Pink lemonade

[[Thanks very much for your review, Romanticfae :]. Reviews and constructive criticism would be appreciated. This chapter is a little short... u.u'.]]

When Ellie woke up from restless sleep, he was greeted with the sight of Razzle nailing wooden boards across the puny window. Indignance flooded Elliot for a moment.
'Hey! Razzle you said you'd leave the window if I was good...'
'Well, I decided that since you love me, I don't have to keep you tied up anymore!' Razzle beamed at him, a natural expression, but it seemed all the more freakish due to it's circumstances. He continued. 'But I don't want you to fall from this window and hurt yourself, you were always clumsy, I remember. So I'll make sure you're safe. We're not going to have heavy or sharp things here, either,' Razzle added. His facial features appeared a sort of strange mix between cheerful and derisive. 'Since you could hurt yourself and I need to look after you.' When Razzle was satisfied with the window, he hooked the hammer on the inside of his belt and returned to the small and now rather mucky bed. He sat down on the edge. Soft, gentle fingers toyed with Elliot's hair and he lay still. 'I'm so happy Ellie, finally, I'm going to make you happy to be here, I promise, anything you want I can bring it here.'
'You can't bring Miranda here,' Elliot blurted out. Razzle's face contorted.
'I don't want to hear that name mentioned again,' Razzle whispered. 'As punishment, you will remain tied up for now. I thought you were getting better but it seems you're not understanding. I've made you breakfast.'
Ellie could smell hamburger. Sure, it was the kind of breakfast he'd have loved as a youngster, but now he understood things like nutritional value, and the fact that processed food had all kinds of weird things in it. Razzle came back with a cheeseburger and a glass of pink lemonade. Elliot understood the significance of the pink lemonade. The elderly lady who used to live next door to him when he was a child always gave him a glass of pink lemonade, and always took care to pour one for Razzle, too. Of course, it was never drunk.

Elliot ate the cheeseburger with some coaxing, Razzle fed it to him, and managed to remain calm during the whole affair. Razzle tilted the glass of pink lemonade to Elliot's lips, he drank it, and it felt strangely good. The fizzy, lemony taste reminded him of back then distinctly. A tiny dribble escaped, slid down to pool at the dip of his neck, Razzle licked it up, a soft and gentle action. When Elliot was done, Razzle put everything away.
'I'm going out. I have important things to do. I will untie you whilst I'm gone. If you don't behave, I promise you'll regret it.' Elliot nodded eagerly. Razzle untied him, and forced him into an embrace, Elliot's arms curled around Razzle and squeezed. Even though Razzle was being crazy and cruel, Elliot couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity, since Razzle's reappearance, which he now had resigned to accepting was real, memories had flooded back. Memories of their closeness, of how others considered Elliot as introverted when infact he was infatuated, his life revolved around Razzle. Razzle finally let go, he left quietly, and Elliot sat still for a while.

Was it even possible to make sense of all of this? He doubted it. He looked down at his still naked body, it was sore, covered in scabbed over cuts and dark purple bruises, the straps had left ugly marks and cuts where he'd struggled against them. Elliot wondered where his clothes were. Wondered if he was confined to just this room or if he could wander about the rest of the apartment. He stood up, his legs wobbled and collapsed from beneath him. He wondered how long he'd been strapped down unable to move. Time had already become a blur. Elliot pulled himself back up and wandered over to the window to peer through the cracks between the wood. Nobody knew he was up here, trapped, maybe if he screamed and yelled someonee might hear him. Elliot screamed, Elliot screamed and yelled until his voice was hoarse, nobody heard him. He found the door unlocked and opened it, and seemed to enter some sort of strange and surreal world, boarded up windows, strange objects littered around the room, including his clothes. He slipped them on. He was pleased he'd worn a thick heavy jumper and a good pair of jeans, because the apartment was freezing cold. A fur coat was draped over the back of a chair, he could see a large patch of the carpet had been burnt for some reason, he supposed since Razzle had been drinking and smoking for reasons unknown to him, he'd been upto much more than the average person in a few hours. The kitchen was fairly untouched. A bag of choclate minstrels sat on the side. He took a couple, and poured himself another glass of pink lemonade. Glass, no of course not, hard plastic cups, plastic plates, Razzle was smart. He wouldn't provide Elliot with a weapon. But perhaps... Perhaps with some initiative, Elliot could find or make one.

Razzle was about to take a risk. A huge risk. Of course he would have to find her first. It wouldn't be hard. Trapped inside Elliot's mind he had limited access to his knowledge. Limited access to his life, particularly large factors such as where he lived. His plan would take a while, though.

When Razzle came home, it was late, he would have to sneak. The streets were quiet, he supposed it must be about two in the morning, maybe later. He dragged, a strange sound filled the air of something scraping the concrete, plastic rustling. Bump, bump, bump up the stairwell, a plastic carry case in one hand with a metal grid front, glowing eyes peered out. Razzle unlocked the door, Elliot was fast asleep behind it with the leg of a chair in his hands, now it was limp in his lap. Razzle roleld his eyes. That was thanks for you. Razzle had fetched him special presents today, Razzle was determined to make Elliot happy, no matter what it took. He unwrapped the present.

Elliot woke up to a strange sound, Razzle speaking in a high pitched voice, a familiar face bobbing up and down infront of his face. Miranda. Angry purple marks were around her neck like a choker, her skin pale and blue, she was wearing some sort of strange party dress, and Razzle was operating her, like a strange hand puppet. Dead. Miranda was dead. Elliot vomited abruptly, creeping away from the corpse, coughing and choking. Miranda dropped with a thud. Razzle stood still.
'I bought you what you wanted,' Razzle blurted out. 'She'd have run away if I hadn't killed her, I bought you Boris too. I bought you the things you like, aren't you happy?'
Elliot sobbed quietly in the corner. Miranda's head was slumped between her legs, bent in unnatural positions, her choclate brown hair hid her gaping mouth and round, scared eyes atleast. Miranda hadn't gone quietly, or quickly.
'I don't know what you want,' Razzle sounded desperate now. 'I just want you to stay with me, I knew you wouldn't if I just asked, this stupid witch had you poisoned, had you thinking you loved her, I just want you to stay here and not cry anymore! Stop it cry baby!' Razzle was shaking Elliot now, his head flopped this way and that, cracked off the wall a couple of times, he refused to stop crying.

Miranda was propped up in the corner now, her legs wide apart and her hands resting on her thighs. Boris the cat was chewing her finger. He was clearly hungry. Elliot had passed out and Razzle was pacing. This was a mistake. Elliot had returned to square one. Now what to do? This wasn't good, no Sir, Miranda would start to stink soon and Elliot definitely wouldn't like that. Perhaps he could cut her up and feed her to Boris. Sure, it'd take a while for Boris to eat his way through an entire human, but Razzle was sure he could. Razzle crouched down infront of the slumped body of the woman.
'Serves you right...' he whispered softly under his breath. Elliot's eyes were open and staring at the ceiling.