Chapter 1
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The small hand of the large grandfather clock moved closer to twelve as Thomas sat staring at this, his only way of telling what might be going on outside of the room that was his prison. People would be leaving work for lunch, teenagers and children would be at school studying.
And Thomas' wife would wonder where he was and why he wasn't home last night.
He leaned back against the chair that had been his hell for the last twenty-four hours and stared at the ceiling where a single bulb hung. It was the only source of light in the room and he found it comforting to stare at regardless, of the burning pain in his eyes.
He looked away and his eyes strayed to the door. No knob. Only a dead bolt that could only be activated and deactivated with a key. Who had this key, Thomas did not know…
He was late again. Alice was going to be on his case if he didn't rush. Thomas pushed his thirty-seven year old legs to go as fast as they could, the bag of groceries heavy in his hands. He rounded the corner at the end of his street and stopped abruptly. Something didn't feel right.
He shrugged it off as bad nerves and continued to walk, albeit more slowly. He turned onto his front walk, and heard rustling in the shrubs and flowers to his right. He paused and shot his gaze that way. His cat, Checkers, came strutting up to him and rubbed against his leg. His heart was beating a furious tattoo on the inside of his chest but he reached down, scratched the feline behind the ears and continued on.
He was halfway up the walk before he felt the sharp pain in his head and fell, unconscious, to the ground…
He knew Alice would think nothing amiss. She would think that he had stayed at work with his cell phone off. It had happened many times before. It could be another couple of days before she thought anything of his absence.
He was alone.
In an empty room, devoid of any features but the chair, the bulb, the clock and the locked door.
He began thinking of what anyone could want with him. He was a simple computer programmer with a wife and a cat. He had done nothing to harm anyone as far as he knew and yet here he sat. Thinking. And for all of his thinking, nothing came to him and he began to drowse…
Checkers was dancing. She was up on two legs and doing a jig. Thomas stared, uncertain as to what was happening. He approached her and bent to pick her up, but she danced back. He began to make chase but she danced just outside his reach every time he made a swipe at her.
Finally, sick of the silly game, Thomas dove at her. He landed hard with a gasp and lay there for a moment. He knew that he had hit Checkers but he couldn't feel her beneath him. He stood and looked at the spot he had landed. There was nothing there. Checkers was gone, vanished into the nothing that surrounded him…
A slamming door jarred him awake. A caucasian man wearing clothes of no particular interest was facing away from him, sliding the dead bolt back into place.
"Hey! Who are you? Where am I? What do you want with me?" he began yelling the moment he was fully awake. The man turned to look at him. He was wearing masquerade that covered the top half of his face but Thomas could see his sardonic grin and he hated him all the more for it.
"Which question would you like me to answer first?" the man asked. Thomas began to respond but the man cut him off. "I'll answer all at once if you'd like. I am a man of little importance, a simple janitor in a building not far from your own office, and this is my home. What I want with you is of no matter because the simple truth is, I want nothing with you. You are simply a distraction from the mundane. I do grow oh so tired of the boring mockery of a life I live in the outside world so I come here where life is as I want it to be."
"But…why me?" Thomas stuttered out.
"For the simple reason that I knew you would not be missed, at least for a little while," the man's grin was now replaced with something just short of a frown. "I'll be right back," he said and turned back for the door.
"Don't do this! I've done nothing! My wife will know I'm missing," he paused. "Get back here!"
The man ignored him and unlocked the door. He swung it open and Thomas leaned forward, hoping for a view of the world outside, but the brighter light from beyond the door temporarily blinded him. But as quick as the door was opened, it shut.
"Hungry?" The man now faced Thomas holding a slightly wrinkled brown paper grocery bag. Thomas' grocery bag. His heart sunk, but he was grateful because he was fairly hungry.
"Yes," he answered. The man pulled a baguette out of the bag and threw it on his lap.
"Enjoy," he said and turned for the door.
"Wait!" Thomas yelled. "Aren't you going to untie my hands?"
The man stood halfway through the door. "Now where would the fun in that be?" He stepped through and was gone.
Thomas struggled against the ropes that bound his wrists. Now that the thought was in his head, he realized he was ravenously hungry and he had to reach the bread. He began struggling harder, and harder until finally one hand got free. He didn't even pause to work on the other one. He grabbed the bread and took a large bite. Too large in fact. He began to choke. He started to pound himself furiously on the chest but to no avail.
He leaned back against the chair. Too hard. The chair fell backwards and Thomas closed his eyes for the impact that was sure to come.