I, once again, woke up dazed and confused in an uncomfortable chair with an even bigger pain in my stiff neck. Based on the reoccurrence of this, I'm hoping that it won't become an everyday thing.
I opened my eyes, momentarily blinded by the bright light in the room. My head was spinning as I waited for my eyes to adjust and evaluated my surroundings.
The room was small, and made of concrete. I was laying on the firm cold floorstains and marks, making it pretty obvious that I was in some psychopath's torture dungeon.
You just had to get Chinese, didn't you.
I started to analyze what had happened. I left the hospital at 8:23 PM. The distance from the hospital to the library was less than half a mile. Based on my brisk walk, it would have taken me approximately 9 minutes, meaning I would have arrived there at 8:31 PM. I had a short conversation with Harry, so about 4 minutes, and the leisurely walk to the Chinese Restaurant would have taken me 2 minutes. So, my time of abduction would be approximately 8:37 PM.
The last thing I remember was a pressure on my neck. It wasn't the correct spot of my pressure point, so that eliminates the theory of a chokehold. My nausea, shaking, and severe headache are leading me to believe that the abductor must have injected me with an anesthetic—far too much for my body weight, thus causing these symptoms. I must have been out around 8 hours due to the miscalculation of the drug, making the current time 4:37 AM.
Now my circadian rhythm is completely fucked.
In the corner of the room, I noticed a standard security camera. I'm being watched, and since I am awake, my abductors will most likely be making their grand entrance soon. I thought through my options:
1. Scream like a maniac and cry hysterically. The normal reaction to being drugged and abducted. Reacting like this would be absurd, not to mention expected. No amount of yelling will free me, and it'll most likely piss off my captors and get me killed faster.
2. Try and escape. A risky endeavor to say the least. My lack of muscle and stamina would put me at a disadvantage. My captors must have thought the same thing, seeing as my ankles are not restrained. I mentally scoffed at their judgmental assumption. The door has a standard double-cylinder lock. Easily pickable, but I lacked the resources and tools to unlock it. Even if I unlocked it, I'm assuming I'm in the basement, so I would have no clue how to find an exit.
3. Remain calm and make myself comfortable before my ultimate demise.
I'll go with option 3.
I stood up and adjusted my bound wrists behind my back, grateful that I was bored one summer and read countless books on survival techniques. I tensed my shoulders and flung my arms forward with all my strength. The zip ties rubbed against my wrists, burning my skin. After the third try, the zip tie snapped in half, freeing my hands. I rubbed my raw wrists and sat down. I straightened out my stiff legs, placing my right over my left. I sighed as I closed my eyes and placed both of my hands behind my head as I leaned against the concrete wall, directly facing the door.
I couldn't help but laugh as I leaned against the blood-stained concrete wall. I felt calm, at peace even. I know that I'm most likely going to die down here. Scratch that, I'm definitely going to die down here, but it was worth it knowing my mom was taken care of. I didn't just pay for her current bills; I also paid for all future bills as well as paid for better, more effective medication and treatments. She's taken care of, and that's all that matters.
At least I was able to live one day of my life carefree. And I'd rather spend one day alive than 100 years merely living.
My thoughts were rudely interrupted by a rather loud conversation outside the metal door. I closed my eyes again to focus on what they were saying. They were speaking fluent Italian, a language I fell in love with when I was 15.
"What the fuck do you mean she just woke up? How much of the stuff did you give her?"
"150mg, Boss."
"You're aware that you were trying to knock out a woman, not a fucking horse, right?"
"Sorry Boss."
"You idiot. How many times do I have to go over this with you?"
I couldn't help but get annoyed as their argument continued outside the door. I've already mentally prepared myself for death; the least that they can do as my gracious captors is hurry the heck up and make it happen already.
I cleared my throat loudly, causing their voices to halt mid-sentence. The lock on the door clicked loudly, echoing off the walls of the room.
The door opened, revealing two men. The first man to walk through the door was lean. He wore a plain white button-up shirt, black slacks, and expensive dress shoes. Underneath the white material of his shirt, ink designs made themselves apparent, giving me the impression both of his arms were covered in tattoos. His hair was messy and untamed, adding to his boyish appearance.
"Leave us," a deep voice ordered from the hallways. The man looked at me, face full of pity, before he obeyed. A man in black slacks and a black button-up dress shirt stepped into the room. He was tall and very muscular, his muscles tight against the soft material of his shirt. His sleeves were folded up his forearm, displaying the ink that graced his tan skin. His tattoos covered his hands and fingers, some extending up to his neck, but they were slightly covered by the collar of his dress shirt. His hair was a tad shorter on the sides, and longer on top. His dirty blonde hair was combed back neatly, not a single wavy strand out of place. His face looked like it was carved by Michelangelo himself. His beard was neatly trimmed, the perfect length to complement his sharp jawline and adding to his intimidating appearance. His face was unreadable. My heart fluttered as his crystal grey eyes met mine.
At least if I'm going to die, I'll die by the hand of the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on. Hallelujah.