CAPTIVES

1. Captives

TOkay, this is is purely experimental.

If you like it, please PLEASE comment and/or vote and spread the word if you think it's good!

Thanks to everyone.

This story is a bit more serious than The Poodle in my High School but I hope you like it!

katkrazy^.^

Chapter One- The Cellars

I groggily open my eyes. What? Where... where am I? What is this pl-

Oh. Yeah. I remember now. The cellar.

I slowly raise my head and gaze around, feeling a little dizzy. I can barely make out any features in the darkness; the only source of light is a tiny window high up in a corner, with strong vertical iron bars at regular intervals across it. It casts a murky light onto a small patch of floor to my right. From the pale hue, I'm guessing it's either dawn or dusk.

Apart from that, there seems to be almost nothing. The walls are all at least six metres high and made of ancient cobbled stone. The floor is made of this also, and is freezing cold. The room is about the size of a large living room, although it's hard to tell. On top of all this, the entire place reeks of something old and rotten. I hate to think what.

I reluctantly sit up, starting to shiver. Now I can remember everything.

I have been held as a prisoner here for at least a year, I think. It's not hard to lose track of time in this place.

We are usually kept above ground, but word of a mission to rescue us had spread and our captors had decided to move us underground. Just in case. I have long ago lost hope, however. We haven't been rescued, despite countless attempts. Most of the would-be rescuers are now dead, or, if they're unlucky, down here with us.

They shouldn't worry about anyone rescuing me, however. After all, what I did is unforgivable. They probably think I deserve to be here. Murder is not something that can be passed off as an accident.

My teeth start to chatter. It feels as if the temperature is steadily falling, and I can do nothing but sit here, hugging my knees to my chest and hoping for the best.

I gasp as I hear movement in a corner. "Wh-who's there?" I whisper. I'd thought I was alone, and that everyone else was in different chambers. Apparently not.

A girl moves slowly into the light. She is as skinny as me, and has long brown hair falling down her back. Elsie.

"Come here!" My voice rises a little, and I put a hand over my mouth. No one seems to have heard me. "Oh, Elsie, I thought you were dead!"

She crawls over to me, and I'm alarmed to see she looks even weaker than last time I saw her. "I'm not dead." Her voice is hoarse. "But sometimes it feels like it."

"Are they feeding you?" I pull her onto my lap and hug her tight. Elsie is one of the youngest of us, only six. A few weeks ago they had taken her, as they often take people, and we had all thought her dead. But here she is, alive. For now.

"Yes," she whimpers. "Sometimes." She begins to sob

.

"Shh, it's okay, it really is," I soothe her.

"Why are you down here?"

"Another rescue crew is coming," I sigh. "I heard the guards organising a crew to meet them."

Elsie shudders. "I wonder how many will die."

"Don't think about that, Elsie."

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Then Elsie speaks. "There are other people here, too."