Trigger Warnings: Death, Kidnapping, Inability to move
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Read more works by C. C. Ward here!
Rachel was stressed. At least she was pretty sure that was what she was feeling. Or experiencing? Is stress truly a feeling if it can affect you physically? She tugged at the chain around her neck. Rachel was definitely stressed. Squinting into the darkness, she was pretty sure she was in some kind of locker room shower. How original, she thought. Alas everyone and their mom had properly seen that movie, so why not? She was alone in here, right? Looking around, it sure seemed like it. Besides her own breathing and heartbeat, Rachel could only hear the drip, drip, dripping of a faucet somewhere out of her view.
Rachel tugged on the collar again. Feeling blindly around its shape for a spot of weakness. Her fingers scraped across the raw metal, ruining her nails in the process. There was a seam by her neck. Locked to the chain in the wall by a padlock. At least that’s how it felt. Rachel could feel cold sweat breaking out. She felt clammy, cold. Looking around frantically, trying to see anything of use.
Movement.
Movement?
Rachel paused. Had she seen something? She clasped a hand over her mouth, to stop the sound of her breathing. Unnaturally loud in the silence. Slowly she turned her head.
Nothing. Just the dark?
Rachel could feel it in her stomach. Feel the icy cold fingers clawing their way up her chest to her throat. She wanted to scream. Cold tendrils of terror clamped around her throat. How long had she been here? She wasn’t hungry. When had she last eaten? Shouldn’t she be hungry? The ice in her stomach did a flip at the thought of food. So no she wasn’t hungry. The drip, drip, dripping from somewhere seemed to grow louder?
She tried the chain again. No give. The chain in the wall? No give. Rachel pulled violently at the chain. The sound of it rustling and tightening against the force, impossibly loud in the oppressive silence.
She stood up.
She stood up?
She stood up!
She couldn’t get up! She could feel her legs. Could wiggle her toes, could stretch them. But they would not stand up. Cold, hot fire went up her spine. She could feel it prickling in the corners of her eyes. Somehow everything seemed louder. Her head vibrating with every goddamn, drip, drip, drip, from the fucking faucet! Was this what it felt like going insane?
Rachel slid down to the floor. From here the ceiling came into view. She wished it hadn’t. Suddenly there was movement everywhere. The darkness, a swirling of thousands of shadows. Forming nothing. As she looked she could feel herself slipping. Slipping, into sleep? When had she last…? The dark swiveling mass, descended upon her. There was no mass, no teeth. Yet she felt its presence. Its all-encompassing existence. Its teeth. Everywhere. In her eyes. Her nose. Her mouth. She couldn’t feel where she ended and it began. Biting, gnawing, ripping her flesh. She closed her eyes and let go. Felt it fully consumed her. Everything disappeared.
Sleep.
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