Captive

Suspense Stories | May 9, 2013 | 16 min read
156 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
She awoke slowly, her head pounding. She opened her eyes for a moment but the brightness of the light made her close them again in pain. She felt each beat of her heart throb softly in her brain and moaned softly. She tried to raise her hand to shield the light from her eyes and it was then she realized her hands were restrained.

Her eyes shot open and she tried to lift her head to see her hands. Crashing white pain ripped through her skull and it felt as if it would split her head wide open. She laid there for a few moments, fighting not to pass out as the pain echoed through her brain. She concentrated on slowing her breathing, and little by little, the pain faded.

She opened her eyes again, a bit at a time, ready to slam them shut at the first hint of pain. The room was not as brightly lit as she first thought. Two low wattage light bulbs shone from bare fixtures mounted on an unfinished, cobweb covered ceiling. They cast twin pools of dirty yellow light pooling just past her head and her feet.

She turned her head slowly to the left inviting another small wave of pain to flash through her head. Her eyes were drawn first to the light streaming in from a small window near the top of the rough cinder block wall. It was wide but short and had a small crank attached to open it.

She let her eyes run down and along the wall and saw it was dominated by a large crude workbench. It was made from unfinished two by fours and pieces of peg board nailed sloppily together. She could see old, rusted tools and scraps of wood and wire scattered along its top, covered in a thick layer of dust.

It took a few minutes for her to turn her head from the left over to the right. Brief flashes of pain accompanied each movement making her feel slightly nauseous. She closed her eyes for a moment to fight down the feeling. She opened them slowly and as her focus sharpened she saw a set of basic, open stairs running up along the right side of the wall.

They were old, the wood unpainted, dirty, and splintered in places. Thick cobwebs ran in between most of the treads and along the crude railing. Her eyes ran up each stair and she could see the bottom of a door at the top and a thin band of light between it and the floor.

Under the stairs there were scattered items piled along the wall. Old musty looking boxes, some ripped and spilling their contents along the floor. They were stacked one on top of the other in tilting piles. It looked like mostly old newspapers and magazines from what she could see. Nothing that would provide any immediate help with her situation.

Her head seemed to be clearing a bit, so she risked again raising it and looking down at her left hand. There was a cheap looking vinyl and Velcro hand cuff encircling her wrist, the kind one would get at a novelty shop or an adult store, a toy, not a serious restraint.

A small chain was attached to the D-ring on the cuff and ran to a small eye bolt secured into the wood table table she was laying on. Pulling her right hand up, she could tell without looking it was bound similarly.

She forced herself to breath slow, feeling the panic wanting to rise in her like a wildfire. She tried to remember what had happened, how she had gotten here, wherever here was. Her brain felt sluggish and slow, not wanting to work correctly, and struggled to recall the information she wanted.

She heard footsteps above her and her body froze. It had been quiet til then and the footfalls sounded very loud after the silence. They echoed loudly against the walls and a small storm of dust fell from the floorboards as they moved across the room above. She held her breath, her ears straining to hear more. She heard a scrape like something heavy moving, then a small shuffling, then silence again.

She again concentrated on her breathing, struggling to quell the panic as it once again threatened to overtake her. Her heart thudded quickly in her chest, but she refused to give into the feeling, just breathe in and out she told herself.

Jim! Her foggy brain recalled, she had been with Jim, and they had been going... somewhere...

It was bright and sunny, she remembered, and they were driving. She remembered laughing at something he said and then the memory started to blow away like smoke.

The harder she tried to recall any details, the fuzzier the remembrance became.

The sound of footsteps above pulled away the last few tendrils of the thought from her memory. She listened as they crossed the floor above, and her heart stopped. The door she had noticed earlier opened. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Some part deep in her mind told her it was better not to let this person who was now coming down the stairs know that she was awake.

The footsteps came slowly down the stairs and she fought the urge to peek as they descended. She heard the persons shoes shuffle on the floor and their steps as they drew closer to the table. She could hear the person breathing, long, slow, and deep as they stood over her.

She felt fingers on her head, poking and prodding some and seeming to study her scalp and it took everything in her not to scream in horror and pain. It felt as if they were digging into her very skull. The effort to be still, not respond, even to wince was superhuman.

She heard them move away, towards the workbench, and she heard the sounds as the person moved things about on it. Soft noises that she could not decipher. The foot steps shuffled back towards her and again her captor resumed the inspection of her skull.

