Chapter 2 - The Subject

Marie

I paced the room in circles for what felt like hours. Four bare white walls, one thick metal door, no windows. I had a mattress, a toilet and a sink. Food was posted though a slot at intervals but I never touched it, just in case. It was a stupid thought, why would they go though the trouble of kidnapping if they wanted to poison me? It didn't make any sense. None of it did.

A masked guard entered the room a few hours later, covered from head to foot in protective clothing. Two others, similarly dressed, held me down as a few drops of burning liquid was spotted onto the back of my neck. Almost instantly, the voices faded into nothing until I was left properly alone for the first time in five years.

At some point, the lights went out, then back on after a considerable time had passed. I wasn't sure time even exited in a place like this; it all blended into one indistinguishable blob.

Later, I was escorted past the metal door, down a sterile hallway and allowed a quick, cold shower. I was given a pair of over-large but clean scrubs, before being steered back to my room, which smelt like it had been doused in disinfectant while I was away. A few items had been added as well; a much needed blanket on the bare mattress, toilet roll and oddly, a pair of fluffy socks. How did they know my feet were cold?

I gratefully shoved my feet into them and wrapped myself in the heavy blanket. The bed felt a bit too exposed directly across from the door, so I sunk down into a corner of the room, trying to squash down the fear that threatened to burst from within me.

Each day, characterized by the artificial change in lighting went by in the same way. Food was posted and left undisturbed. Showers were taken and a fresh pair of scrubs left outside the curtain. The 'silencing solution' was administered forcing the all the voices to hush, and I was left with an unnerving sense of abandonment. And the open-ended questions that formed on my lips, always ignored.

I'd never thought I'd miss my own shitty bed as much as I did. It came with the shitty, one-room flat above a Chinese take-out place I barely made enough to rent. Sometimes I even had to scavenge leftovers from the dumpster out back near the end of the month.

But at least I had a place to complain about, and a job. I'd probably make more money as a stripper in the seedy bar across the street, although I hadn't quite sunk as low as to take my clothes off for money yet. Momma raised me to be a polite, demure southern lady and I couldn't quite stomach the idea of lecherous old men staring at my practically naked body. Besides, you needed to be twenty-one.

I shivered involuntarily and pulled the blanket tighter around myself. I'd inspected the small, clinical room in which I was being detained many times and I still couldn't shake the unsettling feeling of being watched, despite the lack of evidence. Just like the feeling of his eyes on me, the handsome stranger, the night it happened.

It was a slow Tuesday night and I'd had nothing better to do except general house keeping and staring longingly out the window for a customer to wait on. The shifts generally went faster when there was someone to chat to other than boss's nephew, who worked the kitchen.

That's when he walked in. Bringing the crisp smell of an October evening in Nebraska along with him. He was tall, unshaven and walked with a subtle kind of confidence that commanded complete attention. His gaze was intense, almost electrifying as our eyes met. I thought I would melt onto the floor in a puddle. He was gorgeous.

The man slipped into the corner booth and threw me a half smile. I'd had the vague impression he was amused by me. It took a few seconds to realize I'd been openly gawking at him from the moment he came in. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I struggled to compose myself enough to go over and take his order.

As I got close, his eyes drew me in. They were hungry looking, almost primal. A unique mix of green and brown I never imagined could exist. The iris's seemed to almost dance with the light reflected in them, revealing golden tones. I could never be done with looking at that man.

The overhead lights suddenly flicked off, bringing me back into the present and the now darkened, empty room. I looked down at my feet, barely distinguishable in the dim light and wiggled my toes in the socks, thankful that somebody had thought, however offhandedly, to provide them. A small piece of comfort, something familiar. Something I could recognize from my life before.

No matter how much I wanted to believe it was true, I was deluding myself. Facing an unknown future held captive in this place, the only comforting thoughts I could hold onto were those of my shitty bed and the beautiful man I'd never see again.

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