Sleepless Night

Your mind comes rushing back in an instant, leaving your senses reeling. Your eyes flutter for a moment then burst open, a gasp escapes your lips as you weakly try to sputter out a call for help. Your body instinctively goes to sit upright. Your left shoulder, flaring with intense pain from the sudden movement, is the only immediate result of all this and you flinch in anguish. You try to lift your right hand to alleviate the throbbing in your arm, only to find that it is bound to your left with thick straps of leather that are clasped together with iron rings, forming cuffs that fit snugly around your wrists. A small hole is etched into the side. A keyhole. Taking a moment to visually inspect your injuries, you see that your right hand has been wrapped with a small cloth and your shoulder has been bandaged with several layers of rough fabric. Though your treatment is somewhat shoddy it seems to do the trick, preventing any further bleeding. You sit in silence for a few moments to allow the aching in your shoulder time to recede.

Where am I?

Looking around, this is the first thought which presents itself to you. The room is windowless and dark. The floor is dirt and the walls, clay or mud. There is a single trapdoor built into the ceiling, several feet above where you rest. It is made from thick planks of sturdy looking wood. The only light that illuminates the room seeps through several slats in the trapdoor, providing some visibility but leaving the rest of the room hidden in darkness. You sit upon the only furniture evident to you in the room, a small bed with tattered, patch-ridden sheets and a lumpy looking pillow that feels like a sack filled with rocks. You think back on how you got into this predicament.

I remember… I was looking for the other passengers, for Anna... and I came across some hunters…

You recall the incident that transpired.

…and… and they attacked me?!

You think for another moment.

… At the very least… They probably aren’t going to kill me… that’s evident enough by their use of sedatives and my current imprisonment.

You pause.

Well… That’s good and all… But what exactly are they planning to do with me?!

A cold shiver runs through your body, spurred on by the wetness of your clothes, still soaked from swimming, and the thought of their intentions.

Horrified by the prospects, you struggle with your bindings, trying to tear them loose with your teeth, but to no avail.

You then spend several minutes attempting to make contact with the trapdoor in the ceiling by standing on the bed, but it sits several inches just beyond your reach. You try jumping to gain the needed height, but this only causes excruciating pain in your shoulder each time you land. Standing still on the bed you try looking through the slats. You can tell that it leads to the outside, the sky is clear and blue, but there’s nothing else of note.

You carefully seat yourself and think. Trying to conceive a way to escape.

With no luck on that front and with nothing else to do, you decide to take the next couple of minutes to explore the room’s darker recesses, but sadly find nothing of importance. The walls are completely barren and cool to the touch. Having been tucked away in the ground, the temperature of the cell is much lower than it was outside. The floor is the same, save for a single corner where at some point, another prisoner must have relieved themselves. Feeling mildly sickened by the lack of sanitation, you decide to return to your cot. However, before you make it all the way back you see that there is a small bundle tucked under the bed, just visible with the dim light. Pulling it out and setting it down, you unwrap it. Fumbling because of your cuffed hands and injuries, you spill the contents out beside you. Kept within are several items of interest. Three of them immediately grab your attention. A glass canteen filled with water, several pieces of dried meat, and a chunk of bread. Ignoring everything else you wolf down the pieces of meat hungrily, while intermittently gulping down mouthfuls of water. You try to bite the bread, but it’s as solid as a brick. You use some of the water that you haven’t drank yet to soften it, than consume the loaf as well. Leaning back with satisfaction your attention drifts toward the remaining items. A piece of threadbare brown cloth and a pair of worn sandals.

...What? ...

You: “...Do they expect me to wear THIS?!”

You toss the clothing across the room causing them to scatter, then sit in silence for several more minutes. Your contentment from the meal spoiled.

As you sit you look down at your own attire.

Your dress shirt is frayed from the relentless pull of branches during your trek through the forest. A large hole gapes in the upper-sleeve of your shirt, thanks to the arrow’s entry and removal. Your slacks are in even worse condition, ragged and torn in multiple places. You notice that one of your shoes is missing, lost at some point along the way. Yet you’re more than willing to suffer all of this.

The damp wetness of your clothes however, is an entirely different matter.

A couple moments pass by in utter silence.

Then you shiver from the cold again, catching yourself before you sneeze.

…Fuck…

You grudgingly go pick up the loincloth and sandals.

The cuffs and your injuries make stripping a difficult process, but finally you rid yourself of your wet clothing, laying them out on the floor to dry. Then, standing only in your briefs, you take the bedsheet and dry yourself as best you can, wiping with care as you get close to your wounded shoulder. As you do this, you can’t help but look yourself up and down. Your body is somewhat thin and fairly pale. Slim enough to cut through water with ease but not great for much else. Your mind flashes suddenly to the three dark skinned women from earlier. While you could slip through the waves unnoticed, they would more than likely part the waters with absolute swimming prowess. Defeating you in every way imaginable...

No… No. I’ve spent so many years swimming. I even made varsity in college! ... I… I could easily swim circles around anyone.

The slice in your shoulder left by the arrow burns faintly.

...Maybe not right now though...

Putting those thoughts out of your mind, you finish toweling yourself off and set the bedsheet, now damp with moisture, to dry alongside your tattered clothes.

I guess I might as well let these dry off too…

You think to yourself as you slip off your boxers then cover yourself with the loincloth. Instead of walking around barefoot, you choose to put on the sandals.

…What the hell am I wearing?

You can’t help but feel like a complete idiot as you finish securing the straps on both sandals, then stand to examine yourself.

Well, it’s just until my clothes dry off.

You try to take that thought as a small comfort, though you know it’s meaningless.

The light filtering through the slats in the trapdoor above begins to fate. Looking through the little gaps, you can see the sky becoming dark.

...Night… I should get some sleep.

Trying to make yourself comfortable, you curl up, partially in the fetal position and having nothing to cover yourself with. You try closing your eyes, resenting the long and cold night ahead of you. You make an effort to go to sleep for several hours, but your pillow is a continual disturbance. Any sleep that you do manage to get in is plagued with nightmares fraught with a foreboding sense of doom.

Suddenly the sharp high-pitched cry of a woman in distress pierces the night air. Breaking into a cold sweat, your body jolts from the abrupt noise.

You: “Anna?!”

You shout in semi-wakefulness.

But there is no response.

...She isn't here?

You turn to your side, blinking several times.

...

…Of course she isn’t…

…Damn dream…

As the night progresses, your only respite is shallow restless sleep. Your consciousness continually floats in and out. Your dreams are filled with wails of sorrow and animalistic cries of pain, but they do not last for long. Gradually these lamentations begin to shift, mixing with sighs of contentment, until only the pleasured moans of satisfied women remain. They bleed into your weary mind, showing you scenes horrifying beyond all measure but that part from you before morn. As dawn approaches, you are left with only a dreadful splinter of fear burrowed deep within the depths of your heart, a continuous prick that never lets up.

Finally, the morning Sun begins to gradually peek over the horizon, casting soft light that slowly emanates into your small cell.

*CLACK*

The loud clatter of the trapdoor above you being opened, rips you free from the single thread binding you to the land of slumber. The land of nightmares. Your eyes shoot open.

???: “Get out.”

A rope ladder unspools itself, coming to rest at the foot of your bed and a small silver key hits you square in the chest, tossed down from above. Light streams in through the open door.

You had been through so much over the course of the past twenty-four hours that seeing the light of day once again, after your cold and lonely night, filled you with a sense of hope, however faint. But this small hope was not meant to be. You would soon realize that this was not over.

This nightmare of yours was only just beginning.

The water was deep.

Deeper than any you had ever known.