Taken

1

         Where was the light? The only thing I could see was dark. Pressing in around me. Suffocating me with it’s thick presence. A ragged rope bound my arms and legs, slicing into the bare flesh slowly and brutally. A dirty rag filled the corners of my dry mouth, leaving my shallow breathing to only exit from my nose.
         My head rest upon the cement wall, a cold sweat mingling with tear-stained cheeks. All was concrete, my existence was in this concrete box. At my feet a musty and dirty pillow awaited for its time when I was to need it. A torn blanket was draped over me, itchy and flea infested.
         I was taken six days ago by a man with a white mask. He had snatched me walking to school, a casual walker, head hooded, headed innocently in my direction, As he passed I gave him a brief smile, but then he turned around and grabbed me from behind. His rough hand covered my screaming mouth, I kicked my legs wildly, but his grip only tightened. He dragged my away to his car. He sat me in the front seat and then nothing.
         I had awoken in the concrete building, I had discovered my bound limbs and silenced mouth. Through a groggy gaze, I could see a lantern at the opposite end of the building, and beside it sat the man in the mask He was holding what appeared to be a newspaper, and in hand he held a pencil. He would sit and think for a moment, and then scribble furiously on the paper. “Crossword.” He spoke without glancing up at me, and continued his scribbling. I willed my eyes into opening further, and tears began streaming down as I remembered what had happened. A feeling I had never known began pouring over me. Panic, fear, horror, rage, sadness, uncertainty, all mixed into one. A cold sweat swept over my body, violent shivers, nausea. I wanted to scream, to pound the masked man into the wall. How could he be so calm and laid back? I began shaking, rage seeping out of me, my furious body didn’t want to restrain anymore. The ropes around me tightened, cutting into me more severely than ever.
         Finally, the masked man got up and walked towards me. This shoes clapped on the ground, every step more rage would shoot through me. He came to me and knelt down, stroked my hair and whispered, “Stay calm dear, it would be a terrible loss for me to have to kill you, a terrible loss. Oh, how I would love to tell you all that is in store for you, my love. But alas, I cannot, not at this time at the very least. However, we do want you to be healthy as well…a meal for you.” He pulled out the rag from my mouth, my throat was too dry for me too talk. He set a bag down in front of him and began feeding me the food. “Ah, I’ve always wanted a pet. Eat up now sweetheart, eat up.” When I had finished he pushed the rag back into my mouth once again. “Now, I must bid you goodbye. I will return as soon as I can, and tend to you.” The man bent down and kissed the top of my head, a shiver ran down my spine. He smiled at me, a chilling psychotic smile, and left the building with a giddy laughter.
         Everyday had been like that, he would feed me, and lead me to the outdoors to go to the bathroom. He would try to let me run a few feet in front of him, like a dog might do, when I would refused he would get frustrated and tell me I was a bad pet.
         Three days of this, long days of painful ropes and dry throats. On the fourth day, he never showed up. The darkness remained for an entire day, I began to become frightened. Though the man was sick, he would always come for me, and tend to me. It appeared he was the only one who even knew I was there. I sat alone in the darkness for three days, sitting in my own filth, and blood from my leg and arm wounds.
         I had been asleep when the loud banging started, a constant, rhythmic banging. I pulled myself up from the slumped position I was in and started at where the door was located. A final bang resonated and then I crash, light flooded in, blinding me. I could hear heavy boots on the cement, thudding heavily. When my eyes began to adjust I saw a large man in a white mask similar to the one my original captor had worn. I stared up at him and he looked behind him at the door. “Boss? Uh, what do I do with this?” Another man, smaller and skinner came around, he too wore a mask.
         “Van, idiot. Make sure to put some new binding too, those are all bloody and shit. Tape should do the trick, for the mouth too.” The big man nodded and picked me up, I was too weak to fight back. He carried me out to a large black van where he dumped in the back. He carefully pulled off the rope bindings which had worked themselves deep into my skin, and duct taped them, slightly above the raw and bloodstained flesh. He then pulled the rag out of my mouth and torn off another piece of tape and placed it over my mouth.
         “It’s alright, it won’t get any worse than this, I promise.” He whispered and smiled kindly at me, I was utterly confused. I noticed my previous slew of feelings were replaced with a calmer, safer feeling. I looked back at him with a softened gaze and he nodded and slammed the backdoor shut. The skinny man took the driver seat and the large man took the passenger, and then we began our journey to The Facility.