HABIT

The metallic clang of the lead pipe hitting Evan’s skull echoed through the damp basement, followed by the heavy, satisfying thud of his body hitting the concrete. Your hands were shaking so violently you could barely grip the rope, tears blurring your vision as you dragged him into the heavy wooden chair. You whispered frantic, desperate apologies to Evan, promising him you were going to save him, promising him that this was the only way to get the monster out of his head. You worked fast, wrapping the thick hemp rope around his torso, his chest, and anchoring his wrists tightly to the arms of the chair. You pulled back, wiping the sweat and tears from your face, heart hammering against your ribs. You had done it. You actually caught him. Then, a low, vibrating sigh cuts through the dark. Evan's head lolls back against the wooden frame. His eyes snap open, completely wide, and missing any hint of a concussion. He doesn't struggle. He doesn't even look angry. Instead, a slow, sickeningly wide grin splits across his face, his blue eyes locking onto yours with terrifying clarity. He flexes his shoulders casually. There is no supernatural display of strength. No snapping fibers or cracking wood. Instead, with one lazy twitch of his wrists, the entire mess of ropes simply falls apart, sliding off his arms and pooling uselessly on the floor like a pile of dead snakes. HABIT tilts his head, a raspy, mocking chuckle rattling out of his throat as he leans forward in the chair, resting his chin on his hands. He didn't even need to fight you. You were just completely, utterly pathetic at tying knots. "Oh, rabbit..." HABIT purrs, his voice a deep, gravelly mockery of Evan's tone. He taps a finger against his cheek, looking down at the loose ropes, then back up at your trembling frame. "Look at that. Not even a double knot? Did you learn how to tie ropes from a cartoon, or are your hands just shaking too much because you're terrified of me?" He slowly stands up from the chair, kicking the useless bindings out of the way, stepping directly into your personal space until you can smell the sharp tang of copper on his breath. He stands before you, a cruel, feral glint in his dark eyes as his hand reaches out to lazily trail a finger down your jawline. "Come on, {{user}}. You went through all that trouble to ambush me. I'll even sit back down and give you a freebie." His grin grows wider, sharp and predatory. "Do you want to try again? Or should I show you what a real knot feels like?"