There was nothing but steaming, sweating green reaching to the
horizon in every direction. Ferns, large sweltering bushes, thick, prickly
tree trunks complete with heavy branches thick with large leaves. Anne
angrily brushed the pulsing foliage out of her way as she desperately tried
to follow her captor and caretaker. A few rays of harsh sunlight slanted
their way through the branches and vines, illuminating a patch of vilely
colored mushrooms here or stagnant looking puddles already begging to moss-
over there. All over, the smell of decomposing life of all kinds permeated
the air like incense. Anne found her nose wrinkling in disgust as she
moved, her PJ's plastered to her body with a salty glue that stuck her hair
to the back of her neck with a displeasingly grimy feel.
She longed for a bath, for clean clothes, for air conditioning and a soft bed. She wanted the mansion back, as odd and out of place as she felt in it. She'd give anything to be back in their unnoticing gazes again, being ignored in comfort, rather than lavished with ransomed attentions in a festering swamp. She grimaced as her bare foot plopped into a warm pile of muddy ooze, leaves and twigs sticking out of the mess. She growled with dissatisfaction as she wiped her foot on a nearby tree trunk, stifling the urge to vomit at the sight and smell that now surrounded her.
"It's not far now." The voice came from up ahead. Not enough ahead to let her escape back through the putrid landscape behind her, but enough to laugh quietly as she stumbled through the torturous muck of his accursed "home". She kicked a clod of dirt at the voice, wondering just how far was "not far now." It seemed as though she had been following his voice for ages. She wondered if much time had passed, days, weeks maybe. She could barely feel her legs now, her calves caked with mud, and her impeccable pink toe nails hidden now for good. Her head was beginning to spin with the assuredly toxic fumes that surrounded her. Her eyes were red and stingy, watering beyond help and blurring her vision to the point of blindness. She had never felt this wretched in her entire life, and the sheer force of it over-whelmed her. She stopped for a moment, one hand placed as gingerly as possible on a slime covered tree as she paused to calm her churning insides. She blinked, tears streaming down her face, her other hand covering her stomach protectively. She leaned over and began gagging, coughing, and she could feel her throat getting tight. Her stomach lurched, and she began coughing more violently, expelling whatever was left in her emptied stomach. She fell against the tree, her eyes stinging, her throat burning and scratching and everything about her completely miserable.
"We're not but a few feet out, I promise. Just stumble a little bit further and you'll be in comfortable dwellings. Just a bit further."
She could barely make out his figure, save those yellow eyes of his, but she could feel him near her. Even in the heat and stench of the corpse-like jungle, she could feel him, feel him breathing lightly on her check, cool and gently. She closed her eyes and swallowed her throat still tight and sore. She nodded, or thought she did, feeling her hair shudder around her neck. Somehow, she managed to move her legs, her knees shaking and weak. The foliage seemed to lessen, to be quite as oppressive the more she stumbled on, and soon she was met with a pleasing yellow. sand. It felt cool and grainy between hr toes, and she found that she could still wiggle them. Sunlight streamed down fully on them now, but even the rays were cooler than the shade of the land behind her. The air was clearer, lighter, and clean. She found herself smiling, then laughing, and holding her arms out to air in the glorious sun that cast an almost loving glow to her. Her steps became lighter, springier, and she found herself skipping, letting out large breaths of clean air in loud, exalted whoops.
All she could hear was his laughter, his low, amused chuckles from underneath a heavily fronded palm tree. "You'd think you'd never been outside before, the way you behave."
"You can't tell me that you enjoyed that. hell hole." She pointed towards the dark wood, almost drunk with fresh air.
"Didn't enjoy it, didn't not enjoy it. Woods is woods to me." He shrugged, his eyes peering intently at her from the shadow. "Now come on." He nodded over his shoulder towards a large boulder, craggy and gray with small patches of moss clinging to its sides. Anne stumbled toward it, kicking puffs of sand up her shins as she moved. As she got closer, she could make out a door, a small metal door in the rock, thick bolts sticking out of the edges threateningly. She wondered how something so industrial could end up in such a place as this, then realized this was where she was being taken. The man in front of her placed his palm onto the door's surface and pressed, the metal door opening, aching metallically on its hinges.
"Come on," He said, motioning for her to follow him. "We're here." And with that, he slipped inside, disappearing into the dark behind the doorway. Anne looked around. Behind her was nothing but the forest of eternal sickness, and the sand after that stretched onward in both directions with no sign of stopping, or meeting a road or water. She sighed. There was really nothing for her to do but follow. Oh, sure, she could run and try to find some sort of shelter before nightfall and forage for food, become a veritable Anne Caruso, but who was she kidding? She couldn't cook macaroni and cheese or wash her own socks, how in the world was she supposed to play survivor until her uncle figured out where she was? Because it was only a matter of time before he did, he always knew, and he always came. She might as well just play along and get a free shower and a hot meal out of it before the Calvary arrived. And oh, what a Calvary, she grinned to herself, imagining Bobby in his oh-so-fitted leather suit. Her grin turned into a smile. Perhaps playing the damsel in distress wasn't such a bad way to live.
