HIS TOY
The room was empty and only a single chair sat in the middle. A solitary window as small as a three months old baby stood a few metres close to the ceiling and was the only source of light to the room.
Amy seated on the chair, hands and legs bound and a bomb round her waist. Normally, the young girl would be bold, but in this situation she couldn't. Her eyes glistened from fresh tears.
“Hello, pretty, do you know me?” Lucian asked squatting to reach her height. “I've seen you around, I guess,” she wept, a few strands of hair stuck to her sweaty face.
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