His voice is all I hear … whispering to me like a snake right before I fade away.
“Shhh, it’ll all be over soon.”
Accompanying Song: “Semaphore ?” by Max Richter
When I come to again, the first thing I feel is a roaring headache. My lungs burn when I breathe through my mouth. A metallic taste lies on my tongue, and I swallow to make it go away, but it lingers. Everything hurts. My head. My mouth. As if I’ve been hit a couple of times, but I can’t remember a thing.
And when I open my eyes, I’m still so dizzy; I can barely make out a thing.
It’s dark as night. Not a single light surrounds me except the one at the far end of the room.
The room … with no windows.
No plants.
No sunlight.
Nothing.
All I can see is a gray concrete wall surrounding me.
I try to get up, but my feet don’t feel like they belong to me, and I struggle to get anywhere. But I don’t give up. I keep crawling across the floor, hoping to make it to the light, just so I can see where I am.
But I can’t.
Not because my muscles gave up.
But because I physically, literally can’t.
Between me and the light … is glass.
I turn around, trying to find a way around it, but there’s no crack. Not a single one in all the glass surrounding me. Not even at the top as I try to stand on my toes. Nothing … but glass.
A cage.
My heart stops beating.
The panic rises again, bubbling to the surface.
I open my mouth and scream, but no sound comes out except for a faint sigh.
Just like always. My voice was taken from me a long time ago. And I know no matter how hard I try that no one will hear me.
Where am I? Who was that man? Where did he bring me and why?
With my back against the glass panes, I sink to the floor.
I can still barely make out my environment or feel my own skin. I’m numb from the drug he gave me and numb from the shock.
But I still don’t cry. I close my mouth and stop breathing. I stop moving. Like a rock, I stay put and pretend I’m not there.
Why?
Because something across the room, not far from me, still captures my attention.
Something lurking in the dark behind the glass.
I’m not alone.
Chapter Three
Accompanying Song: “Theoretically” by Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein
Cage
There she is. In the living flesh.
The girl from the picture.
Mine.
I stare at her from across the room, not moving an inch. She seems locked in place. Her lips trembling. Her fingers clutching her thin clothes. She seems terrified.
She should be.
It’s dangerous here.
She shares my fate now.
But I don’t want to scare her any more than she already is. So I stay put and watch her from my bed. I don’t want her to do anything to hurt herself. She’s too precious. Too important.
Too pretty.
Her long, pearly white hair is completely in tangles from her ordeal, but it doesn’t make her any less appetizing. Especially with those doe-eyed looks she keeps giving me.
She smells nice too. I can’t stop sniffing the air around me; that’s how in love I am with her scent. I can’t stop looking at her. Can’t stop wanting to inch closer. It takes every ounce of self-control not to. My body is greedy … yearning to finally meet this girl sitting only inches away from me. But I know I have to be patient.
Patience … that’s what he always says.
So I sit and stare … all through her waking up … and even after she’s already seen me.
Our eyes lock.
I’m not going to pull my eyes from hers.
I want her to see me.
I want her to know I’m here.
And that neither of us is going anywhere.
Accompanying Song: “Theoretically” by Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein
Ella
The room is so dark I can barely make out a thing. But there’s one thing I can clearly see.
A man in the corner sitting on a bed.
I swallow away the lump in my throat and try not to move.
I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but I know it can’t be good.
Is he the one who took me? Or a fellow captive? Or something worse?
So far, he hasn’t said a word or moved a muscle, and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s sleeping … if he’s even alive. But it can’t be because he’s looking straight at me.
And for some reason, it feels impossible to take my eyes off his.
After a few seconds, I manage to tear them away and I quickly scramble to the bed. Then I gaze around the room, looking for an exit. My cage is made entirely of glass. To my left is a black door leading into my cell, which I assume is locked. To my right is a small, square box inside the glass wall. I wonder what it’s used for.