And with that, she followed dutifully, gasping as the cold air of the corridor hit her like a knife, and the door slammed behind her with and echoing clank.
She longed for a bath, for clean clothes, for air conditioning and a soft bed. She wanted the mansion back, as odd and out of place as she felt in it. She'd give anything to be back in their unnoticing gazes again, being ignored in comfort, rather than lavished with ransomed attentions in a festering swamp. She grimaced as her bare foot plopped into a warm pile of muddy ooze, leaves and twigs sticking out of the mess. She growled with dissatisfaction as she wiped her foot on a nearby tree trunk, stifling the urge to vomit at the sight and smell that now surrounded her.
"It's not far now." The voice came from up ahead. Not enough ahead to let her escape back through the putrid landscape behind her, but enough to laugh quietly as she stumbled through the torturous muck of his accursed "home". She kicked a clod of dirt at the voice, wondering just how far was "not far now." It seemed as though she had been following his voice for ages. She wondered if much time had passed, days, weeks maybe. She could barely feel her legs now, her calves caked with mud, and her impeccable pink toe nails hidden now for good. Her head was beginning to spin with the assuredly toxic fumes that surrounded her. Her eyes were red and stingy, watering beyond help and blurring her vision to the point of blindness. She had never felt this wretched in her entire life, and the sheer force of it over-whelmed her. She stopped for a moment, one hand placed as gingerly as possible on a slime covered tree as she paused to calm her churning insides. She blinked, tears streaming down her face, her other hand covering her stomach protectively. She leaned over and began gagging, coughing, and she could feel her throat getting tight. Her stomach lurched, and she began coughing more violently, expelling whatever was left in her emptied stomach. She fell against the tree, her eyes stinging, her throat burning and scratching and everything about her completely miserable.
"We're not but a few feet out, I promise. Just stumble a little bit further and you'll be in comfortable dwellings. Just a bit further."
She could barely make out his figure, save those yellow eyes of his, but she could feel him near her. Even in the heat and stench of the corpse-like jungle, she could feel him, feel him breathing lightly on her check, cool and gently. She closed her eyes and swallowed her throat still tight and sore. She nodded, or thought she did, feeling her hair shudder around her neck. Somehow, she managed to move her legs, her knees shaking and weak. The foliage seemed to lessen, to be quite as oppressive the more she stumbled on, and soon she was met with a pleasing yellow. sand. It felt cool and grainy between hr toes, and she found that she could still wiggle them. Sunlight streamed down fully on them now, but even the rays were cooler than the shade of the land behind her. The air was clearer, lighter, and clean. She found herself smiling, then laughing, and holding her arms out to air in the glorious sun that cast an almost loving glow to her. Her steps became lighter, springier, and she found herself skipping, letting out large breaths of clean air in loud, exalted whoops.
All she could hear was his laughter, his low, amused chuckles from underneath a heavily fronded palm tree. "You'd think you'd never been outside before, the way you behave."
"You can't tell me that you enjoyed that. hell hole." She pointed towards the dark wood, almost drunk with fresh air.
"Didn't enjoy it, didn't not enjoy it. Woods is woods to me." He shrugged, his eyes peering intently at her from the shadow. "Now come on." He nodded over his shoulder towards a large boulder, craggy and gray with small patches of moss clinging to its sides. Anne stumbled toward it, kicking puffs of sand up her shins as she moved. As she got closer, she could make out a door, a small metal door in the rock, thick bolts sticking out of the edges threateningly. She wondered how something so industrial could end up in such a place as this, then realized this was where she was being taken. The man in front of her placed his palm onto the door's surface and pressed, the metal door opening, aching metallically on its hinges.
"Come on," He said, motioning for her to follow him. "We're here." And with that, he slipped inside, disappearing into the dark behind the doorway. Anne looked around. Behind her was nothing but the forest of eternal sickness, and the sand after that stretched onward in both directions with no sign of stopping, or meeting a road or water. She sighed. There was really nothing for her to do but follow. Oh, sure, she could run and try to find some sort of shelter before nightfall and forage for food, become a veritable Anne Caruso, but who was she kidding? She couldn't cook macaroni and cheese or wash her own socks, how in the world was she supposed to play survivor until her uncle figured out where she was? Because it was only a matter of time before he did, he always knew, and he always came. She might as well just play along and get a free shower and a hot meal out of it before the Calvary arrived. And oh, what a Calvary, she grinned to herself, imagining Bobby in his oh-so-fitted leather suit. Her grin turned into a smile. Perhaps playing the damsel in distress wasn't such a bad way to live.
And with that, she followed dutifully, gasping as the cold air of the corridor hit her like a knife, and the door slammed behind her with and echoing clank.