“Please, please let me go! I don’t want to die! Please!” I screamed at my captor. I wriggled on the broken tile of the bathroom floor in my cocoon of duct tape.
“God, shut up,” he said. He was busy fussing with the last yellow container.
He unscrewed the lid and poured the remaining clear liquid into the old claw-footed bathtub. I couldn’t see, but I could hear it filling the tub – glub glub glub out of the container splish splash splish splash into the basin.
“What…. what are you doing? What is all this?” I screamed through my tears.
Finished, he threw the empty container into the corner in frustration and glared down at me.
“I told you to shut up!” He was red-faced. “And it’s sulfuric acidic, you stupid bitch, strong enough to dissolve your goddamn whiny self, bones and all!”
“Oh Jesus!” I cried. “Please don’t kill me! You’re going to chop me up! You’re going to kill me and chop up my body and dissolve me in a bathtub?! Oh God!”
“Chop you up?” he laughed, bending down. He slid his arms under me and began to lift. “Don’t be ridiculous.”