Unfortunate Predicament ||Aim to Engage Flashfic Winner||

Unfortunate Predicament

I wake up disorientated, with my head pounding. Touching the sensitive spot on my temple causes me to hiss from the sharp pain. My hands are extended and handcuffed to a water pipe, but there's a small range of motion to move them. A chill pulses through me from the cool moisture in the room, causing my muscles to ache from the cold cement floor with my back against a damp cinderblock wall.

Glancing around the room that is now my prison, I realize I'm in a basement. At least it looks and feels like a basement. Small windows near the top of the cinderblock wall shed light into the dingy room, revealing the space surrounding me.

It's empty except for a few items; someone must have moved out and didn't bother to take what they no longer wanted.

A metal chair is randomly sitting several feet from me. A large wooden shelf unit stands at the far end of the room with some old rusted paint cans sitting there as if they've already fulfilled their purpose.

You can see where a washer and dryer once sat next to the water heater because the square area has less dust and dirt than the rest of the floor. Under the wooden stairs are an array of buckets and discarded wood that looks like they were leftover from a project.

Slowly, everything comes back to me. While traveling cross country to meet my finacé, Everett, my Ford Escort got a flat tire. A tow truck just happened to be driving by, and fortunately, it pulled in front of my vehicle. A husky blonde-haired man exited the truck and approached me. I got out of my car to speak to him and saw too late that he had a gun. After that, nothing.

The door above me squeaked open, causing me to gasp and close my eyes as I listened to the heavy footsteps descending the stairs.

"Please find me, Everett," I whisper in despair.

"Well, look who's awake," my captor says in a disgustingly cheery voice.

"Where am I?" The ache in my head and fear cause my voice to crack.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he growls in a much lower octave than his cheery voice. I'm not sure which is worse.

He sits on the metal chair just out of the reach of my feet. Wise man, I'd love to kick his smug face.

Words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Yes, Asshole. That's why I asked the question."

"How dumb do you think that I am?" he sneers. "I've been planning this since that first threatening note I gave your boy toy, Detective Everett Jones. I warned him I was coming after someone significant to him. You two are the ones who foolishly decided not to heed my warning."

The blue vein protruding from his wrinkled, flushed forehead gives away this man's resentment towards Everett.

I let out an exasperated sigh. "What are you going to do to me?"

He stands and starts pacing the floor, and I feel sick in my gut.

"Right now, I'm going to leave you here to rot," he rubs his forehead as if he has a headache.

It's not like someone smacked him in the head with a gun.

He goes underneath the stairs and brings a large bucket over to me.

"Don't make a mess. I have more important things to do than sit around here babysitting the likes of you."

He walks over to double-check my handcuffs, ensuring I'm secure. I cringe at his touch.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he grunts.

Once satisfied that I'm not going anywhere, he trots back up the stairs, shuts the door, and leaves me with my thoughts.

I'm so screwed. That guy doesn't intend to murder me but has no problem with me dying slowly from starvation.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I feel sure Everett has discovered I'm missing and is losing his mind, blaming himself because he promised to keep me safe. It was my fault; I knew this asshole was out to get me. I should have waited for Everett to come to me instead of insisting on driving alone to see him. But I couldn't wait another week for him to return from his detective conference.

My analytical mind is in overdrive as I try to figure out exactly how this guy managed to kidnap me. Then it hit me: the asshole must have tampered with my car's tire, causing it to go flat.

My hand instinctively goes to my injury as my head continues to throb. I swear that I can feel my heartbeat in my wound; it's an odd sensation. The pain is making it difficult to think.

Gingerly, I place my head on the cinderblock wall. The coolness of the damp wall gives me some relief.

It's essential to stay awake since I might have a concussion. However, exhaustion overtakes me; my eyes grow too heavy and close against my will.

"Cali, are you okay, Babe?"

"Everett? Where are you? I can't see you. Please find me. I need you more than anything or anyone in my entire life." 

"Shhh, Babe. I'm right here. No matter how far apart we are, I'll always be here for you."

"I'm so sorry, Everett. I should've waited for you. I failed to keep my promise to you by not being careful and letting this happen. Oh, Everett, can you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive. Stay strong, Cali. I'm coming for you."

I'm startled awake; nothing but darkness surrounds me. It was a dream, a damn dream. It still gave me hope. Everett is coming for me. My only job is to stay alive.