Chapter Two: Threads
Darkness.
Eyes closed or open, it was all she saw.
Olivia had been trapped in the unlit cell for uncounted days. Light was only granted to her when the Secretary ripped up the blind and the blinding glare found her eyes, scarring them with little dots of white.
It had been three days since he'd come to check on her, or was it five? The days were starting to slip.
She cried, but who wouldn't?
Sound escaped her; only the occasional shuffle of her own shoes on the floor or the click of her fingernails against the cold bunk was heard.
She screamed, but no one heard.
She wondered what happened to the others, did they make it home? Were they safe? These were questions locked away in a chained box of unknowing, one she had no access to there.
A muffled clunking sound made her open her eyes, like metal gears gnawing into each other while the mechanism worked away.
With a swift movement, the blind opened and illuminated the room. Olivia squinted in the blaring light.
When she could see again, the Secretary stood there, completely stoic. He stood straight, face poised in utter superiority. Something in his eyes seemed almost smug, but the rest was terrifying adversity.
"Please let me go," she whispered.
He made no acknowledgement, just slammed the blind back down.
She closed her eyes again, content with the images she could conjure to cure some of the void, but even they faded eventually.
But after many had faded, she thought of one; an image that she could breathe in the scent of and remember the touch of.
In that consuming miasma of blackness, she thought of Peter.
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