Interim

Cold, that was the first sensation that returned to me. Nothing but a void without meaning filled my mind until I felt that coldness against my cheek. It hurt… no, not hurt. 

It awakened.

So, jarring, yet my senses were still unclear. Vague thoughts fought for air as this drugged state pulled them back under the waves. Constantly crashing. A pounding in my head!

What happened?

The only thought that made any sense.

Aged shoulders grew weary from the ground. Another sensation. Another use. Muscles no longer were limp pieces of meat. That was good.

Why is it so dark?

Another thought. Strange how I didn’t consider it before. Strange how my usual clarity felt so foreign.

Why do I feel so tired?

Late nights of my youth surfaced in my mind. No… no, couldn’t be that.

I was better than to lose myself to sleazes and the lies they carry. Better than that, to lose my control.

I am always in control.

Then what is this place!

Wait, this isn’t my penthouse. The floors are too rough and covered in dirt. Maybe concrete? Most likely, though feels rushed. Cracks and air bubbles divot the surface as I rub my fingers across.

No! Stop wasting time on the details! Doesn’t matter what this place is made of or the poor workmanship! Focus!

This isn’t right.

What about the light?

Still only darkness surrounded me. At first I had thought I hadn’t opened my eyes, but as time went on I could feel the soft brushing of my eyelashes upon my eyelid. They were very much open, yet I couldn’t distinguish any difference.

Maybe it was just that dark? What reason could I have for being in such a place? An eerie thought probed my fears.

How wonderful.

I positioned myself in an upright position. A struggle in my hazed state. Everything was rubber, a foreign mass to my control. I gathered my breath, deafening in the silence of the room, as I laid my head back. My eyes open to whatever ceiling held above. Still, my eyes weren’t adjusting, but oddly, it doesn’t feel like they should. There isn’t a strain to try and see what’s in front of me. It feels entirely natural to not see.

Very odd.

Very concerning.

I blink my eyes repeatedly, a forceful effort, to make sure they are open. Part of me couldn’t believe this was my true sight. But there’s no mistake, I just can’t see.

The realization was an interesting feeling. How I felt about that development, I couldn’t tell.

Uncertainty.

Sure. That makes sense. It left a sour taste in my mouth.

That then left the biggest question of them all: why am I in such a dark place?

Extremely concerning.

I need more answers.

I take note of my surroundings, feeling the wall and floor, moving every so slightly, checking my hands and legs. Checking everything off the list.

I know I’m not chained. I’m free to move, yet I had the feeling that freedom was greatly limited.

I know I’m wearing my own clothes. Not a great place for a suit. It wasn’t one of my nicer ones, yet it was still a pain. I still had my shoes. Pants surely creased and unflattering. Shirt still tucked into those pants with a belt around my waist. Nothing in my pockets, so there was some consideration before I was placed in here. Blazer was kept but my watch was gone, I was quite fond of that one.

I traced the skin from my neck to my face, two fingers gently brushed by checking for marks. Punctures, bruises, cuts… anything to tell my more.

I need more information.

There’s something wet on my temples, a faint warmth stuck to my fingers. Was I lying in a puddle?

No. The sting from my head proves there’s a cut there, though it seems to have stopped bleeding. I pressed deeper into my temple, the sting such a shock, my finger buzzed as the adrenaline flooded my veins.

A scar. A surgical scar. It had to be. There weren’t stitches to tell me this, but the line was far to purposed to not have been intently made.

Maybe that has something to do with this vision problem?

Can’t be sure.

What else?

Well, if I’m in a room there must be a door, or how else would I have gotten in here? The likelihood that the door would open was such a far cry from reality I almost laughed at the thought of checking for one. Still, information is information.

Standing was dizzying. My legs threatened to collapse me. I pause to catch my breath, determining whether I should go back down or risk a fall. Sick to my core, every fiber of my being was lost. Blood rushed from my head, and I was sure if I had my sight, it would be going dark.

I sagged into the wall, not all the way to the ground, but most of my weight relied on this concrete surface to hold me up.

Stop… being… weak…

Grunting, I pushed myself to my feet, the balance unsure. Holding my arms out into the empty air, I slowly came to stabilize myself. Standing upright and tall, most of the fog in my mind had vanished. My legs still felt disconnected, but what better way to teach a baby to walk than to toss them in a dark room where to survive they must use those fleshy appendages?

