell of the man who had brought her here as his captive. She stepped out of the tub and onto the shaggy rug on the steamy bathroom's floor, quickly towel drying her hair while she gave a silent thank you to whatever good karma was in her favour that provided her with good health and a slightly sane abductor. She was still all too aware that the situation was high-risk and the possibility of things making a turn for the worst were favourable, but in the mean time she would bite her tongue and bide by his rules.

Sierra turned toward the mirror and wiped the steam away, noticing now with a clean body that the dark mark on her forehead was indeed a nasty bruise. There were a few more bruises as well as light cuts around her ankles and her wrists that discoloured her skin as well. They were more than likely from being restrained when she had been kidnapped. She knew very well she was not one to go down without a hell of a fight, so there had to have been some physical restraint keeping her subdued.

She reached down and snatched the clothing she had worn over the past three days off the floor before making her way toward the stairwell Genesis had directed her up half an hour before. It took no more than a few steps out of the bedroom before the aroma of pizza came wafting through the doorway, triggering the vicious growling of her stomach. It was then that she realized she hadn't had any food and only a gallon jug of water in the cellar to keep her alive. She took the steps two at a time on the way down, in search of the food being cooked.

Suddenly, she became aware that eating may not be on the agenda for her, but instead it was a meal for him and him alone. She would not be the first victim of violence or abuse that was restricted from eating. The thought sunk her spirits slightly, but decided whenever he would pass out from the next high or drunken binge she would eat without him noticing. Besides, he couldn't even recall the act of kidnapping her, he certainly wouldn't remember how many pieces of pizza he had eaten.

Sierra finally made her way into the kitchen with her nose as her guide, and noticed the tall, lanky redhead standing in front of the oven, now cutting the pizza on the counter top next to the stove. "Do you mind if I wash these?" She questioned, holding up the dirty wad of clothing that she had just changed out of. It was to her displeasure that her stomach rumbled loudly while she spoke, revoking any chance of pretending not to be hungry that she had planned to display for Genesis.