Author: Heather Grey PM
It's a cold prison with no way to escape... [Oneshot]Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Suspense/Horror - Words: 485 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 05-03-06 - Status: Complete - id: 2166600
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Summary: It's a cold prisonwith no way to escape…
By: Heather Grey
There is so much coldness surrounding me. The chill in the air caresses my skin and I tremble. The sensible thing would be to warm myself and I would if I could. Yet I'm bound to the wall, my slender wrists and feet, wrapped in chains. Trapped in this small prison where there's no escape.
I never was claustrophobic, though I feel I'm developing the fear at every passing second. I estimated the wall in front as an arm's length and the sides to be two full strides. I'm not sure if I'm correct, I can't test my guess. Tied to the wall and I can't break through.
There's a crack of light, so thin, on the ceiling, I hope I'm not hallucinating. I tried to scream for help, but it's impossible for me to speak. My throat clogs up and my mouth won't move to form words. I am silent within these four closed walls.
I do not remember how I ended up in this chamber of terror; everything is dark in my mind. I go to move my limbs and to my horror I cannot feel anything! Looking down, my body is intact (to my relief), but I couldn't move with all my might.
Maybe since I've been in the same position for hours, my extremities have fallen asleep. Yes that's it!
I'm sure once my captor comes (for how else could have I ended here), I can have my questions answered.
So stiff and freezing, I stand waiting for my captor to reveal himself. As I gaze out at my tomb, a frightening realization plagues my mind. There are no doors! How can my kidnapper come to check me if he cannot get in? And if there are no doors, how did I get into this awful place?
Stricken by panic, I knew I am to die. I must have done something so horribly wrong to be punished. If only I could remember!
Hours… days… years past, who can keep track of time?
If I were to die, it would be of starvation. I cannot recall the last meal I had pleasure in consuming. My stomach doesn't grumble and I fear it must be because I do not remember what hunger feels.
Is this a twisted game of sorts?
Oh God, if only my blank mind could create a picture of how I led to this fate. It would be a comfort to know my true reason for being here….
"Mommy! It's just what I wanted!"
The ceiling rips open and up away I go, to become face-to-face with a little girl in pigtails.
"Wow! A Darbie doll! Thank you Mommy!"