The engine rumbled as the collector pulled into the driveway, parking the van inside the garage. The man whistles as he checks through his mail, he had to make room for his new pet.

He wanted to keep Arkin close, the man was far too clever for his own good. He could simply keep him inside the box, let him sit in his own filth when he's not freed to empty his bladder.

No, he couldn't risk the smell alerting anyone to Arkin's presence. He'd seen on the news the man was wanted by police for questioning after he'd vanished from the hospital.

The collector couldn't help but laugh at the irony, Arkin was a prisoner either way you looked at it.

The room directly across the hall from his would have to do, he could easily watch Arkin from this vantage point.

The collector begins his work, screwing four locks on the outside of Arkin's door, a latch for a padlock and finally small notches to screw the door securely closed with a drill.

It would be a pain to re-screw and unscrew everyday, but this precaution was required to keep Arkin as his captive.

Wooden boards are nailed over the window, a metal ring bolted into the floor, chains looped and melted in place.

Manacles attached to the beds headboard and legs, leather cuff straps are also applied for fun.

The collector was going all out, there was going to be no chances of Arkin escaping this time. The room was a finished, handmade prison.

All that was left was its lone occupant. The man's hands clasped together as he makes his way back towards the garage.

Pounding from inside the red box greets him, Arkin was still fighting to get out. The collector retched the doors open, shoving the box down in the process.

Arkin's muffled scream is returned in full, followed by a painful groan as the box hits the ground. The collector smiles beneath his mask as he pulls the bottom of the box out of the van.

Arkin landing hard once again on his skull as the box thuds onto the garage concrete, when he got out of here, he was going to kill this mother fucker.

The collector begins whistling once more as he, none to gently drags the box inside the house and up the stairs, relishing in every pain filled response he gets.

Soon enough he's reached the room, Arkin's new home for the remainder of his life or until the collector grew tired of him, whichever came first.

The latches are unclasped, padlock removed and box opened to reveal a battered, bleeding and bruised Arkin O' Brien.

Arkin clenches his eyes closed as the light from outside pours in, he can feel his captor undoing the manacles around his wrists, only to rebind them behind his back with a pair of handcuffs.

Ankles and thighs soon follow being freed from the box, Arkin struggles as he's pulled to his feet and thrown on a large bed "What the fuck is this?"

The collector doesn't respond, he couldn't understand Arkin due to the gag anyways. Instead he chooses to push the man's head hard into the pillow "Sshhh"

Arkin tries to pull his head up and out of the man's clutches to no avail "What the hell, man? What the fuck is all this?" He could barely understand his own words due to the tape.

The collector pulls painfully on Arkin's hair once more, hand ripping the tape off before running his hand down the length of the man's body "Arkin"

Arkin stills at the contact, this wasn't right, the collector hates him, wants him dead, so then why is he here? "What the hell are you doing?"

The collector grabs hold and twists Arkin's ankle, not enough to break bone, but to get his point across "Shhh, Arkin"

Arkin attempts kicking the offender away, but his grip was unrelenting, he'd have to do as he's told for now. The younger man's head nods, body stilling "I'll shut up now"

The collector slowly lets the appendage turn back right side, a small cuff is soon encasing the foot, clicked tightly shut "Good boy"

Arkin lowers his head at the pain, his right leg soon following, he wanted so badly to kick this bastard in his god damned face.

A wire he's used numerous times for his deadly traps is knotted into the cuffs confining Arkin's hands, the collector runs his finger along the edge, going up and allowing Arkin to see the large blade tied to the other end, hovering just over the bed.

Arkin really shouldn't have been surprised, what's next? Bear traps lining the floor? Maybe some acid? But this fact did unnerve him, if he shifted just a tiny bit, he'd be chopped in two.

It's no secret why the collector picked this trap, Arkin wouldn't be able to move, he can't pick the lock on the cuffs if he can't move a single inch.