Seems reasonable.

I sighed. Jokes don’t get me out of here.

First step always comes first. I slowly make my way across the wall, gliding my hand across the rough texture, counting my steps. A little shaky at first, but the motions soon came to me with ease.

Like nothing was wrong in the first place.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… and so on. One foot before the other.

I reached a corner at twenty, though my steps were much bigger than an actual foot, so I don’t really know how big the room is. Still…

The corner is sharp… 90 degrees.

I turn and walk a few more steps before my foot connects with some protrusions. Heart racing, I braced myself for the ground as a rush of air surrounded me. The air jumped into my lungs, choking my breath on the fear that spiked from this unexpected obstacle.

The ground was hard as my shoulder made contact. I groaned in pain, the soreness an alarming sensation. Anger quickly masked the throb that radiated down my arm.

What was that?

I sat up, both angry and confused as I massaged my shoulder. That’s just great.

Shifting to my knees, I held out my arm, slowly wafting it through the air. So cold as it brushed over my skin.

Until it wasn’t.

A warmth radiated throughout the palm of my hand. I reeled back, unsure what was going on. The heat still lingered on my skin. My fingers tingled from the energy.

What is this thing?

No, not a thing. Someone?

That had to be it. There was another person in here. Trapped in here… Stuck in the messed-up place!

For God knows why!

The body felt warm, meaning the person was alive, just asleep. That was a relief… or was it?

How would I know?

I wasn’t sure if I should wake them up, so I just continued with my counting. Didn’t want to forget.

I stood followed by more steps, taking additional care about my surroundings. The process was much slower than before making it about seven more of my steps before my foot tapped against something else. Another person. I placed a gentle hand against their skin. Warm… alive as well.

I continued around the room, bumping into three more people. All alive, just asleep. Everything was just getting more and more strange. A sensation in my gut growing worse and worse.

I found a place close to where I believed my original spot was. It was familiar, if that even meant anything. I needed to gather my thoughts, each one pulling further out of reach.

Each wall was about twenty of my steps, four corners, a square, concrete room. The only other thing I ran into was a leaky pipe. It felt flaky and rusted, just sticking out of the wall. A steady drop was clearly audible when I was near it.

There was no door.

How did we get in here?

Nothing made sense. Why on Earth would me and these strangers be trapped here! Someone put us here! But how? There’s no door!

I ran my fingers through my hair. A slight oil residue was left on my fingers.

Why are we here?

I may have my enemies, but I have no idea who these other people could be. If this was because of my work, then why were they here?

Maybe this is all just bad luck, and I got taken along with these people and thrown into a dark, concrete room.

The clarity I so desperately needed was a fleeting dream. My mind was far to hazed to think clearly.

What was the last thing I remember?

I don’t remember. I have no idea how long I’ve been in here for or what I was doing right before I got here.

Was it when I was asleep? If it was, how did they get past my security?

Did they just pick me up off the street? But I would have bodyguards with me, right?

I don’t understand. Why don’t I understand? I cursed my failure of a memory. Think! THINK!

Wouldn’t I remember being taken by someone, or at least the moments before? I try to make a mental timeline, but everything is out of order and foggy.The last clear thing I remember doing was sitting in my office.

Alone.

Could that have been when it happened? When I was taken?

If it was then how did they get in? Why did I not fight?

Nothing made sense!

A panic rose in my chest. I needed answers.

“Hello?” I called out. Even though the others in the room were asleep someone had to have put us in here. Maybe they were listening?

Only silence followed. The strange kind of silence that feels too loud to hear anything else. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced that kind of silence, living in a big city and all. It scared me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared.

I didn’t want to be.

I shouldn’t be.

But I was.

Another pause. I sat in that silent void. Hopeless thought were the only ones to break through the haze. Slowly, they chipped away from my fear and anger, reducing it to a dull, empty sensation.

I was tired. There was nothing I could do.

I sighed a weary breath.

What was even the purpose of this?

Kidnap six people, stick them in a pitch-black room, and do what exactly?

To watch?

Maybe the other people will know something or maybe they’ll be in the dark just like me.

Pardon the pun.

Guess all I can do is wait. Something’s bound to happen sooner or later. Right?