A/N: Welcome back! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The holiday season always throws me through a loop, hence the time between chapters. In other news, I got virtually no notifications of alerts or favourites, and only a few reviews (thank you to those people), so I am going into this second chapter a bit blindly. I was considering ditching the story altogether, but I concluded that, while I do write for the reader, I also write for myself. So, I will carry on, even if no one reads it!
If you are reading it, please enjoy…
P.S. A detail was missed in the first chapter. It has been rectified, but to save you going back through the chapter, I'll tell you what is different. I forgot to add that the UNSUB turns Emily's car off. He does this and then tosses the keys onto the floor of the backseat.
P.P.S. Sorry this took so long – life and work have been so full on and I've been pretty overwhelmed. This week marks a big lot of change, including wisdom teeth extraction, moving home then to college, starting university and so on, so forth. I'm struggling a lot with mood fluctuations so one of two things could happen. Sometimes, when my mood dips, I get super focused on a specific activity (e.g. cross stitch or writing), and other times I have absolutely no interest in engaging with anything. I hope what happens in the next few weeks is the former, but it may not be. Please bare with me because I really am committed to this story (I even have ideas brewing for a sequel).
TRIGGER WARNINGS: confined spaces, forced restraint, forced blindfolding, physical violence, adult language
Friday. 0724.
The whining hinges of the car boot are the eventual trigger that pulls Emily back to consciousness. Before the boot was opened, the air that had surrounded her had been stale, and suffocatingly thick; however, she is soon convinced that it was the more desirable option, as the crisp, icy wind swirls around her. She can already feel her chest tightening in response, a chesty cough escaping her barely parted lips. Her breathing is still heavy, but that is more as a response to pain than her previous exertion. It is still trapped within her skull. However, it has morphed from a sharp, agonising sensation to a more generalised ache that seemed to encompass her whole body. Had she stayed still, it is likely that the pain would not have changed so drastically, but the second her body is forced by a strong, rough hand into a semi-sitting position, a deeply-rooted throbbing begins to overwhelm her. The hand is clamped tightly around her left bicep, and is pulling her forward until she is leaning awkwardly out of her temporary holding place. When she fails to make any move to exit the cramped confines of the car boot, another hand takes a violent hold of her jacket collar, dragging her to the dirt beneath them.
Somehow, Emily manages to sling her legs over the lip of the boot in time to stop herself from falling face-first into the dirt. However, this is not much consolation, because the second she puts weight on her legs, they buckle. Whether it was because of the fight, or because she had been curled up in a tiny space, or just from sheer exhaustion, is unclear. Either way, when her knees heavily hit the ground, the pain in her head only intensifies. Only now, she becomes aware of new areas of discomfort. The jarring landing reveals strain in her neck and back, as well as across her ribcage, although that is likely to have been there already.
Having spent nearly a week laid up coughing and spluttering, Emily was already aching when she left her apartment that morning. Now, after being brutally overpowered, uncomfortably positioned and jostled on a hard surface, trapped in a confined space, and transitioned rapidly from warm environments to cold ones, it's no wonder that her already strained muscles have started to revolt.
With bright specks of light floating in front of her eyes, Emily tries to peer through the shroud over her head. She hears the boot of the car slam shut, and then, with a sharp tug on her collar, the man begins to drag her toward a destination unknown. The ground is uneven and littered with sharp pieces of debris, which she can feel scratching painfully against her legs and lower back.
Intent on attempting to stand and move of her own volition, Emily kicks her legs out, trying to allow her boots to get a good grip on the earth beneath her. She can hear her the seams of her pants start to rip, but unfortunately, despite her best efforts, her attempt to regain her footing fails miserably. She notices the hand around her arm tightening, surely tight enough to leave a mark, and hears a growl escape the man's mouth, only serving to spur her on more. She has to get up. There is no way she can get out of this if she can't even stand.
With one final effort, Emily plants both feet firmly on the ground, squeezing her thighs together as tightly as she can, while pushing her hips into the air. But the man's forward motion doesn't facilitate this move, and Emily very quickly ends up flipping so that the front of her body is facing downwards, which causes her companion to lose his hold on her clothing. With an unceremonious "thump", Emily falls face-first in the dirt. Her inability to break her fall sends a small rush of air out of her mouth. Instinctively, Emily gasps, immediately beginning to cough as dust fills her mouth and nasal canals. She gags, twists her head to the side, and continues to cough. With the sudden movement, the bag that still hangs over her head shifts, lifting to just above the bridge of her nose, allowing her to catch a brief glimpse of her surrounds. Drawing in a ragged, dust-free breath, Emily opens her eyes and takes in the early morning colours of the sky, the clouds of dust being whipped up by the wind, and the piles of rubble that sit close to the stack of construction palates close to where she lays. While her vision may have been clouded, and her mind lethargic, she is aware enough to notice how far away the lights in the distance float, and the decided lack of any of human activity. With this moment of stillness, Emily becomes aware that the only sound she could identify was her own breathing.
