Locked Memories

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She wakes up in an unfamiliar place with Amnesia. But her loss of memory is the least of her worries right now. She paused. She could hear a dull scrape of metal against metal. And breathing. Uneven, muffled breathing. She inhaled the sickly-sweet smell of rotten wood, the musty, damp smell of the uneven stone walls, along with something else, something that filled her with an all-consuming fear. Blood. Will she escape? will she regain her memory? will she meet friends on her journey ... or make enemies?

Thriller / Adventure
Age Rating:


Her brain felt like it had been scrambled. She didn’t know where she was, she couldn’t remember anything, not her own name or what she was doing here. She didn’t remember but she knew this definitely wasn’t her room, first and foremost her room wouldn’t smell like rotting food.

As her vision gradually came into focus, she found the room looked as bad as it smelt. The ceiling, walls and almost everything else (which wasn’t much) was covered in cobwebs and a layer of dust so thick she could barely see what was under it. She tried to lift her hands only to realise they were tied to a very old, very rusty chair. It probably doesn’t weight too much, she mused, she could probably lift it with no effort.

The room looked as if nobody had entered in a century, except there was someone there, someone besides her. Sitting straight ahead of her was a man. He didn’t look human, his skin seemed as though it had been stretched across his face and his smile made the rooms temperature drop by a few hundred degrees. His hungry blue eyes were looking at her, no, into her as if searching for all her secrets. Her mouth opened as if to scream but no sound came out, her throat was as dry and cold as the room. He was waiting, she realised, waiting to see what she would do. A chill ran down her spine, a chill so cold it felt as though someone had dropped ice down the back of her shirt. She needed to get out. She had to escape.

When she didn’t do anything, the man seemed to get bored and left. She heard him enter another room. Was there someone else trapped here besides her? Who? She had to help whoever it was, she decided, but first had to get out herself. She felt around the back of her chair looking for something to help her cut off or loosen the ropes. Then she felt it. The edge of the chair jutted out in an angle. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut the rope but was thin enough to get between the knots and help her loosen them. She worked quickly though her trembling hands didn’t help her. She worried her heartbeat was loud enough to make that inhuman creature come back, but he seemed to be more interested in whatever was in the other room. As soon as the ropes fell to the ground soundlessly, she leaped to the door and twisted the doorknob but of course it was locked. The man may not seem human, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Afraid he might come back, she went back to her chair and dragged it closer to the door. Careful not to make a sound, she moved it enough so it wasn’t noticeable but would make a difference to her plan. She loosely tied the rope back around her wrists, loose enough to easily slip off later.

The next time the man came in the room he brought what she supposed was meant to be food with him. He bent down and placed the foul stuff at her feet, revealing fresh marks on his arms, as though someone had scratched him in attempt to break free. The food looked as if someone had eaten it and spit it back out, and the smell was ten times worse.

Without giving her a second glance, he exited the room and closed the decaying wooden door, but not before she jammed her shoelaces between the edge of the door and the door frame. She waited for him to enter the other room, her chocolate brown eyes darting from her spot to the door and once she was sure he was out of ear shot, she slipped off the ropes and massaged her wrists. If she was going to get out alive, she was going to need a weapon. She picked up the chair and furiously wacked it against the wall breaking the rickety thing into pieces. She picked up a large piece with a fairly sharp end. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do for now.

She tugged at her shoelaces and the door handle at the same time. She had probably never felt such relief as she did in that moment when the door opened with a soft creak, revealing a long narrow corridor. Of course she didn’t remember if she’d ever felt as much relief before but she’d have to work on her amnesia later.


This my first times writing a story for an actual audience so plz have mercy on mah writing skills. Anyways enjoy~

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