A KIDNAPPING - PART 2

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Note: This story is intended for mature audiences (18+) and all characters depicted are 18 years of age or older.

Part 2: The Obsession in the Mirror

The sound of dripping water from somewhere in the sealed room echoed steadily, like a monotonous heartbeat within the dreadful silence. I lay on the large bed, my hands still tightly bound to the headboard with coarse rope, my wrists marked with deep, burning scratches. My mind was still spinning after the fainting spell, but this time, I no longer tried to open my eyes to reassess the situation, for I knew where I was, a sick prison decorated with photographs of myself, or rather, of the “girl” the kidnapper had created from me.

The old door screeched harshly as it opened, and he stepped inside, carrying a small tray on which rested a glass of water and a plate of plain rice with a few shreds of chicken. He wore a worn-out shirt and faded jeans, yet his eyes lit up strangely when they fell upon me. “Hello, my sweet little girl,” he said, his hoarse voice resounding in the cramped space like the growl of a wild wolf. I wanted to scream, to struggle, but my body felt unbearably heavy, as if pinned down by an invisible boulder.

He set the tray down beside the bed, then sat close to me, so close that I could feel his hot breath brushing against my shoulder. “Are you hungry?” he asked, but did not wait for my reply. He leaned down, his hand reaching to touch my cheek, rough fingers gliding lightly across my skin. “There is nothing to fear, I will take good care of you. This is the first step for you to become familiar with yourself, my Avelina.”

“Avelina?” I mumbled, my voice barely audible through the raw dryness of my throat. Yet this did not escape his ears, sharp as a hare’s. He burst into laughter, a twisted smile that could make anyone shudder.

“Exactly, darling! Avery Khan, the name of some brute, is already the past. From now on, you are Avelina, a beautiful girl, a grand masterpiece I have created. You still don’t see it? You are more beautiful than anyone I have ever met.” He leaned closer, his breath washing over my face. I turned my head away, but his hand gripped my chin tightly, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Let me go right now, you are committing a crime…” I said, forcing my voice to sound firm, but in the end, the sound that slipped from my lips was nothing more than a feeble plea. He shook his head, then drew a small pair of scissors from his pocket. My heart pounded wildly, fearing he would do something terrible, but he only cut the rope binding my hands. My wrists were flushed red, yet at least I was somewhat free.

“Eat, darling,” he ordered, pushing the tray of food toward me. “You need strength to become more perfect.” I looked at the plate of rice, my stomach twisting with hunger, yet I dared not touch it. Who knew what he might have put in there? Sensing my hesitation, he sneered, “Don’t worry, why would I need to poison you? I need you alive, I need you strong. Now, be good and eat, my Avelina.”

I did not want to obey him, but hunger and exhaustion left me no choice. What inexperienced student could possibly resist the natural instinct for survival of the body? I picked up the spoon, my hand trembling as I scooped a small bite of rice and brought it to my mouth. The taste was utterly bland, yet I swallowed it down, forcing myself not to think of what I was doing, nor of the future that loomed ahead. He watched me, his gaze like that of a proud father, yet containing something far darker.

When I finished eating, he stood up and pulled me into a straight sitting position. “Now comes the interesting part,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement. He opened a small wooden box placed in a corner of the room, taking out a vial of medicine along with a syringe. Before I could react, he seized my arm and injected it into my vein. I screamed, trying to yank my arm away, but he held me fast with overwhelming strength.

“Don’t be afraid, this is only something to help you become a perfect Avelina,” he whispered, stroking my hair as if to comfort me. “Female hormones. They will make you softer, more beautiful. Now you may hate me, but later you will thank me.”

I felt a wave of heat spreading from my arm through my whole body, accompanied by nausea. My head spun, and I collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath. But he did not allow me to rest. He pulled me up, forcing me to walk toward a large mirror standing in the corner of another room, something I had never noticed before.

“Look at your whole body,” he said from behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders. In the mirror, I saw a stranger’s figure. I was no longer wearing my old T-shirt and torn jeans. Instead, it was a pale pink dress, so thin it was nearly transparent, clinging to my body from shoulders to knees. Beneath it, I could feel matching lace lingerie, the intricate patterns brushing against my skin with every slight movement. The tiny bra pressed tightly against my chest, though there was nothing for it to support. My head felt heavier, and when I tilted my neck, a long lock of hair slipped over my shoulder, a smooth, light brown wig reaching down to the middle of my back.

My face was still mine, yet with the light makeup he had applied while I was unconscious, pale pink lipstick, blush, and a touch of mascara making my eyes appear larger. I wanted to smash the mirror, to tear apart everything on my body, but I had no strength left, and besides, I lacked the courage to do so.

He bent down, his hand sliding from my shoulder to my chest, caressing through the thin fabric. “Can you feel it? How soft this fabric is as it embraces you. This lingerie is the first gift I’ve given you, fine lace, chosen especially to highlight your delicate body. Rest assured, my living conditions may be hard, but I will never let you suffer.” He pressed lightly against my chest, the bra tightening even more, and I shuddered at the sensation, strange and revolting all at once.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, trying to push his hand away, but he only laughed harshly, holding me even tighter.

“You will grow used to your new identity soon enough,” he said, then suddenly bent down to kiss my neck. His breath still burned hot against my skin. I felt the lace scrape harder as he pulled me tightly against him. “I love you, Avelina. From the first moment I saw you at the warehouse, I knew you were born to be my girl.”

I truly wanted to cry, but no tears would fall. My body trembled, not only from fear, but also from another strange sensation, the utter helplessness of being under his control. He released me, letting me collapse onto the bed, then stood watching me with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Starting tomorrow, I will teach you how to be a real girl,” he said, his voice gentle in a way that was nothing but false. “You will love me, Avelina. I promise.”

He left the room, the door closing with a shrill screech. I lay there, in the dress and lace lingerie, feeling every seam of them scraping against my skin. My head was heavy, my body exhausted, and in the haze of delirium, I heard his voice echoing, “You will love me.”

At present, he did not even bother tying me up anymore. But I supposed it was no longer necessary. Whether from sheer exhaustion or from sedatives mixed into the food, my whole body was unbearably sluggish, drained of all vitality. Perhaps the only thing I could do was take off this ridiculous outfit! Yet that was not exactly a wise choice when the temperature in here was freezing cold.

If I only took off the bra, that should be fine, shouldn’t it? A normal boy’s life all those years had never known the feeling of wearing a bra, so the first experience left nothing but an unbearable sense of discomfort, suffocation, and constraint.

I reached out to touch the lace bra, but instantly, the repulsive face of that forty-year-old graphic designer appeared in my mind. There had been a time when I thought that face, though not handsome, still seemed gentle and likable. Truly, one can never trust anyone by appearances alone. And so, I abandoned the thought, leaving everything as it was was perhaps for the best.

I closed my eyes, trying to forget everything, but the image of Avelina, truly just another version of myself in the mirror, still haunted me, like a prophecy I could not escape. What did he intend to do to me? Where would my life go from here? Had anyone noticed my disappearance yet? All these questions, perhaps only that man could answer, but I doubted it. Never mind… for now, let this moment pass. I… am exhausted!

PART 3 >>