Chapter Thirty-One
Daphne
My eyes slowly flutter open to find utter obscurity.
An eternal void. I blink repeatedly, hoping my sight will return.
I try to bring one hand to my face, but my arm won’t move.
I try the other, and it too remains motionless.
Panic sets in as I attempt to stand, but my legs don’t cooperate.
I try to yell for help, but my mouth is muzzled shut, and only pathetic gurgling escapes.
It takes a beat for my eyes to gradually adjust. I can see the floor, and as I look down, I notice what appears to be short metal posts.
I’m strapped to a small metal chair.
I scan the room, but beyond the darkness is nothing. No matter how long I wait, I see only blackness.
I flex every muscle I can, hoping these ragged binds will break. I rock back and forth until I eventually lose balance, falling backwards as my head crashes onto the cold, hard ground.
“Stop it,” a gristly voice commands from somewhere in the room. “Stop it now!”
My eyes widen in terror, and suddenly the chair is violently pulled back into a sitting position, still restraining me. I try to scream, but the gag hushes any sound.
“Silence!” the voice demands. “You will do as I say.”
Where is that coming from?
I close my eyes, trying to recall any memory that might explain what is happening. Several minutes pass before images of the weekend by the pool flood my mind. I was wearing my favorite teal two-piece bikini and soaking up the sun with my firm stomach.
“That was days ago,” the voice utters from somewhere in the room.
How does he know what I’m thinking?
I quickly shift my thoughts to my morning coffee, warm and delicious.
“Good,” the voice says. “You’re getting there.”
I remember the sassy outfit I had hoped would lead to bigger things. I recall going to work, chatting with Beth before the weekend, and… I was supposed to have a date.
“Yes,” the voice says. “Continue.”
I struggle to focus on the eerie words while memories continue to invade my mind.
Is he controlling my thoughts?
I see myself on the elevator, stepping out into the parking garage, and… “Oh my God, NO!”
“You fail me,” the voice whispers in my ear with freezing breath.
I promptly make my eyelids open to find an intense pair of bright red eyes, bloodshot and demented staring right at me.
I jerk and start to fall backward again, but somehow, I’m caught midair and returned to my sitting position. Then the eyes vanish.
“You are going to help me with a little project,” the voice declares from across the room. “I’m not asking you,” it grunts. “There is no point in fighting it. If you cooperate, you’ll suffer much less.”
A tear gathers in the corner of my right eye.
I know these nightmarish visions that have haunted me for so many nights are not dreams at all.
I know how they always end—with my lifeless body lying on the ground, drained of all innocence and beauty.
The mere thought of those lonely nights makes me shudder, and as a tear traces a line down my face and falls into my lap, I feel the despair mounting.
I wince as a strip of thick tape is ripped from my mouth, stealing the glossy layer from my lips as it comes off.
“I understand,” I mutter in fear.
“Let us begin,” the voice asserts in harrowing tone.