I was wrong, so very wrong. I had been here for seven or more hours give or take. The overwhelming smell of blood was protrude I could feel myself slowly but surely beginning to lose consciousness. The cramping in my stomach from the lack of food was unbearable. My throat was as dry as sandpaper and I had stopped drinking my saliva because it seemed to be making matters worst. Being down here had given me the opportunity and time to dwell on the predicament I had woken up in, but I couldn't. As much as I tried, my mind was too concentrated on the overwhelming amount of pain I was experiencing in various areas of my body, that I never knew could feel pain. The little energy within me was beginning to wither. I close my eyes and rest my head against the brick wall in hopes to drift to sleep and wake up from this nightmare.
I was awoken by the click clacking of leather boots on thick aliminium flooring. Glancing quickly around I realised that I hadn't woke up from this nightmare. I scrambled to sit up, attempting to make myself look strong and presentable to whomever was approaching, but deep down I was frit. Perhaps they could provide information as to where I was. The thought that they knew what I had been doing due to the cameras installed so cleverly jumped into my mind. The shriek of the heavily locked metal door severed my ongoing thoughts. A man walks in, he was colossal. So big that it seemed almost humanly impossible. He resembled the look of a large bear on steroids. He was very tall, the voluptuous amount of muscle on him was disturbing. He sported a permanent scowl on his rugged face. His lustrous bald head void of any hair in sight aided the large scar running from his jaw to the corner of his left eye to prominently stand out. He looked as if he'd overdosed on steroids. His veiny, chicken like legs began striding towards me. He whipped out a knife, holding it outwards and stalked closer towards me.
"Please, please don't" I whimper out.
Scoffing, he ignores me. Which was predicted. I don't know why I thought saying please would stop him. Though I wished it did. He raises my hands and holds the large butcher knife up. I close my eyes preparing for my last moments in this world, so many thoughts of things that I hadn't experienced sprung into my head, aswell as the various questions I had and the world I had yet to discover. I thought about all the people that would miss me if there were any at all, I thought of whether or not I would have a funeral, who would attened? Who would cry? Who would present the heart-filled emotional speeches about my short lived time on earth? Or if my body would be dumped into a lake and disregarded? Would the police catch the people that had taken me captive? But instead I feel the tightly knotted ropes that were cutting of the blood circulation in my wrists loosen and drop.
"Try anything and I won't be afraid to dismember your body no matter what boss man says." He gruffs out.
I give a small nod and rub my raw wrists. Suddenly my whole body was yanked up, with a firm grip on my arm by the steroid bear. I bite down on the inside of my cheeks hard, hard enough that I felt the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. The bite was to prevent the scream of pain that wanted to escape from the sudden yank of my already weakened body. He drags me out of the room and out the metal door he'd arrived in.
As I leave the room I send a quick prayer to god. Although I wasn't a religious person at all, or I didn't think that I was.