She felt something cool on her scalp, a gentle touching and a rustling noise and a soft pressure. She felt it's fingers run along her cheek, down her neck and across her shoulder. The person traced their fingers along her arm and shoulder again and she could hear their ragged breath. The touch felt alien, cold, and appraising.

This was the worst part, even worse than the pain. This intimate touch, this violation. The flesh on her body crawled like the bugs you see scurry under rotted wood. She retreated deeper into her mind, trying to disconnect from any physical sensations to preserve her sanity.

Her memory from earlier returned as she submerged into herself. Her and Jim, driving, laughing. They had been on their way to the beach, she remembered that now, it was still early spring, and the roads were not yet crammed with the traffic that would magically appear after Memorial Day. She was happy and excited. They had not had much time for each other lately and had planned this day to share some quality time.

Something had happened during the drive, something she couldn't recall, something bad.

Her next memory was of being in the woods, running.

She remembered looking back, seeing Jim running too, but he was covered in blood. She remembered screaming and almost falling, something running in her eyes, running her hand across her forehead and seeing the blood on her fingers.

They were being chased, something was behind them and she heard it coming. She looked back again and saw the fear on Jim's face and heard him scream.

"Just run Lori! Keep running!"

The sound of footsteps going up the stairs brought her back to herself with a start. She glanced over in time to see a pair of work boots and the bottom of a pair of jeans disappear through the closing door.

She felt her eyes well up at the thought of Jim. She wondered if he was OK, was he captured too, was he even still alive? Judging by her whereabouts, it didn't take a genius to guess they hadn't escaped from whoever it was that pursued them.

She shook off the feelings of despair the thought brought her, she closed her eyes again and did her breathing exercise, forcing her self to be calm. She was determined then, determined that she would escape.

She opened her eyes and slowly lifted her head. The pain was more nagging than sharp this time and she was able to look around clearly at her surroundings. She looked again at her left hand and pulled against the restraint lightly, gauging its strength. While cheap, it was still secure.

Looking to her right hand gave her a glimmer of hope. She had been wearing a bracelet on her right wrist. A large enameled piece that had been a gift from her sister Kay. She had bought it for her on their trip to the islands just a year ago and it had instantly become one of her favorite pieces. Her eyes welled up at the thought of her sister, and she wondered if she would ever see her again.

It was a larger bangle style bracelet, nearly and inch and a half thick and fit loosely on her wrist. Her abductor had made a mistake. He had placed the restraint over the bracelet rather than removing it. She turned her right wrist slowly and felt the bracelet slid on her wrist as well as the restraint.

Her breath stuck in her chest, she tucked the thumb on her right hand and slowly pulled up, trying to squeeze her hand from the bracelet and the restraint. She felt it slip up and onto the thickest part of her wrist. That was as far as she could get it. The angle her arm was at prevented her from pulling it up any further. She almost started crying as she tried to pull her wrist free. She placed her feet flat on the table, and pressed her elbows down, using her legs to try and push her body a few more inches up the table.

She froze as she heard noise from upstairs again, not even daring to breathe as she listened. Footsteps again, followed by a short metallic squeal like cheap furniture springs make.

She thought, "Yeah, relax you bastard, I'll be coming for you soon."

She managed to wriggle her body up a few inches, and this time as she pulled and twisted her wrist, the bracelet and restraint slid slowly then pulled over it and slipped easily over the rest of her hand.

She blew out a long slow breath, her whole body now covered in a gleam of sweat from the effort it had taken to free her one hand, her breath coming in short panting sounds like she'd been running. She only allowed herself a moment of rest though before struggling to sit up on her elbows to work on freeing her other wrist.

The world swam before her eyes when she sat up and the pain came back with a vengeance. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and willed herself to stay conscious. After a few minutes, the pain subsided back to a dull roar and she was able to open her eyes again.

She managed to reach across and undo the other cuff from her left hand and pushing her legs off of the side, she stood shakily, holding tightly onto the table for support. Her vision clouded in and out with the thumping pain in her brain. She waited until she was as steady as she could be to move and started towards the workbench looking for some sort of weapon.

She found what she was looking for leaning against the wall to the right of the bench. An aluminum baseball bat. It was a dark flat gray. Black friction tape had been wrapped around its handle, now worn and faded, slightly unraveling and frayed at the end. Its barrel was pitted along it's length and had a large dent on the one side that gave the bat a lopsided look.

