My head was in pain. A jolt of searing heat ran through my left leg. It felt as if someone were stabbing my bones with a butcher's knife.
Afraid, I opened my eyes slowly. For the life of me I couldn't remember what had happened. I remembered running through the woods, searching for Lacy. But after that it all was so fuzzy.
Putting my hands down I felt cold concrete. Suddenly a chilly wind swept through and I shivered. Wherever I was it was freezing.
I attempted to open my left eye, but when I managed to open the lid, another wave of pain ran through my temple. Something had happened to my left side.
Finally building up the courage, I looked around. Only, I wasn't able to see much. The place was pitch black. Turning around, arms spread wide, I tried feeling for a wall. I was met with another set of cold, wet concrete.
From somewhere nearby I could hear a faint drip of a pipe, most likely rusted and neglected. I pushed my mind for an understanding of where I was.
Walking forwards, my injured leg felt as if it were on fire. Although I wanted to get away from this place, my body wasn't going to allow it. Rubbing my hands over my face, I felt, with widening horror, dried blood. My blood.
"Where am I!" I screamed. I hated the dark and I hated not knowing what was going on. All I knew was that I had been beat up pretty bad and I couldn't possibly be in a safe place.
Searching for my phone, I realized that all my gear was missing. Cell phone, backpack...my pistol. Everything. Gone.
I had heard Anna's screams. She was crying at someone. I was in the woods, and I'd heard her outbursts. It had came from ahead of me, along the path.
I was beginning to remember. I had to, I had to find my way out of this place.
I followed her voice for a good mile, yelling out her name, coaking her to come to me. Then I'd heard a man's screams. He was yelling at someone. At Anna, I was sure.
There might've been a third voice. But it was muffled, only saying things at great intervals.
Then there was a gunshot. I had started running faster, positive I would reach the girl soon. When the gunshot rang out I stopped dead in my tracks. Which one had been shot? Who fired?
Falling to my knees, I decided this was the best way to move for the time being. My left leg was in worse pain than I had ever experienced. My head was pounding and I felt my brown hair stuck to my head from the dried blood.
It was so difficult to move. In the darkness I had no idea where I was going, but I continued on, bearing the pain and the unknown.
"Anna!" I remembered screaming. The woods had gotten thicker. From somewhere off in the distance I saw an opening, in the shape of a circle. There were logs and a bonfire pit. I could see myself slinging my backpack off and kneeling to the ground. Buried under a reasonable amount of dirt was a necklace. It was a gold locket.
My ability to move was becoming almost impossible. My breathing was ragid and I could feel every muscle in my body starining to take another crawl. It hurt like hell. Suddenly I stopped dead still. My outstretched hand felt something. Something I'd felt just minutes ago.
Concrete.
I began to panic. With renewed strength, I turned to my right and walked farther. Eventually I was met with the same outcome.
I didn't need to make another turn. I knew what was there. I was in a room. A concrete room on a concrete floor.
Like a dungeon.
Fear overtook me. I was handicapped from my leg down, I couldn't remember what had happened before I got here, I couldn't even remember how long I'd been here. I felt my eyes heat up. I wanted so desperatly to cry. I wanted to call out for help.
But who would be there to save me?
Dean. I let out a muffled cry. Why didn't I convince him to help me? Did he know I was in trouble. I hoped beyond anything that he was out there searching for me, looking for me. I needed him now more than ever.
"I have to see him again. One more time. I have to tell him I'm sorry." I said to thin air. I had left Dean messages telling him how horrible I felt, but it wasn't like saying it person. I had to let Dean know that I still loved him and I hated the things I said to him.
With newfound determintation, I stood up. My left side cramped up, but I wouldn't let that stop me. I had to find a door. If it meant dealing with a most likely broke leg I didn't care. I was going to find a way out.