Page 73 of Dissension

Stay calm, stay calm.

She struggles harder, straining uselessly against whatever restrains her.

A whimper slips past her lips and she hates herself for that. She’s helpless; this is how peopledisappear.

Her breathing turns panicked and her nose burns with the harsh scent that surrounds her. It’s a terrible, abrasive smell of antiseptic, mixed with something thatreeksof copper in the undercurrent. An odor that makes her feel dizzy. It smells like a place that someone has repeatedly dumped cleaning supplies over in an attempt to hide somethingfar worse.

Kara has an idea what that ‘far worse’ is and it’s something she wants no part of. Worms of fear wriggle in her guts. The chemicals sedating her are wearing off.

Her ears are clogged up; there must be something in them, dulling her hearing. She strains to listen to her surroundings, but there’s only a faint droning sound, like a fan moving far away. Muffled noises that could beanything. Fear continues to compound as she lies there completely defenseless.

She can’t see. She can’t run. She can’tfight. Whoever has taken her has all the power to do whatever they want with her. There’s nothing Kara can do to stop them.

The waiting feels like an eternity of sinking in quicksand. There’s no telling how long she lies there consumed by the terrors in her own mind. Trapped. Time has no meaning in this place.

Ha. She thinks that ‘X’ might have mentioned something like that, but Kara can’t remember for certain.

So, she waits and waits and waits, the ache in her tied wrists increasing, the arm she’s lying on goes numb, and the idea that no one is going to let her go to the bathroom soon rears its ugly head. Of course, no one is going to help her, these people live on torment and humiliation!

Why did they take me?Kara wonders desperately.What triggered them to come after me? Was I too close to figuring something out? Was it because I was going to speak to the police? The PI call? It doesn’t make sense. Was I really bugged?

None of it makes sense, but she’s going nowhere fast.

She could have been in this wretched place for hours already.Even a day.It’s impossible to know with the drugs in her system.

And so, there’s no warning when it happens. Nothing to prepare Kara at all when her pained solitude shatters.

Large hands grab her tied ankles and Kara thrashes instinctively like some sort of violent worm as fierce, red-tinted fear splashes behind her covered eyes. There’s not much she can do, hog tied the way she is, but dammit, she’s going to try. A scream rips out of her throat as she’s viciously dragged away, her head smacking into what must be the door jam on the way to whatever hell she’s being dragged to.

Her shirt shifts as she’s dragged across the tile, her bare skin exposed, her tied hands aching and jolting with pain at the uncomfortable position. God, where are they taking her, what are they going to do-

“What do you want, motherfucker?!” Kara shouts, her throat feeling rough and dry. Her voice sounds like it’s underwater and she wonders if she would even be able to hear a response. She suspects her kidnappers don’t care to speak to her. They plugged her ears after all.

“Don’t do this, I didn’t ask to be here,” Kara barely hears herself beg. If this is The Room, they take people who are looking for the abyss, don’t they? That’s how they get their video victims, right? Well, she didn’t ask for this, so why is she here?How did they pick her?

Nearly wiggling out of their hard grasp, Kara snarls and screams wordlessly in terror and outrage, blending into something near untenable. The need to survive is maddening, screeching in her mind like a car crash.

They may have covered her eyes, restrained her and put plugs in her ears, but they left her mouth ungagged. Theywantto hear her screams. These sick bastards.

Her skin feels raw and burnt as she’s dragged further to some endless destination of doom. Kara’s imagination runs wild, thinking up every horrible thing they might be planning to do with her.

In The Room…it could be just about any sort of mutilation.

Suddenly, they stop moving, signaling to Kara that they have reached their destination. Her bowels turn liquid, knowing this is where the real pain starts. She’s maneuvered to her knees, a large gloved hand on her shoulder, keeping her down and in place. Kara senses rather than sees someone else moving around the space, feels the breeze of them walking past on her face.

The scent of sweat, antiseptic, and faded aftershave. An aroma of despair.

She tries to bite at the arm near her, but she is rewarded with a vicious yank on her hair and a slap across the face that rattles her brain.

The shackles around her ankles are hooked to something that keeps her legs locked in place on the ground as she kneels on the hard floor. She can’t move her legs out of position, not even if she wanted to. Trapped, like an animal. It’s straight out ofa terrible movie, like a soldier about to be interrogated by the enemy, but in a fashion against the Geneva Convention.

The man in charge of her body positions her how he wants, slapping her forcefully whenever she disobeys or moves, pain burning across her cheekbone after a few repeated blows. Kara realizes with a sick feeling that they are preparing to video her for some monsters to watch and get their jollies off to…they are trying to set the scene before they get started on her.

Even though she cannot see, Kara imagines a camera being set up, someone seeking the perfect lighting. A man viewing her through a lens just so, looking for the best angle to drink down her torment.

She gags, dry heaving, but nothing comes up. Her body begins trembling uncontrollably. With her vision blocked and her legs shackled, there’s nowhere for her to go.

After a few moments of waiting, Kara feels her hands being untied from behind her back. The discomfort of blood rushing back into her digits is excruciating. Hot pins and needles. She wonders if they are videotaping the tears running down her face.

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