Illusion of Safety (Disillusioned #1)
Prologue
My head throbs.
It feels like a heroic feat just to open my eyes. I can’t see. There’s no light; no sliver of brightness to penetrate the black depths of my surroundings.
My chest feels heavy. There doesn’t seem to be enough air, and I can feel the burn in my lungs with every inhale. Why is it so hard to breathe?
Where am I? Why can’t I remember anything before right now?
Darkness overloads my senses; the taste and smell of loam envelop me.
It’s so strong, I have to fight back a gag.
I can feel my heart racing against an invisible force, beating at what feels to be hundreds of miles per minute.
I need to fight the panic long enough to think straight, but it’s nearly impossible.
I take a small breath to steady myself and make a concerted effort to take stock of my body. Maybe I can figure out where I am .
Restraints.
Coarse, thick rope cuts into my wrists. The skin beneath the rough fibers feels raw. I attempt to break free from the bindings, pulling my wrists apart, but it only hurts more. Nothing I do loosens the rope—no matter how I maneuver my fingers and hands, it won’t budge.
Abandoning thoughts of breaking free, I wiggle my legs. They’re untied. I kick out, my feet colliding with something hard above me. Next to me. Beneath me.
Wood. The sound of my bare feet hitting the planks is unmistakable.
It’s everywhere.
I’m trapped.
Heart quickening, I close my hands into a fist and pound whatever solid surface I can reach. The sound ricochets in the small space, causing me to wince. Dirt drifts down, settling on my face and making me cough, forcibly expelling what little breath I have left.
I still.
No, no, no.
This can’t be happening.
How long have I been down here? How much time do I have left?
Memories flash. A cloth on my face. The distinct, sweet smell of chloroform. Rough hands bruising my arms. A sharp pinprick in my neck. Then, nothingness.
Oh, god. I can’t breathe.
I know I should save my breath, but the panic doesn’t abate; it only heightens to a fever pitch until I swear my heart will give out.
I just need someone to hear me.
So I scream.
Someone help me.
Please.