Little Angel

Chapter:46

Vivian Flammery.
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A sharp throbbing in my head forced my eyes open. Darkness. That is what I saw as soon as I opened my eyes. I groaned, the sound echoing in the claustrophobic space.

The world came back to me in waves of nausea and throbbing pain. I blinked, trying to adjust to the oppressive darkness, and saw nothing but blurry shadows. My head throbbed with each beat of my heart, a constant, agonizing reminder of whatever had happened.

I turn on my back with a groan. The cold concrete floor pressed against my back as I struggled to sit up, the world swaying around me. My heart hammered against my ribs, like a wild bird trapped in a cage.

"Where...?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and dry. My hand flew to my head, pressing against the throbbing pain. I groan as my finger touches the scalp of the back of my head, and when I pull away and look at it, it is covered in blood.

Even in the dark, I could see the blood that covered my hand.

My fingers fumbled for my phone in my coat pocket, but it was gone. Gone, along with my purse, my wallet, my created card, everything. The room was bare, cold, and echoing with my fear.

Panic started to rise in my chest, a cold, tight knot. I was alone, trapped in the suffocating darkness, bleeding.

It took several minutes for me to adjust to the near-absolute blackness, the faintest sliver of moonlight filtering in through a crack in the boarded-up window, revealing the stark, unforgiving room. The air was stale, thick with a metallic tang that clung to my throat. There was a small cot in the corner tucked against a damp, moldy wall, and a rusty bucket in the opposite corner. It was a cage, a metal tomb, and I was trapped inside.

The icy air bit at my skin, the concrete walls of the room radiating a chilling coldness that seeped into my bones even through the thick layer of my clothes. A low hum, a constant thrumming, filled the small space, like a heartbeat, but a mechanical one, cold and unfeeling. I had been unconscious for who knows how long, a hazy blur of pain and darkness. My head throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed with each breath.

The icy air of the room pierced my lungs, a stark contrast to the sterile warmth of the hospital. My head throbbed in rhythm with the pounding of my heart. I wrapped the muffler I was wearing tightly around my neck.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, frantic bird trapped inside my chest. Where were I? How did I get here?

Suddenly, a wave of memories crashed over me. Two men attacking me in the hospital allay and then the doctor, his cold, hard eyes watching me mockingly and in his arms. My heart pounded in my chest; I almost forgot how to breathe a frantic drum in my ears. I was not the only one who was there.

Fuck!! Daisy, my angel. I look around frantically searching for my girl, but there is no one in this room except me.

A scream rose in my throat, but I choked it back. I couldn't afford to lose my composure. I had to think; I had to find a way out.

The door, the only opening, was locked. But there had to be a way. I paced the narrow confines, the echo of my footsteps the only sound in the deafening silence. My eyes scanned the room, searching for a way out, for a hint of hope.

There, in the corner, a tiny sliver of light escaped from the bottom of the door. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but enough to give me a glimmer of hope.

I moved toward it. My hand ran along the wall, feeling for anything, anything that could help me. The walls were cold, the chill sinking into my skin. It was December in New York, and the room was like an icebox.