Still, it felt right when she took it in her hand. She felt strong.

She stumbled slightly as she started to walk towards the stairs, catching herself on the table. She paused, her breath catching and she listened for any noise upstairs. She slowly started her journey again, being careful to be quiet.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, pausing to rest against the railing, her vision still hazy. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be strong, and began the chore of climbing the steps.

She moved slowly, partially for stealth reasons and partially to keep her vision from graying out. She kept her feet to the sides of each step, trying to minimize the chance that the old wood of the stairs would creak.

A mixture of blood and sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes. She blinked it away, pausing as she reached the top of the stairs trying to gather her strength.

She felt the determination build within her and she gripped the bat tighter, mentally psyching herself up, "I will not be a victim."

Her hand on the door knob, she held her breath and turned it slowly, her ears perked for any noise from the room. She pushed the door open slowly, fractions of an inch at a time, pausing and listening.

She had the door open maybe an inch and she leaned forward and tried to see the room though the crack. The furnishings were neat, but sparse. She could see a couch and the back of a love seat coupled around an older console television to the right. Directly across from the door was an old China hutch that housed a few photos and some small knickknacks scattered on it's shelves.

She couldn't see much to the left and had to open the door another inch before he came into view. She saw him, and her heart stopped. He was sitting at the desk, his back to her. He had his head down and was hunched over something he was studying. She could hear static swirling as if he were trying to tune in an uncooperative radio.

Her heart started beating again and she gripped the bat so tightly in her hand her knuckles went white. Anger now joined her emotions directed at this person who had abducted her.

She gathered her resolve, letting all of her emotions boil up inside of her and fuel her anger and want for revenge.

She squinted her eyes, trying to sharpen her vision. Her head throbbing in pain. She slowly pushed the door open enough to accommodate her slim body and slipped through into the room.

She raised the bat above her head as she crossed the short distance between them. He started to raise his head, but by then it was to late, the bat was already in motion.

She felt the bat connect with his skull with a satisfying thud. He went down off the chair and collapsed on the floor, blood spilling from the point of contact. She grabbed the desk for support, making sure he didn't move, the bat raised again just in case.

Her eyes searched the room, seeing the front door. She glanced down at the man at her feet, when she kicked at him and saw he didn't move, she stumbled past him and across the room.

She glanced back at him laying there, making sure he hadn't moved. Her hand twisted the front doorknob, pulled on it and found the door didn't budge. Brief panic engulfed her before she looked down and saw the deadbolt. She raised her hand to the thumb latch, turning and unlocking it. She opened the door, the bright sun blinding her.

Her heart sang as she went through the door and to freedom, slamming it shut behind her.

**************

Jim sat at the desk and cried.

It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fucking fair.

He had saved her!

He had saved her from the crash and from the.. zombies?

What ever the fuck they were. They had caused the pile up on the road, and then brutally attacked the victims of the accident.

He had gotten her out of the car, she was half conscience, blood running in a flood down her scalp. She was confused and disoriented, but he had made her run. He got her to the house, got her in safely, even as those things pursued them. He could hear them hit the door seconds after he had bolted it closed.

He caught her at the door trying to unlock it as he was busy securing the house. She was in complete shock from the accident and the horror that followed. She fought him trying to get out the door, finally passing out in his arms as he held her tightly to him.

He had chosen to put her in the basement for safety. It was the most secure place in the house should those things manage to get in. He had grabbed his small travel bag as they ran from the accident mostly because it contained his gun, but it also held a cheap set of handcuffs he had brought along with more pleasurable thoughts in mind than what he was using them for now.

He had secured her to the table and checked her wounds. He was scared by the amount of blood she had lost. He went back upstairs and searched, finding a first aid kit in the bathroom. He had brought it down and tended to her wounds the best he could. Then he had come back up and was trying to find the news on the radio when she hit him.

His fingers lightly played over the lump on his skull from the bat. He had been awake enough to hear the door slam, then her screams started a moment later as "they" overtook her.

He finished the note he had been writing,

"Forgive me, I can't face this alone"

There were tears in his eyes.

It wasn't fair, he had saved her...

He brought the gun to his temple, his finger tightend on the trigger, and he went to join his love.
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