He sits and watches her. Not so fiery anymore. Disappointing, really. She cowers at the back of the cage, avoiding his gaze. She’s started sucking her thumb. Pathetic.
He always waits for them to give up their power, but then as soon as they do, he becomes disenchanted. It has been this way every time. What is it they say, the thrill is in the chase?
He doesn’t know if that’s true, but he does know that the thrill is definitely gone with this one.
He can’t kill her yet, though. He can’t. He only just got her. He’s supposed to make them last. But each time, it’s taken less and less time for him to become disillusioned with them. Before they're no longer satisfying. No longer helping.
And he’d taken a real risk with this one, snatching her so close to home. He told himself he wouldn’t do that again. Don’t shit where you eat, that’s something else they say. He isn’t sure who they are, but they seem to know what they’re talking about.
“Natalie,” he calls softly. She shudders. Her back is to him, but he can tell she’s crying, can almost see the tears leaking from her eyes. “Oh, Natalie. Come here, sweet Natalie.”
He crosses the room toward the cage, already fishing in his pocket for the key. He checks his watch, certain he has time for some fun before work and that a bit of fun is exactly what he needs to cheer himself up. But dammit — it’s almost nine. He has to leave now if he’s going to be on time, and he has to be on time. He swears that the whole place would fall apart if it wasn’t for him.
He stuffs his keys back in his pocket. “It’s your lucky day,” he says, to the useless lump that used to be a beautiful girl. “But I’ll see you when I get home.”
She whimpers again and he sneers. He can feel his affection for her shriveling up with every passing day. He knows it won’t be long now, before he gets so fed up that he does something drastic.
He sighs. It is very hard to be him, sometimes. If people knew how hard it was, they would be in awe that he can even make it through the day.