Tammy blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Memories of the previous day flooded back, washing over her in a single, crashing wave.

A thumping ache in her head competed with the ocean that was her mind as she cupped her skull with both her hands, groaning in pain.

"Didn't mommy ever tell you to not talk to strangers?" a male voice chimed, disorienting the nineteen-year-old further.

A door above her opened, forcing Tammy to squint.

"Or are you just stupid?"

Suddenly, the reality of the situation dawned on her. "Where am I?" she called out, an unmistakable hitch in her voice.

"You're in my basement," the man said as he scooted down a ladder. "Had to be sure you wouldn't run."

He flashed her a quick, arrogant smile before kneeling. "I'm sorry about your head," he apologized, touching his own brown locks.

Confused, Tammy reached out and tapped her hair gently, recoiling her hand as a searing pain exploded through her skull. In her palm was a tattered strand of copper hair, blood coating the entire tress.

Her gaze shot back to the man hunkered down beside her. When she spoke, her voice trembled. "What have you done?"

He was either tanned or incredibly dirty; Tammy assumed the latter, as his hair was shot in all different directions, and the stands were matted and clumped, coated with at least a week's worth of oils and grime.

"Tammy, isn't it?" he questioned, his eyes falling on her lips. "How old are you, Tam?"

Trying to hide the tremble in her hands, Tammy bit her lip. "It's Tammy," she replied, ignoring his question.

Two small dimples appeared either side of the man's mouth as he smirked, his gaze raking over the deep worry lines etched into her face. "Alright, Tam," he mocked, his grin widening.

Silence settled around them as they stared one another out.

"I'm not going to lie, I was hoping for a better reaction," the man spoke before standing up. "There's always next time, eh?"

With that, he was gone; leaving Tammy behind in the dark.