The collector gets off his prize, taking in the man before him, his Arkin. He was really just a kid, still in the training stage. "Sleep"

Arkin glares at the order, although he could feel he desperately needed it, he wouldn't bring himself to be this man's plaything.

The collector tilts his head as his demand is ignored, this was why Arkin was his favorite, he'd be the best trophy he's ever broken.

His switchblade is pulled from his pocket, opened and hovering over Arkin's right cheek, directly over the healing scar where the wire trap had cut him.

Arkin remains glaring, gaze not faltering a bit as the blade meets his skin, he can feel the blood falling as the slice is made, re-opening an old wound.

The collector grows tired of that piercing gaze, he puts away the knife to pull out the duct tape and stapler once again, stretching a large piece taut from the roll.

Arkin takes a deep breath through his nose, being gagged was one thing, but having his sight taken from him? That's two senses this man's taken in one day.

The man above sneered as he drew closer with the tape, eyes faintly catching sight of a small wool of thread.

A new, devious idea began to form as the man exits the room, Arkin had no time to do much of anything before he returned.

"What are you up to, you sick fuck! You enjoying this?"

The collector picks up the thread, knotting it into the long needle "Sshh, quiet, Arkin"

Arkin spits in the man's face as he lowers down "You fucking freak! What the hell is your problem, man?"

The collector uses one hand to hold Arkin's jaw, the other draws fourth with the threaded needle.

Arkin can't struggle due to the wires connecting his wrists to the above machete, there was nothing he could do to stop the asshole. "Don't you fucking dare, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you!"

The needle tip is hovered just below Arkin's bottom lip, collector gazing into the so called fearless man's eyes "Sssh"

Arkin's scream rises as the needle punctures the skin, blood pouring as the thread is forced through the tiny hole.

The collector whistles as he pushes the needle into Arkin's top lip, sewing the two firmly closed.

Tears rush down Arkin's cheeks from the pain, eyes begging for the man above him to stop, only to be answered with another pierce.

Blood is wiped away as the captor continues the torture, using a cris-crossing pattern as he goes along "Arkin"

Arkin glares, half of his mouth is tied shut, the collector glowering above him as he watches the younger man, studying his every crevice and reaction.

What he was hoping for, Arkin hadn't any idea, the man bravely opens what little bit of his lips he still could to attempt a curse.

The collector moves swiftly, he takes his time effectively stitching Arkin's mouth closed, the younger man's pitiful whimpers were his reward.

Arkin's eyes clench shut in pain and resignation, the collector now knotting the final lengths of chord into a tight, little knot.

The collectors finger glides over the stiches, he could hardly see Arkin's lips due to the heavy twine, he still wasn't done though. If he truly wanted to break his new toy, he'd have to do much more.

The collector forces Arkin's head up, keeping the tape directly in front of the boy, he chuckled as Arkin tried breathing in, his blue eyes narrowing as if in challenge.

The duct tape is smoothed over the piercing blues, stapler leveled at the tapes edge before bonding skin and tape together.

Arkin gasps in pain, body shifts to get far away from this man and his situation, the collector continued along the tapes entire length, stitching his eyes into the darkness.

The collector plays with the boy's gag, running his fingers over the twine holding Arkin's mouth. Fiddling with the knots between the creases of his lips "Sssh, sleep"

Arkin wrenches his head back, words screaming into his gag as his captor exits his prison, he can hear all four locks keyed into place, a padlock clicking closed and a drill ... Wait, what?

Arkin's body moves forward, the wire being pulled in the process, quickly the man leans back into place, rebalancing the blade above.

The drilling continues, Arkin can hear the nails being driven into the wood, his heart leapt and blood froze ... The collector was nailing the door to his room shut, sealing him inside.

From what he'd seen, the only window had been boarded up, not like he could get to it, first he had to ditch this wire and cuffs.

If the collector thought this could hold Arkin, he had another thing coming.

Guys I am so sorry to have gone silent for so long, so much has happened! I moved into an apartment and in 3 months time I'll be living in my new house!