I took a cautious shower, feeling very self-conscious about how completely see-through the glass was. I couldn't remember if there was a lock on the bathroom door either, so I tried to to stay aware of my surroundings to ensure I wasn't caught by surprise. 

From what rested on the shower floor that I had found in the cupboards underneath the bathroom sink, it seemed Altonio preferred shower products with coconut scents. Almost all the shampoos and conditioners I had encountered had some kind of coconut in them, so the smell of coconuts filled the entire bathroom. By the time I was clean and had found a towel, I was thoroughly sick of the smell. The upside was at least, that I didn't smell or feel like goo anymore. 

It took me a while to sort through the clothes pile he had left me. It was hard to find clothes that weren’t completely scorched or too dirty to wear. From the looks of the remaining items with the least amount of holes, tears or dirt on them, it seemed like nothing had been left completely unscathed by some sort of fire in the past.

Near the bottom of the fire pile, I found a black plaid shirt with the sleeves burnt up past the elbows, so it was more like a plaid t-shirt. I also found a pair of black denim jeans with holes worn completely through on the knees and a very worn black leather jacket, which almost fit me, but the sleeves were too long. Fortunately, the jacket was so worn that it was easy to roll the sleeves up enough so that they came down to my wrists instead of down past my fingertips.

I cringed at the sight of me when I looked at myself in one of the mirrors.

I look terrible…

But I had to remind myself that fashion wasn’t a top priority- well, not that it ever really had been in my life, but at the moment my eyes were gaunt and despite the shower my skin was still stained black in parts on my hands and face, and probably elsewhere but I hadn’t bothered to check.

After taking one last look at my reflection, I headed towards the bathroom door. It was back to the crazy man, trapped in a crazy place.

_________________________________________________

As I opened the door, and shuffled back to the lounge, I heard the man say:

‘So do you want anything? A beer or something?’

I stopped and stared at him. He was standing in the kitchen beyond the lounge room by a large silver fridge with the door open- holding a glass bottle of beer in one hand.

He blinked. ‘Oh, sorry. I guess you’re not old enough for the stuff yet, are you? I’m not really used to the whole hospitality routine.’

Clearly...

He put the beer bottle in his hand, which was apparently unopened, back in the fridge on its side and closed the door.

‘Aren’t you going to have some?’ I asked him hesitantly when he turned back to me.

‘Nah, I don’t touch the stuff,’ he replied casually.

Did he used to be some kind of alcoholic or something?

‘No, I wasn’t an alcoholic when I was younger, in case you were getting the wrong idea.’

I smiled at him sheepishly. ‘Sorry.’

He smiled back and shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s fine pike. But I may as well tell you why since we might be waiting here for a while.’

‘Uh, you don’t really have to do that,’ I replied uneasily. ‘I’m not really that interested-’

‘Hush, I’m in story mode,’ he cut me off.

Still standing by the fridge, and me now on the couch at his insistence, he began to tell his story:

‘It was on my eighteenth birthday. I was having my first beer of the night to celebrate the occasion. I lifted the glass to my lips and drank some of the beer as people cheered me on. Because I was one of those good kids I’d somehow never tried alcohol before that night so it tasted strange- a lot more bitter than I had expected it to be. A numbness suddenly overcame me and then in the next moment I blacked out. When I woke again I found myself lying in a hospital bed. It had been three days since my birthday.’

‘What happened?!’ I asked in shock. I was genuinely curious now.

He sighed. ‘Well, it turned out that I had actually suffered from an allergic reaction to the beer I had tried that night on my birthday. It's a pretty rare condition but I'm allergic to alcohol itself.’

‘Man, what a way to find out…’ I marvelled. ‘So you can’t drink alcohol ever again?’

‘Nope, not if I don't want to get stomach cramps, have trouble breathing and collapse,’ he replied. ‘But, I guess it was good that I found out about it while I was still young and among friends I trusted. I’m sure I would have died if I had been any older, maybe alone in a pub somewhere. In fact, I almost didn’t make it with my friends there to help me…’

‘So what do you drink when you’re at a party and someone offers you a glass of wine?’

He chuckled. ‘Well, I have to refuse of course. But I’m not disappointed. I’ve tried many different non-alcoholic drinks over the years so I’m spoilt for choice! I don’t think I’m missing out on much.'

‘I guess there is a lot of variety,’ I agreed. 'But why do you have alcohol in your fridge if you don't drink it?'

‘Hey, I may not host often but I do have guests in this place!' 

I remained unconvinced, but before I could reply, Altonio rushed out of the kitchen and into the bathroom without a word! 

He slammed the door shut in the process and left me gawking after him. I fought the urge to call out and see if he was okay, already regretting getting chummy with him over a childhood story. I had to remember he was my enemy after all. 

Perhaps he ate something he shouldn't have? Maybe he likes eating humans...

I shivered in disgust at the thought. 

The minutes passed slowly after that and my strength was also coming back gradually. I could try to ambush Altonio when he came out of the bathroom. If I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, maybe I could threaten him to let me go!

The idea sounded exciting and reckless– like something a protagonist out of a movie or book would do. But I had to douse the fire of my enthusiasm. I wasn’t fast or strong enough yet to carry out an ambush in my current condition despite growing in strength.

Whilst waiting for Altonio to come back, it suddenly occurred to me that the light sources for the apartment were a series of lights hanging down from the high ceiling, not natural light from windows, which I assumed would be a highlighted feature of an open-plan apartment such as this. Instead, heavy looking black curtains that started at the ceiling forbade any light to escape, completely covering where the windows would be.

I cautiously stood up and walked to the curtains. When I tried to move them, they wouldn’t budge. The weights in the bottom of the curtains must have been bricks!

‘Master, your package is here, and it’s-’

I whipped around and on the far side of the room standing in the now open front doorway, I saw a hooded figure. 

Am I not allowed to have a break from creepy weirdos? When one leaves, another comes to take his place!