What Exactly Happened: Part 9

He could easily tear Ryan away from him. And yet… Ryan stared up at the face of the man in front of him, looking at him in pure disgust, and his heart sunk. He looked just like Michael. Just like Michael had looked years ago. Like he did before he disappeared. The same cruel smirk. The same cold look in his dark eyes. Nothing had changed. He was still a psychopath. Ryan was still his prisoner.

"You've changed," Ryan finally spoke. The words were barely audible, but he had to say something. Anything to break free of the suffocating grip that this man was having over him.

The man gave him an amused look. "What do you mean?" he responded, sounding slightly puzzled.

"You're different."

"I am?" the man said, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well," Ryan paused briefly for effect. "You don't look the same."

A slow smile formed upon the man's lips and he chuckled quietly as he ran a gloved finger gently along Ryan's cheek. "No?" he asked rhetorically, shaking his head lightly. "How can you possibly tell?"

"Because you don't really look the same," Ryan answered simply, shrugging. "You're not quite yourself."

The man chuckled again, a soft chuckle laced with sarcasm and amusement. "Why do you say that? You think I'm different?"

"You sure act different," Ryan replied quietly, almost too quiet to hear. "Different than you have before." He watched the man closely as he spoke, trying to read him. Trying to figure out what he was thinking, searching for some kind of sign, hoping to find something, anything that would explain why he hadn't recognized him earlier. Something that would tell him that this wasn't just an act. That it wasn't just pretending. That the man truly didn't know him. That he wasn't just putting on a show.

And yet, he found nothing. There was nothing there. Except for that same cruel smirk that he was familiar with. A smirk that had become the symbol of so many of his worst memories. So many memories that he didn't want to think about, didn't want to remember. They brought back terrible emotions. Memories that had haunted him all his life. Memories that had destroyed everything else, leaving him in constant torment. In constant terror, waiting to see whether that terror would turn into something more. Waiting to discover if that new, horrible fear would be born from anger, hatred, or despair. And if so, whether he would live through it.

"You don't look very well today," he remarked, tilting his head slightly to the side and looking Ryan directly in the eye as he spoke.

"You don't look too good yourself."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"All of it." He paused momentarily, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought. Suddenly his mouth opened and he let loose an involuntary scream, jumping backwards as quickly as he could, stumbling into the wall behind him, banging his shoulder painfully against it. The scream tore its way out of his throat, shattering the silence that had fallen over the room. The sound rang loudly throughout the room, ringing in Ryan's ears for so long that he eventually had to cover his ears to drown it out.

He stared in horror at the man opposite of him, whose face was contorted in pain and fear, whose hands were now pressed to either side of his head as he screamed in agony. Slowly, he pulled his hands away and placed them flat against the wall beside him, leaning heavily against it as he attempted desperately to regain control over himself.

To be continued...