Chapter 2

Thank you for your kind reviews. Poor Castle, he's just getting started on this journey.

The first thing Castle sensed was the smell of dirt, a strong pungent smell. Opening his eyes, there was a faint light at his feet, a greenish-neon glow. Shifting, he felt objects against his side, hard objects. When he went to rise up, he could feel pain from the back of his neck. Reaching to it, he felt a couple of small scabs. He realized his attacker used a stun gun on him.

At least he didn't kill me, Castle thought. "Yet." The word echoed off the walls and forced Castle to give a really good look around.

He was inside a cave. There was no question. The walls were dark and rocky and the ground was hard and rocky as well. As the author turned, the objects besides him hit, reminding him they were there. He had a flashlight, a brand new bottle of water, a protein bar, a folded piece of paper and a small dirt pick. The present light was coming from a glowstick at his feet.

Reaching down and using it to get a closer look at what he had, he wondered about his own things. Reaching to his pockets, he pulled out his wallet and his own water bottle, but his phone was missing. "Damn, I just replaced that, too."

He heard his words echo and he shuddered. Where was he?

Putting everything down, he grabbed the paper, he saw one page was a letter to him.

Dear Mr. Castle,

Some weeks ago you and I spoke at a writer's conference held at the Hilton here in Washington. You were there signing autographs and giving advice. Most people wanted to meet you and talk to you, and I wanted to talk to you about my own project.

I told you I had the perfect idea. A book dedicated to the perfect killing. It was very difficult to get your interest and from what little you let me tell you, you didn't think it was a good idea. I did as you asked and sent my masterpiece to you via Black Pawn, but never heard back from you.

So I decided to prove you wrong, Mr. Castle, but in an extreme way. You're living my murder now. Let's see if you can survive. I'm confident that you will not be found, but I will be sure to let them try. Also, you told me that in a good story the victim tries to save himself. So you have that chance too, but you're locked into this cave as it was sealed off. I even gave you some tools.

Good luck, Mr. Castle. My sadness in this is people won't know how easily I got to you.

Signed,

A better writer

"Arrogant bastard," Castle said, wishing he could say it to the man's face. He remembered that night mentioned in the letter. When they first got to Washington, Castle had agreed to do a promotional event for Black Pawn at the local Hilton. It actually was mostly fun, though Castle wished Kate could have made it. The only unpleasant moment came at the very end when a very strange man cornered him.

"Mr. Castle!"

The event was almost over and Castle was very tired. But he turned to the sound of the latest fan and was face to face with a balding man, about a foot shorter than him. He was stocky, but stood with a determination. Castle couldn't help but notice this man's appearance. He was wearing a faded shirt with flower prints all over it, very reminiscent of the 1970s. And his pants were so shiny Castle wasn't sure what kind of material they were made of.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

"Mr. Castle, I brought you a manuscript. I wondered if you would want to read it and give me some advice."

That was the last thing Castle wanted to do. "I'm sorry sir, I won't have time tonight…"

He stepped closer to Castle, forcing him to take a step back. "Oh, I wouldn't expect you to soak it up tonight. You could study it and tell me next week what you think!"

Castle had been asked by would-be authors before to read their work, and over the years he had a formulated answer to give them, but something about this man told Castle he wouldn't take such a generic answer. "I'm sorry, I wish I could, but you see my fiancée and I are moving here to the city and between that and the publicity book tour coming up, I just won't be able to give it time. If you would like to send it in to my publisher, I can get to it later…"

"I've waited hours tonight, Mr. Castle. Is that all you can do for me?"

Castle held the man's stare. There was something behind those eyes that Castle didn't like. Sighing, he decided to just see if he could appease him. "Well, can you give me a synopsis? What is it about?"

Disappointment crossed the man's face, but in a couple of moments it was gone. Glancing down at his precious work, he nodded. "It's about the perfect murder."

Castle struggled to remember the rest of the man's conversation but he had some wine that night and with the trauma of his current situation, he was having trouble remembering.

"Damn," Castle thought. He stood up, the area he was in was about 10 x 12 feet. The obvious entrance of the cave was covered in wooden boards. It looks like he had put together two pallets and used them to create a wall to block him in. Placing his hand on them, he saw the wood was rather old. Grabbing the pick, he began using it to hammer at the boards.

A few hits and one board cracked. Castle could see white behind it. Using his fingers he reached through the cracks to feel what the material was. It was white and had a pungent smell. Taking the pick, he squeezed the point behind the side of a board and yanked. Repeating the process a few times, he was able to pull out a good portion of one of the boards. He touched the material; it was rather soft. He chipped at it but after about an hour he had only gotten a couple of feet in if that. Another problem was now that he could stick his head in, he would start to have problems breathing and have to back out. He realized this was most likely that fast expanding foam they used for insulation.

Feeling light headed, Castle sat down. While he had worked he thought the manual labor of it was just taxing him but now he realized he was having trouble breathing. Castle thought back to research he did a long time ago, he had wondered if using the material would work to hide a body. He remembered the material would hold heat and cold in as well as make it air tight.

Horrified, Castle remembered the rest of the conversation:

"I need to tell you that there is no such thing as the perfect murder." He was gesturing for them to walk. Castle needed to head over to the rep from Black Pawn and hoped he then could ditch the man by her.

"That isn't true! Murderers get away with killing victims all the time!"

Castle shook his head. "That's true, but most of those unsolved cases are random with no connection to the victim and his or her murderer. If you are planning on writing it like that, it's not going to make a compelling-"

"My story will be good! Mr. Castle. It's going to be from the victim's point of view."

Castle stopped. The man's behavior was creepy enough, but hearing him talk made Castle wish he could just run away. It was almost like … but Castle was sure it was just his imagination. "Then I guess it's a short story?"

