I looked around the room. Bookshelves lined the walls. Some ancient-looking text was propped up on a round table in the center of the room. Men stood in the shadows of the far corners, watching me. Same height, same age, same face. The same man I may have murdered.

I turned back to the figure sitting beside me. “Who are you?”

That warm chuckle. This smug fuck. “You ask that often,” he said.

“You been watching me this whole time? Is this your entertainment?”

“No, this is my work.”

I snorted. Having a regular old chuckle fest here. Us chums.

“You’re a fucking sick, sadistic, evil psychopath,” I said.

He said nothing. Those twisting flames.

“Let’s cut the bullshit,” I said. “What will it take for you to let us go?”

“Go where?” he said.

“Home.”

“Why are you so eager to return? What awaits you there?”

“Give me a break,” I said. “How’d you like to go through the shit you’ve put me through?”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

I hadn’t thought of that. “I want my life back. My family.”

“Is this not your life? Has your life ended?”

I sighed. “What will it take? What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“You’re going to stop messing with me, you understand? I’m done.”

I was having a staring contest with firelight, though I couldn’t feel its heat.

“What did you do to Rox?” I said.

“Rox is capable of becoming more than he currently is.”

“You’re not taking my son.”

“Please, tell me how he’s better off with you.”

I stood, took a step toward this man and had an arm around my neck cutting off my air before I even realized what I was doing. I was pulled back into the chair and released. I tried that calming technique that never works, sounding like a bull.

“He’s our son. We love him.”

“Love him so much you won’t let him get well?”

“He has doctors.”

“He has irreparable brain damage.”

“Okay, so. How can you fix that?”

“I can’t. But I can give him purpose.”

“What, a job in your torture factory?”

“Is that what this is?” he said.

“I don’t know what this is. Why don’t you tell me?”

“This is my purpose. My calling.”

“You’re fucking nuts.”

“Show me sanity.”

“Sanity? Go take a look at Cassie.”

“The woman who broke her arm hitting a wall and gouged out a man’s eye?”

“Yes, trying to save her son, you idiot.”

“And did she?”

“She wouldn’t have had to do any of that if you weren’t a crazy asshole kidnapper.”

A period of silence follows every insult. “Remove all the struggle from your life, what’s left?”