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Captive

I find myself in an older mans house. His tone is kind but there is a twisted glint in his eyes that matches the way his lips curve up slightly. He’s telling me to do something on his computer. I walk up to it and wiggle the mouse around to wake up the monitor. I click a few things before he starts talking again. He asks if I’ve noticed his mouse. I pull my hand away and look. It seems to resemble parts of fingers varying in color, size, age… His twisted smile grows bigger as he sees my confusion. “Did you notice the way your middle finger curves gently as you pull the mouse back? It’s the perfect way to create that arc…” Now I’m thoroughly confused and he chuckles. “I’d like one of your fingers”

I back away, horror flashing across my face, sure that this must be some kind of sick joke. His grin is now absolutely insane, however, and I know he’s not joking. I glance towards the mouse and realize those were real fingers he’d taken from other people based on how they fit the mouse.

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