Chapter 1

When I awoke, I was no longer at home in the safety, comfort, and warmth of my own bed. Instead, I found myself alone, in silent isolation with nothing but darkness surrounding me. I tried desperately to remember the events of the previous evening that had led me here; in this room, dark and foreboding as it were, and as cold as ice, but I could not focus. I felt weak, and my mind, hazy. I couldn’t conjure clear images in my head, and my inability to do so only caused further anxiety.

I had to fight with every ounce of strength that had remained in my body just to sit upright. The mattress I was sat upon was cold and damp, and I felt a chill in the air as my body rose. I instinctively wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, in an attempt to keep warm, but as I did, I realized that I was naked. I panicked at that moment and began to run my hands up and down my legs, arms, and chest. I felt no clothing of any kind; I only felt tiny goosebumps perked across my smooth skin.

It was in that moment of realization, knowing I was alone in this unknown place and completely naked, that the fear had really begun to set in. I had heard stories like this on the news. I’d read books about it. Deep down, I knew what was happening even though I would not yet admit it to myself. I had been stolen.

I pulled my knees to my chest and clung tightly to them with my arms before putting my head between my legs and sobbing. I didn’t know what else to do. I was alone and scared, and the cold air that whorled about the room was cutting through my naked flesh and to the bone.

I thought maybe I should try calling out to someone. Maybe someone would hear and come to my aid? Probably not, I thought. I took a deep breath and decided, against my better judgment, to call out to the shadows that surrounded me.

“H-hello?” I whispered, in a low, hoarse voice. “Is anyone there? Please, if anyone can hear me I need help!”

I waited a few seconds but heard nothing but the ambience of the room and creaking wood. I tried calling again, louder this time, but my throat was dry and it pained me just to speak. I realized that I was thirsty, and I began to wonder just how long I’d been down here for. Was it for a few hours? Was it more than a day? What had happened to me? How did I end up here? Why in the hell can’t I remember anything!?

I screamed at myself while I sat on that filthy, cold mattress and spent the next few minutes blaming myself for what had happened, even though I had clue what events had transpired to have led me to this room. I tried calling out again.

“Please ... Please, is there anyone there? I need help ... Please, help me...” I begged, my voice trailing off in the dark, falling deftly on no ears at all. I held myself tighter and resumed crying.

Eventually, I gathered some tiny piece of courage and decided to explore the room. I knew how dangerous it would be. After all, I had no concept of how big this room truly was. Or what secrets it held hiding away in the blackness of the void around me. I wondered if I was alone in the room? Maybe there was some other girl like me trapped down here, too? Or maybe, just maybe, there would some kind of monster down here.

I don’t know why, but for a moment I seriously entertained the idea. I peaked up from between my legs and scanned the room. I couldn’t see anything, of course, and that unknown only caused further anxiety and unsettlement. But even still, I knew I had to explore this place. Carefully, of course, I knew it wouldn’t do me any good to remain ignorant to my surroundings. I knew I had to push on, and I did. I picked myself up from the mattress, my knees weak and wobbly, yet ready to explore the depths of the unknown.

I stepped forward with a single step, and then looked back. The safety of the mattress called out to me; and I knew with each step I took it would disappear, possibly forever. Even still, I took a deep breath and exhaled, then inched forward once more. I looked back again, breathed and exhaled, and continued with another step until I could no longer see the mattress. There was nothing but the blackness, the frigid air, and the musty smell of what I could only describe as a ‘very old crypt.’ I thought then for a moment, and for the first time, that this place could become my tomb.

Even still, I took another step forward. There was still nothing but the cold earth and hard pebbles digging into my bare feet. So, I took another step, and I tripped on something, landing forward on my face and hard to the ground.

I whimpered and held my skimmed knees as I remained in the dirt and clawed frantically with my hands, trying to find whatever it was I had tripped on.

“Come on, come on...” I whispered to myself desperately.

Suddenly, I felt my fingers cling to something cold, and hard. I hurriedly patted it down, trying to figure out what it was. It was round and deep. Made of some kind of metal. As my fingers delved deep into the object, I soon realized it was a dog bowl. One previously filled with water, judging by the wet ground my knees were pressed into.

“Water ... in a dog’s bowl? Are there animals down here?” I spoke in a hushed voice to myself.

“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone down here?” I cried. I started to cough from calling out too loudly. It was becoming more apparent that I was in dire need of water.

I curiously dipped my finger in the bowl. The bottom still held some water. The wetness felt good on my dry skin, and I contemplated for a moment drinking from the bowl. The idea of it repulsed me of course, I mean, I had no idea as to how long the bowl had been there, or who, or what had been drinking from it.

I swallowed and felt a sting. My throat was painfully dry, and I needed water desperately. I quickly exhaled and mentally prepared myself for what I was to about to do. I closed my eyes, grasped the rim of the bowl with both hands, and began to drink greedily from it. The water tasted funny, not awful, but there was something off about it that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But the taste didn’t matter. I had to drink something if I wanted to survive this place, and so I did, lapping it up greedily like a thirsty dog.

I dropped the bowl to the ground as I felt the last drop of water roll down my chin and to the ground below. I wiped my lips with my hand and continued to creep forward into the dark. With my hands stretched in front of me, feeling for anything I could, I took several more steps forward until I came to a wall. I felt the rough, grainy texture of concrete against the palm of my hands. I walked along the wall for a short while, never once letting my hand leave it, as it guided me through the dark. It was both my saviour, and my captor.

Eventually, I came to another wall, feeling with my hands the corners where it met with the other. I wondered if there was nothing but walls here. No doors, no windows, and no escape. This was my tomb. I began to walk along faster, circling the room countless times hoping that each time I would feel a door, or a hole, or some other form of escape. But I never did. Instead, I simply tired myself out and collapsed with my back pressed against the concrete.

I felt my legs and bottom sinking into the mud, the moist and cold ground making me more acutely aware of my situation. Things had seemed bleak, that was for sure. I started to cry as I wondered if I was going to die down here. In this dark room, naked, cold, and alone. Grovelling and afraid, spending my last days wasting away into nothing. Then I heard my stomach grumble. I was starving, and there was no food to be found down here.