"No, the murder will take a long time to happen."

"How?"

Smiling his creepy smile, he explained. "The killer will kidnap the victim and place him in a room he can't escape."

"If he can't escape, why would you write about that?"

His smile got even bigger. "Because that will be the fun part."

"No, no, no," Castle repeated. He started circling around the room, trying to think. Even if the foam only went to the top of the ceiling of the cave which was only eight feet high, it was possible he only had a limited amount of air supply in the cave. Also, the top of the roof may collapse and he'd most certainly suffocate.

Stopping he looked around the room for any kind of alternative escape route. He saw nothing. Probably why this area was picked. It was the end of the cave. Feeling his stomach grumble, Castle knelt down wondering what time it was. How long had he been gone?

Trying to keep himself from panicking Castle went back over the things he had, doing another inventory. At least it gave him something to do. Picking up the pencil, he wondered if the creepy man left him this to write final notes to his loved ones. The idea made him physically sick and he looked up to the ceiling to try to blink away the tears. That's when he noticed it.

A dark orb in the center of the room. From the other angles of the room and in the green glow it looked very much like one of the rocks sticking out of the ceiling. Standing up, he reached up and touched it. It was glass.

Since the ceiling was fairly low, it was easy for Castle to take his hands and rub away the dirt around the half sphere. It didn't take long for him to pull it out, revealing a camera.

"I'm afraid I have to go now… Mr …" Castle wanted to get away as far as he could.

"Mr. Brown. You can call me Mr. Brown." Castle nodded and tried to walk away but the man followed. "So you just don't like this idea?"

Castle stopped, wondering if he should just tell the truth. "It's not like it hasn't been done before, Mr. Brown, but in fiction the narrative is either first person or third person."

"It will be third person."

Castle nodded. "But from the point of view from the victim? What happens when the victim dies?"

"Ahh, that's the brilliant part. That's when we find out the killer has been watching the whole time." He looked so pleased with himself.

Castle was relieved when Katelyn, the Black Pawn representative, approached them. "Mr. Castle, your car is outside waiting to take you home. I'm sorry to cut this short."

Mr. Brown didn't even look at Katelyn. Ignoring her words completely, he said, "If you're done here, why don't you and I get a cup of coffee and I can talk to you more about my manuscript. I am positive I can convince you this idea has merit."

"Uh-huh," Castle said. He knew he wasn't going anywhere with this guy. "Mr. Brown, it was a pleasure to listen to your ideas but I really must be going. Like I said, if you would send that manuscript to me at Black Pawn, let them know that I told you to send it to them and they will make sure I get it." Castle wondered if maybe he should send it on to the police, this guy was taking disturbing to a new level.

At Castle's last sentence, anger flashed through his face but it disappeared. "Okay, Mr. Castle, if you insist. We'll be in touch. I will expect to hear from you."

Before walking away, Castle stopped and turned back to the man. "I do have some advice for you now, if you would like to hear it."

"Oh yes, please!" He smiled at whatever Castle had to say.

"Don't underestimate your victim. You would be surprised at a person's ingenuity for trying to save themselves. I myself have managed to dodge many situations with a mixture of luck and inventiveness."

When the man didn't answer Castle walked quickly away, making sure Katelyn came with him. He wanted to get her in a cab before he left, just to make sure she didn't get stuck talking to the unsettling Mr. Brown.

Anger rushed through Castle. So he was watching him. Taking his right hand, he grabbed at the camera, and tried to pull it out. Surprising he found it was not wireless. As he started to yank, the cord kept holding it back. Eventually he started pulling harder and with a final tug, he ripped the camera out of its socket and the cord came with it, cutting a thin line 5 feet heading away from the blocked entrance.

Still angry, Castle wrapped the camera in his hand and began yanking harder on the wire. It felt good to destroy something and at least cut off Brown's voyeuristic plans. When the wire made it to the far wall, Castle gave one good yank and down came a big chunk of the wall. Shocked, Castle ran over to it.

Dirt was settling and he coughed a bit as he breathed some of it in. He felt cool air hit him and he realized there was fresh air in that direction. Grabbing the flashlight, he beamed a light into the darkness and was glad it didn't bounce back. Picking up one of the chunks of dirt that had fallen, he tossed it through the hole. Hearing it land, he realized it must be another room.

Taking a few minutes to decide what to do, he grabbed the glowstick and gently dropped it on the other side. It didn't go far, light was emitting enough. Taking the pick, he began working at the hole, making it larger so he could get through it.

Before he climbed in, he grabbed the water and food, stuffing them in his pocket. Jumping up he squeezed himself through the self-made hole, happy to know he could fit into it. "Need to lose weight, MY ASS!" he yelled. He realized his pun and wished someone else was around to hear it.

"Maybe I'll write in for Rook to make a similar comment." He said as he got through the hole. I'm going to get out of here.

In the next room, it was smaller, about half the size. Using the glow stick, his spirits dipped but he saw another hole at the far end. Walking over to it, he looked through it and could tell it was something he would have to crawl through.

"At least this is bigger," he said. Leaning against it, he wondered if this was really a good idea. Kate and the police would have better chance finding the trail that Brown left behind rather than he would of finding his own way out.

But Brown could have booby trapped that room.

Castle sat down, and took out his first water bottle. His pockets were filled to the rim and he decided while he had to conserve water he would finish up the last of this, save the new bottle for later. As he drank he kept staring at the tunnel leading to the unknown. His gut told him he needed to do this, but what if was wrong?

I myself have managed to dodge many situations with a mixture of luck and inventiveness.

Remembering his own words to Brown, Castle realized he was going to take a chance and go for it. He couldn't just sit there and wait.

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