Credit: evansdoll on tumblr Warning: contains mention of gore, torture, and swearing. Also a recommended song while reading is skinny love by birdy :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Darkness...
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My name is (Y/N). Yes, (Y/N) March, the wife of the successful businessman James P. March, owner of the Cortez, a hotel in Los Angeles. I was abducted. I think I've been here for about seven days, but this isn't an exact projection. I might be here much longer or even less. I don't know, I've lost track of time down here. All I have left is the darkness and dripping wetness of this nightmare that I am at. My head hurts. I feel very cold. I'm here, trapped, inside this dark, filthy , tight, stifling hole ... I know I'm here because of James.
I have never done bad, evil things. I have always helped people, close or far, I have participated in charity events, I donate a lot of money to the poor, I finance works of art and academics from those who could not, I have always acted with fairness and ethics at work, and especially in the family. I don't deserve this... I'm stunned. I don't wanna credit someone to whom I have done good, this cruel, violent and inhuman act of putting an individual under these conditions in which I find myself at.
I believe that I've done something wrong, involuntarily.- I think it would be a horrible punishment, an unacceptable torture even for the worst criminal. And yet, here I am. In a hole about half a meter in diameter and ten deep. Walls of a black smelly land, as if it were sewage. Yeah, maybe that's right: given the depth of where I am and the poorly finished walls of the place.
My head seems to want to explode. Darkness obviously affects my visual perception of things, my reasoning, my ability to disagree...I have not eaten well for a long time. Before, they'd throw pieces of bread, some fruits already eaten or rotted... water? Only when it comes from some corner of this hole, and then I have to lean my tongue against the wall to suck the black cauldron that flows, with putrid taste and bitter as gall. But this is what is keeping me alive in these days (or hours?).
I don't remember how I ended up down here...
The last thing I remember, before waking up in this fucking chamber of terror, is to be crossing the street to get into the Cortez, and hearing someone calling me by my name. As I turned around, I felt someone gripping my arm and the blow made me faint. Thick ropes tie my wrists and ankles, and however great my efforts, the most I can do is getting hurt.
Impossible to escape from this trap. Brilliant and sadistic! I'm not gagged. So I scream! I scream for hours. Every now and then, I hear laughter, far away. Pure mockery of my meager efforts. I'm tired, hungry, weak, almost ragged. I can't take it anymore.
I'm going to faint right here... *
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