Collide Invisible Lips (KELLIC)

Chapter 1

Kellin's POV

Everything was so dark.

My eyes were open, but they might as well have been stitched shut. The room around me was pitch black, and I couldn't see my hand two inches in front of my face. I felt my heart banging against my ribcage, threatening to shatter the bones that encased it. Had I been kidnapped? Where was I? How long had I been asleep? I fumbled around to explore where I sat. The floor was concrete, cold and mostly smooth. I couldn't feel any walls immediately near me, and I abandoned the idea of finding a light switch. I took a deep breath, the musty air of whatever prison I was in filling my lungs like a foul-smelling liquid.

I took another breath and tried to compose myself. I wasn't shackled in any way. I didn't feel injured, not even a headache from a hangover of some sort. From what I could tell, I might be able to just get up and walk out.

I opted to crawl instead of walk, feeling carefully along the floor as I moved in a random direction. I strained to hear footsteps near or above me, any voices, anything that might indicate a way out.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath, a shard of something sharp embedding itself in my hand. I pulled it out and suddenly, the pain was gone. I ran my fingertips over my hand; no warm liquid or rough skin to signify blood or a cut. I frowned slightly but continued on my agonizingly tedious journey.

"You need to go a bit to the left." A masculine voice in front of me caused me to let out a yelp of surprise.

"Who's there?" I shouted, straining my eyes to see the face behind the darkness. The same voice chuckled, this time farther away and to the left of me.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. I hesitated, weighing my options, and I realized that there weren't many. Slowly, I began to crawl towards the disembodied voice.

"That's it. Just a little farther now," he encouraged. After what felt like years but was probably hardly a minute or two, my forearms bumped against a jagged edge of what felt and smelled like rotting wood. Stairs. I carefully stood up and gingerly began picking my way up the staircase.

At the top of the staircase, I could see the faintest sliver of light under what appeared to be door. The man behind the voice I'd heard was nowhere to be seen, but I hadn't heard the door open or close. I ran my hands over the splintering wood of the door until my fingertips ran across the doorknob. I held my breath, praying that it wouldn't be locked.

The door swung open easily.

I blinked in the harsh bright light of the daytime, squinting against the burning sensation. When my eyes adjusted, I was left with no better idea of where I was. I was in a house, but it wasn't any place I recognized. Even in the small hallway with the door to what I assumed was the basement, there was a long table with crystal vases and other knickknacks. I cautiously walked down the hallway, acutely aware of how loud the creaking floors sounded under my sneakers. The ceilings were already fairly high, but they were even more so when the hallway opened into an elegant foyer. A crystal chandelier hung high overhead, not illuminated but catching the natural sunlight easily. Below my feet was a patterned rug, probably hand woven. A spiral staircase led to the upstairs, but I elected to explore the rest of the floor first.

The kitchen was spectacular, everything glistening chrome and polished marble. There were dishes in the cabinets suggesting that the house was inhabited, but it otherwise seemed too meticulously clean to belong to anyone besides a realtor. There was a glistening, paned window above the sink looking out on a neatly trimmed front lawn. I turned back to the foyer to explore the room at the other side. I peered through the slightly ajar door and was shocked at what I saw.