Alison sat down a ways from her kidnapper, in a barely lit corner of the motel. Her eyes desperatly searching for an exit. Glenn’s eyes watched as the girl nervously picked at her fingers, and the rapid tapping of her foot. Alison couldn’t stand the silence anymore, she had to say something otherwise it would kill her if her captor did not. So she opened her mouth words ready to spill from her, words about everything and nothing.

“No.” The sudden sound cut through the empty air, just one word. The first word her captor had spoken to her. His voice sounded rough and gravely as though he hasn’t spoken in years.

So confused and in her mind the only thing Alison could give was a one worded reply back. “What?”

Glenn looked at her this time, his eyes holding an overwhelming emotion. Sounding more sure of himself he spoke, “No.”

Twice, twice now her captor had spoken to her. She couldn’t believe it. Alison scrambled for a response, “You can speak?” Twice now Alison has answered with a question and she had instant regrets. The man chuckles a bit. Alison jumps slightly afraid she has done something wrong.

“Yes.” was all he said.

Hesitantly she asked, “Why don’t you speak more?” Alison somehow knew she didn’t want to know the answer but she often didn’t think things through. Her captor looked at her under his eyelashes and smiled. Albeit not a full smile but enough that Alison somehow felt comforted.

Glenn shook his head at the poor girl. Lifting his arm up his long coat sleeve fell down to revel his left hand. His pinky and his ring finger had been chopped off and the tip of his pointer finger had been removed too. Most people at first glance would say a dull knife. But deep down Alison knew it was something much worse. Her captor looked down as though inspecting his hand, looking back at her he spoke, “My father said I talked too much.” That was all he said, just those few words and that feeling of comfort was gone. No explanation was needed for Alison to put two and two together. Lowering his arm he went back to his previous task, turning his back to her he smiled to himself, he knew he would have absoulte silence tonight. And he did. Alison shrank back into her corner and sobbed silently in fear, her hand covering her mouth just in case any sounds wanted to escape. Alison decided she would have to stand the silence, she learned that instead of the silence killing her, it would be her savior and perhaps her only friend.

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Roses are red like the blood on my hands,

The ones that conquered all armies and lands.

Violets are blue like robes of great lords,

Who bargain their souls for the price of my sword.