Page 1 of Thrust into the Light

1

Darkness has been my only companion for a long time. Well, not my only one, but the only one that doesn’t cause me any pain; it’s my only companion who does nothing to me but exists along with me. My other companions are pain and loneliness. The loneliness part is plain to understand where that comes from—being chained up in a basement with the only person I see being my tormentor. In my dreams, though, I dream of the most beautiful eyes. Seven sets of eyes that are always looking at me, looking for me, or just seeing me. The time I am awake feels like a constant state of loneliness because those eyes aren’t here.

Let’s not forget my companion of pain; it’s always here. Pain is always working its way through my body, even if my tormentor isn’t here to inflict it. I have no clue how long I’ve been down here, but it has been a very long time. When the light is off, I can see all the scars that cover my naked body. Thinking back on a time when there were no scars is hard. Each day, more and more join my body. Each day, the pain and torment cause my mind to slip further away. One day I hope I can escape from here, and one day I hope I can leave at least one scar on his body.

Boots on the floor above me shake me from my thoughts; they’ll do me no good right now. My heart rate picks up; the only sign of fear I can have. If I make a noise, or if I move around too much, HE will punish me. I sit here and breathe, trying to calm my racing heart. A few days have passed since he’s been down here; how much longer until HE torments me some more? Will HE bring his knives, hammers or other tools? Will I need to empty my head and think of nothing but those seven sets of eyesas he does what he wishes with my body?

The door opens, light shining down from the top, blinding me, and I slam my eyes shut. The light in the room turns on, and I hear the tale tell signs of knives, hammers and other things being brought down here. I calm my heart and breathe a little easier. I stopped noticing the pain a long time ago and stopped crying because it only caused more pain. Cooperation is easier than fighting him. Struggling only leads to worse things happening to me.

My chains pull tight as the machines get me to a standing position, and my muscles are not strong enough to do it themselves. My shoulders ache with the pull of the chains; the muscles tear, like it’s about to be ripped out of its socket. Still, I breathe in and out; my heart rate has only picked up a little; this pain is nothing. I am spun around, so my back is to my tormentor. The coolness of the wall is my clue as the wall presses up against my face. My eyes are still closed, and the light is always too much for me.

The blade slices through my skin, somewhere near my rib cage. My tormentor’s hot breath on my skin as he works. I feel my flesh move; him peeling it off me, which is not a new sensation. I need to control my breathing before I make any noise. Panicking pain like nothing I’ve ever known erupts across my back as he takes his hammer and begins using something against my bone. I don’t know what is going on, but I must not make any noise; if I even whimper, it will be a thousand times worse. Breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. This is my mantra, as he does his work on my back. Grunting as if annoyed, I hear a clicking noise, not being able to see what is going on behind me and not dumb enough to look, either. I prepare myself for whatever fresh hell is about to be unleashed upon me.

I think of those seven eyes. Each one differs from the others but is similar in one way. They all carry a sense of kindness in them, something unfamiliar to me, even before I came here. Eyes as blue as I remember the sky being, with little flakes of gold in them. Piercing green eyes like a fresh leaf sprouting inthe springtime, with streaks of brown in them. Rich brown eyes, which remind me of my childhood and chocolate bars, but no chocolate bars I have ever seen have had blue stars in them. Eyes as red as the blood dripping down my back, speckled with darkness. Orange eyes that almost seem like a living flame are dancing in them, like the one skittering across my back now. The eyes that are close to the pure white of my own, but their eyes have a pupil, where my own do not. Their eyes have little streaks of yellow running throughout. The last set of eyes was the opposite of my own, black as the darkness I wish I was in, with no color anywhere else in their eyes. Just an inky blackness that calls to my soul.

Thinking of their eyes gets me through a lot of my torment. Not all of it, though; I feel my face smashed against the wall in front of me. Still, no sound is coming from my lips. I feel hot breath on my ear as my tormentor speaks for the first time tonight, or at least the first time I remember hearing it tonight.

“One day, bitch, I am going to break you, and when I finally do, you will no longer be my problem anymore.”