As if answering her call for human contact, the man above her jerks the bag back over her face, and lets out an exasperated snarl.
'For fuck's sake! Get up, bitch!'
In a manner almost as violent as the rage that laced his words, Emily's arm is once again taken in a vice-like grip. This time she is heaved into a more upright position, and once again finds herself being forced to move. From the first tenuous step, she is stumbling, tripping over her feet and the uneven terrain below her. With her left side being held close to the man, and completely unaided on her right, it is almost impossible not to trip with nearly every step. There is never a moment to regain balance though, as the man forges on, despite having to drag Emily's almost dead weight. Even though she hates having to admit it, Emily finds herself completely reliant on the man leading her to guide her.
When they suddenly halt, Emily fleetingly wonders if this might be her chance to try to escape, but no sooner than the thought passes through her head, her attacker speaks again.
'Step up. Keep going until I say stop.'
Six steps later, Emily's breath is shallow and rapid, and sweat has started beading on her forehead. Barely able to stand due to exhaustion and dizziness, she is given no time to recover, immediately being dragged through a narrow doorway, and made to begin ascending another flight of steps. The space she is now moving through is considerably cooler, and feels very confined. She considers for a moment that she is probably ascending an internal fire escape, the sheer number of stairs, and the shape of the stairwell confirming this theory.
As her breathing gets more and more strained from exertion, the subtle hints of nausea that she has been experiencing become much more pronounced. The man next to her has noticed her abnormal breathing, and doesn't think too much of it when Emily starts to cough. However, when they reach the beginning of the fourth flight of stairs, and the nature of the coughing abruptly shifts to gagging, it quickly becomes apparent what the next course of events will be.
Emily falters, misjudging the height of the next step and subsequently stumbling, landing heavily on her right knee. As soon as she hits the ground she folds forward, stomach clenching tightly, forcing what little liquid was left from her breakfast onto the ground below her. The man above her immediately recoils, trying hard not to gag himself, utterly disgusted by what is happening before him. Emily takes in a gasping breath, chest crackling loudly. However, her momentary relief that the vomiting has stopped is quickly overrun by panic, as the wet cloth covering her face is drawn into her mouth with each breath. She begins to shake her head desperately, trying to shake the material off her head to enable her to breathe properly. Her struggling is put to an end when the man reaches out and rips the shroud off her head, pulling her off balance as he does so. She wobbles on her perch, overcompensating when trying to right herself, and toppling off the step she is seated on. She falls, tumbling down the few steps they had climbed, and hitting the far wall solidly. Once again, the air is taken from her body, and she is left spluttering on another cold, hard surface.
She manages to prop herself up slightly, however her relief at this feat is short lived. She gags for the second time, heaving her way through another vomiting episode. This time though, there is nothing to bring up. It seems that every ounce of air that she brings into her body is almost immediately taken away. Eventually though, her breathing returns to the dismal state it was in, and her body starts to find its equilibrium. She leans back, shoulders against the staircase wall behind her, head tipping back toward the ceiling, eyes closing, breathing in as much cool air as she can get. As her focus moves away from her cramping stomach, she once again feels the aches and pains that have accompanied her to this destination. She stills, willing them to stop throbbing; willing them to give her a few moments of relief.
The man cautiously steps toward the woman crumpled before him, unsure of what will happen when he attempts to lift her again. He watches as her eyes lazily open, unfocused but still tracking his slow movement toward her. He pauses, reaching back up the staircase grasping the hood before advancing upon Emily and once again covering her face. The overpowering stench of the damp vomit saturating the material is overwhelming, and Emily has to make a concerted effort not to be sick again, especially when she feels a familiar hand close around her arm, pulling her into a standing position. This time, the man keeps his distance, leading her to the base of the staircase before standing behind her and pushing her upwards.
With her hands still bound behind her, Emily struggles to keep her balance, but fortunately the remainder of the climb is short, the man once again taking hold of her arm and guiding her out of the staircase. Emily blindly stumbles forward, body jerking in all directions as she tries to stay upright. The man walks quickly now, and turns, pulling her sharply to the right. Emily collides with the doorframe with her left shoulder, throwing her remaining balance off. She stumbles as her body continues to move forward, and trips, landing first on her knees, and then on her right side.
Frustrated by her inability to move where he wanted her to go, when he wanted her to go there, the man forgoes allowing her the ability to move on her own, instead taking hold of her shirt and jacket collars once more. Emily is violently dragged further inside the room. However, as quickly as the movement began, it stops. Emily is abandoned in mid air, and left to connect with the cold, concrete ground beneath her. Footsteps grow softer before they become inaudible, and Emily take a moment to breathe.
Finally alone, tears begin to fall from her eyes, steadily making tracks through the dirt and grime that already cover her face and neck. This is all too much. It's a nightmare that she can't wake up from, and one that she desperately wants to escape. She aches, she's tired, and most of all, she's scared.