_______________Dyna's Point of View_______________
My eyes flew open as the sensation of water trickling below the skin of my cheek woke me up. I sat up so fast that the lingering woozy feeling from whatever was in my system hit me harder than ever and I rocked back onto the wall, everything spinning. I was in a round room, I realized, which made this even more unpleasant. As the nausea and dizziness faded, panic set in.
I got to my feet, breathing ragged and harsh, close to continuous shrieking. It would have been if my throat had been in proper working order. It did not take it long for my legs to give way, accompanied by the metallic sound of chain scraping against stone. My hands began to shake uncontrollably and tears poured from my eyes as I took in the sight of my ankle shackled to the dark and damp wall by the thickest chain I'd even seen.
I dry-heaved, nearing convulsions as the moldy scent flooded into my nostrils. After this, I unsteadily crawled over to the wall, sobbing and breathing too fast still. I used the uneven was stones to pull myself to my feet. Once there, my knees weak like they had been filled with water, I turned, pressing my back to the wall in terror. I was not alone…
Across from me lay another woman, her brown hair resembling mine, matted and wet from the water on the floor of our prison. To my left, a man also lay face down. His wispy dark blonde hair was all I could see, and, to my right, my last companion. An obviously older man (closer to the older woman's age maybe…) whose hair was also dark blonde and was, like the others, face down.
I put my fingers to my mouth, whimpering and wondering if I were dead.
As I began to breath fast again, I moved my hands to my head, clutching clumps of hair with my useless fingers. I closed my eyes and sank down to the floor again. It all built up so fast, and everything rushed in on me.
Where was I?
Who were these people?
What had I done?
Who had done this?
My mouth fell open and a helpless screech filled the air, over and over it reverberated against the stone walls all the way to the opening at the top, the only source of light, until I had no more air to make sounds of any kind.
~________________~
It had been at least 30 minutes since I woke up, and I sat shaking (now with cold), my knees pulled to my chest. I clasped my hands desperately, holding myself together on the inside…
My eyes were locked on the man to my left, the younger one. I had almost convinced myself that he was breathing, but I was still too afraid to touch him. My chain was just long enough to reach him if I tried.
Taking a few deep breaths, I slowly uncurled from my fetal position and moved to my hands and knees. Every joint ached as I forced them to work, and moved me toward one of my companions. I slowed as I reached him, silence seeming to press in on me as I reached one hand out toward his body. My fingers stretched forward in apprehension, longing to touch, hoping to keep as far away from him as possible but still feel…
He moved.
I gasped and scrambled backward, my feet on the wet floor and sending water droplets flying.
He looked just as confused, though not nearly as frightened as I had been, on the first sight of his face. His eyes were vivid green, accentuated by his light hair, falling over them on perfect unison, even wet and shaggy. His chin was strong, sitting perfectly between high cheekbones and beneath a strait nose and a mouth made for a crooked smile.
We just seemed to stare at each other for a moment, and I wondered vaguely if he was appraising me as I was him. Surely not. I was nothing special.
Finally, words.
"Where are we?" His deep, even toned voice was such a welcome addition to the drippy echoing sound of my own breathing that had accompanied me until now.
I shook my head, tilting it to the side a bit as my knees automatically came automatically came back to my chest.
"… I don't know."
He looked at me for another moment, and then around us, taking in the surroundings as I had. He reached out and touched a stone in the wall, tracing a spray painted 8 there was on the stone, hos eyes narrowed. I looked around, and at once realized for the first time that we were surrounded by marked stones, all spray painted with an 8 and a letter of the alphabet starting about two feet up from ground level.
He put his hand down, and then noticed the object dangling from his neck at the same time I did. He took it in his long fingers and looked it over.
To my inquiring expression, he said, "It's a tape."
I paused a moment, then moved my hands to my own neck, pulling out my own tape like some gaudy necklace from beneath my navy blue shirt.
We looked at each other again (we couldn't seem to stop doing that…) and then around us as we realized what was happening.
The last two prisoners were stirring.