Page 3 of Captured Onyx

Eyes closed or not, I know that something terrible must have happened to me. I know that I'm in danger.

My eyes fly open in a sudden rush, as if waking myself up from a terrible nightmare.

But this isn’t what happens. I don't wake up because I’m already awake. And I am no longer where I should be, in a luxury hotel suite that my best friend's generous husband reserved for me. There's no canopy bed lulling me into a sense of security, no thick, expensive curtains framing floor-length windows, or French doors leading out to a balcony with a view out to sea that was more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen.

There is none of that.

Because I'm no longer there. The room I find myself in now is so different that I can't fool myself for even a second into thinking that I might still be at the hotel in Atlantic City.

First of all, this space is a lot smaller. I am lying on a bed, a queen size bed with dark sheets. My ankles are tied to the bed frame, my legs slightly spread, stretching the fabric of my dress. And even fueled with this ice cold fear for my life, I cannot help but wonder why anyone would tie up a person in this manner. I’ve seen it before in movies, the helpless kidnapping victim with their hands and ankles tied and fastened behind their back, or a person sitting on a chair with their hands tied behind their back and feet strapped to the chair's legs.

But like this? The closest I can think of is the way a deranged sadist would tie his prey to the bed before sexually assaulting or torturing them. Spread out like a star with all four limbs stretched out and tied to the four corners of the bed frame.

I’m thankful that this is not the position I find myself in. I am less exposed, because I can still move my arms, to some degree, and I can sit up. I can move, but for some reason, I don’t.

The room is dark, barely lit by a single light bulb right above me. It's only bright enough to illuminate the area right around the bed, and the rest of the room remains obscured in shadows. As far as I can tell, there’s not much to see to begin with. Four walls, no windows, and a door to my left. There’s no other furniture, no wall hangings or decor, nothing. It’s just a large cell with a wooden floor, four bare walls, and a simple bed in the middle.

It has nothing in common with the room I was supposed to wake up in this morning.

Before I was kidnapped. Taken. Whatever you want to call it.

I opened the door expecting to see Liliane, but it wasn’t her face there. That’s pretty much all I remember.

No. I remember that there was a man standing there. A tall man.

Not even a second passed before he charged at me.

And then my world went dark.

Until now.

I’m beginning to think that someone’s trying to fuck with my head.

The noises outside the room don't stop. Again and again, I hear doors being slammed, footsteps shifting back and forth, the shadows breaking the light that finds its way inside the room underneath the door.

This seems to go on forever, and my heart jolts every time I sense a motion or hear a sound from outside the room. Fear washes through me in waves, receding and rising in turns, depending on how imminent the danger from the outside world seems. My heart calms as the activity quiets down outside the room, returning to its frenetic pace as soon as there's even the slightest sign of another human close to me. I'm all alone, lonely in the dark, but whoever is out there, cannot possibly be my friend, can they?

That's why I don't call out. That's why I remain silent, even when I hear another set of footsteps approaching, accompanied by voices for the very first time. Deep voices, male voices.

My heart races, so fast that it makes me feel dizzy and sick with terror. Once again, I see shadows lurking in front of the door, but this time, they don't just pass on their way somewhere else.

This time they come to a halt.

And so does my breath.

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