The metallic taste of fear clung to Maya's tongue as she sat in the suffocating darkness, her breath shallow and uneven. Every nerve in her body was taut, alert to the faintest sound. The echo of her captors' voices bounced through the cold, damp air, their words muddled by the blindfold tightly secured over her eyes. Sweat mixed with the stench of mildew and concrete, filling her nostrils, making her stomach churn. The darkness around her was absolute, an endless void where time lost meaning, where every second stretched into an eternity of dread.
Her wrists throbbed from the coarse ropes that bound them, the fibers biting cruelly into her skin. The muscles in her arms ached from being forced behind her back, the position unnatural and excruciating. She shifted slightly, her body tender from the rough handling she'd endured during her capture. Each movement sent sharp jolts of pain through her bruised sides, yet it was not the physical agony that tormented her the most—it was the gnawing fear of what would come next.
She could hear them, just beyond the veil of her blindfold, pacing and murmuring in low voices. Their words were laced with malice, and every now and then, one of them would laugh—a sound that sent ice shooting through her veins. They were discussing her, plotting, waiting for orders. She caught a fragment about Kane, and the mention of his name made her heart race. They wanted him, and they would use her to get to him.
Maya clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The fear that gripped her like a vice was overwhelming, but she fought to stay calm. In her mind, she conjured Kane's image—his dark, intense eyes, the way his touch made her feel safe even in the most chaotic moments. He was out there, searching for her. She had to believe that. He wouldn't give up on her, not after everything they'd been through.
Suddenly, the rhythmic clatter of footsteps grew louder, and Maya tensed. The captors were returning. She heard the distinct sound of a door creaking open, and then the voices were clearer, sharper, cutting through the air like knives.
"What are we doing with her?" one of them growled, the impatience in his voice unmistakable.
"We wait," another answered coldly. "Orders from the top. She's tough, but she'll crack."
Maya swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. The weight of their words pressed down on her. They wanted to break her, to use her as bait. She had to hold on, had to outlast them. Kane was her only hope, and she couldn't afford to give up.
A sudden jolt of pain shot through her side as one of the captors jabbed her roughly. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, her teeth digging into the soft flesh. The hands searched her body, rough and invasive, patting her down for anything she might be hiding. Her skin crawled, but she stayed still, her breath shallow. They couldn't find anything—she had nothing that would lead them to Kane.
After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps retreated once more, leaving her in suffocating silence. For a moment, Maya simply breathed, trying to collect herself. She flexed her fingers against the ropes, wincing at the raw, burning sensation in her wrists. But in the darkness, a flicker of determination sparked within her.
She shifted her hands subtly, feeling for any weakness in the bindings. There—just the faintest rough edge on the rope. She rubbed her wrists against it, slowly, deliberately, praying that it would give. Time dragged on as she worked, every scrape a small victory. Her body was on fire with pain, but she pushed through it, focusing on Kane, on the life she could return to if she escaped.
Finally, with a soft snap, the rope began to fray. Her wrists were free. The sudden release made her gasp softly, her arms shaking from the effort. She fought to keep her movements quiet as she reached up to pull the blindfold from her eyes. The dim light stung her vision, but she blinked rapidly, adjusting to the gloom of the room.
It was an industrial space, grim and uninviting. The walls were bare concrete, stained with age, and the only illumination came from a single flickering bulb overhead. Her eyes darted to the far end of the room where a door stood, a thin sliver of hope. But beyond it, through the small window, she saw a guard standing watch, his face illuminated by the glow of a cigarette.
Her heart sank, but she wasn't defeated. Scanning the room, she spotted a metal pipe, half-hidden under a pile of discarded crates. Her hands were trembling as she crept toward it, the cold steel heavy in her grip. This was her chance. If she could take out the guard, she might have a shot at escape.
Her breath hitched as she approached the door. The guard was oblivious, too engrossed in his cigarette to notice her. With all the strength she could muster, Maya swung the pipe. The impact was sickening, a dull thud as the guard crumpled to the ground. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She dragged the unconscious man inside, hiding him behind the crates, then grabbed his key and unlocked the door. The cool night air rushed over her, a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat inside. She was free, but the night wasn't over. Maya ran, the cold biting at her skin, her mind consumed by one thought—Kane. She had to find him, had to make it out alive. For both of them.
YOU ARE READING
Unseen Threads
RomanceDarling, have you ever felt the weight of longing settle in your chest like a whisper of the past? In a city ablaze with neon lights-each flicker a heartbeat of desire-Kane Anderson, a haunted MMA fighter, wrestles with his demons. He's a storm, fie...