I hear him walk away, and I wish he was dead. I wish he would drop dead and no longer torment me; let me rot here and die. I know I’m close to it now. The meager food I am given each day, a bowl of broth, does nothing except keep me from meeting my end. The end, I wish he would meet. With the light still on, my eyes remain shut. I drift off, letting my body shut down so it can begin the long process of attempting to heal my skin from his torture.

I don’t know how long I’m asleep for, but when I wake up, I’m still in the same position I was in during my torture. My arms are still above my head, supporting my body weight, and one of my shoulders feels like it was torn out of its socket or broken. The light is still on down here, so my eyes remain shut.

I hear footsteps on the floor above me and people talking. He never has anyone over, and there is more than one set of feet stomping around up there.Maybe I will not be his “problem” anymore.Panic flares in my body at the thought; at least here Iknow what to expect most of the time; anywhere else, I have no clue what would happen to me or what they would do to me.

The door opens, and footsteps that are louder than HIS start descending the stairs. Four steps down, they halt.

“Holy fuck!” a man says behind me, “Sarge, come back into the kitchen; I found a hidden wall that leads to a basement, and you’re going to want to be here for this.”

“Jones, I swear to the Gods above that if you are pulling a prank at a time like this, you’ll be on desk duty for the rest of the month.” Another male voice says, but there was only on set of footsteps?

More footsteps stomp their way through the floor above me, at a much faster pace than I’ve heard before. A few seconds later, they come down the stairs.

“I’m here, Jones; what is so damn important?”

I don’t know what is going on behind me; I can’t open my eyes to see, and I just keep breathing and thinking of those eyes. Those eyes have brought me so much comfort in the darkness.

“Fuck,” the newcomer says. “Dispatch, this is Sergeant Miller Badge 802 over on 1835 Franklin Street; we need EMS and Fire at our location, along with the coroner.”

“Rodger Sergeant, EMS, and Fire are about 10 minutes out from your location; the coroner will be a little while longer; he’s not answering his phone.” A female voice says.

After the female voice falls silent, the upstairs feels like it comes alive with shouting and fast movement. The two males down here stay where they are, talking so low I can’t hear them over the footsteps above, I’m too tired to care right now. My body feels like every muscle is bunched up tight, because I don’t know what these males want, but I can’t keep fighting to stay alive anymore. I can’t keep hoping that one day it will be different and I will be free of this place. My consciousness fades, and I’m back asleep.

2

Idon’t know how long I am asleep or even where I am. As my consciousness returned, I heard a beeping noise, slow and steady. A light is on wherever I am, and I am lying on my back, on I think a bed. It has been so long since I’ve laid in a bed, I can’t be sure what I am lying on, it could be anything. There is cloth draped over me and a pressure on my skin that is unfamiliar. I try to stay still and not move; I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know what will get me punished.

My thoughts spiral into complete chaos by these facts.Am I no longer HIS problem? Did he finally get rid of me like he wanted to? Will this place be better or worse?The thoughts keep coming and getting more and more desperate. The beeping noise gets faster and faster, almost like the beeping is keeping up with my heart rate.

A door opens close by, and footsteps get closer and closer to where I am. A soft female voice near me says, “It’s alright now honey, you are okay, I’m not even sure if you can hear me or not right now but if you can, I just want you to know that you are safe.”

The beeping slows down as my heart rate slows as well, just knowing that whoever this is, isn’t like HIM. She isn’t a male, and she seems nice.

“Ah well, it looks like you’ve calmed down now. Wonder what you’re dreaming about that has you so worked up. Poor thing, I hope you wake up soon so we can get you on the pathway to recovery, honey.” I hear footsteps leave the room. I fall back into unconsciousness again.

Surrounded once again by my companion darkness, I dream of their eyes. Unsure if the eyes are real or just something, I made up to make myself feel less alone. As I float through the inky blackness and see their eyes light up, giving me a beacon in my misery. I begin to feel better, less alone, and maybe a little less terrified. I feel a myriad of emotions as I float here, bouncing from one set of eyes to the next, when I am awoken by a voice near me again.

“We can’t perform any tests on our Jane Doe until she is awake to give us consent. She is stable, and we have gone through all the channels to get the word out to anyone looking for her.” A male voice says.

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