If Things Were Different

Chapter Five

True to your word, you stay absolutely still. The metal bar was long abandoned in fear of the masked man finding you and killing you for disobeying his orders. However, there’s a problem. A few, actually.

One, you’re bored.

You have absolutely nothing to do as you wait for someone to come back and most likely harm you. That’s not exactly comforting, but it still sucked ass as you waited in a very dark room with nothing to do. Time, you’ve found, no longer has any meaning. Time’s nothing but a lie. You’ve laid here for an unknown amount of time. It could be seconds, minutes, hours, even days. The light outside the window remains unchanged; not even clouds moved to reveal what time of night it was. The moon was hidden from your view, keeping you from seeing what phase it was in or if any time has changed at all. Time’s a complicated subject, but you’re also very convinced that it no longer exists, or if it even existed at all.

Two, you’re hungry.

You’re so fucking hungry, you could eat anything. Thirst is also a huge problem. Your stomach feels shrivelled and your lips are cracking from the lack of fluids passing your lips. You hardly have any moisture in your mouth, so licking your cracked and bloodied lips do nothing to soothe them. Your stomach complains about the lack of food all the time, leaving you to whimper pathetically to yourself. There was no doubt these freaks are doing this to you on purpose.

Three, you still have to pee.

The feeling’s subsided since it’s been a while, but now, there’s an uncomfortable weight pressed against your bladder. If you don’t get to a restroom soon… Actually, you don’t want to think about that. The possibility of laying in your own urine makes you gag and wince.

Four, you’re still severely injured.

You don’t know if your wounds are infected, but holy fuck, they turn like a bitch. They ache, they burn, they constantly remind you that this isn’t some sort of fucked up dream. Were you shot because you called the police? Who, exactly, had shot you? The three figures from your room are blurry from your then-foggy memory, so it might’ve been one of them as you have a feeling the British guy wasn’t there. You think you would’ve seen him in your room with the others.

Either way, you’re not in the condition to make a run for it, to fight back, or to really do anything other than lay there and wait for someone to come back.

“You’re still awake? Interesting.” The voice snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s the masked British guy who keeps popping in on you.

“So it seems,” you rasp, letting out a strangled laugh. You don’t really know why you laughed.

“Hmm. I suppose you’re ready to cooperate some more?” he questions. You watch as he silently walks to the spool of wire and takes a seat. You nod weakly and he nods in approval. “Good.” It’s silent as he pulls out a handkerchief, and though the scent’s revolting, your stomach growls. This catches the masked man’s attention. “Hungry, are we?”

“More thirsty than anything,” you manage. He says nothing. “What did you want to know?” Your plan is to pretty much do anything they ask of you in hopes that your death would be quick and painless. It’s pretty obvious to you that you’re not getting out of this alive, so you’d rather cooperate and be as useful as possible before that time comes.

“Before we get to that, why don’t we make a deal?” he asks. You stay silent to allow him to continue. “If you answer my questions with no bullshitt answers, I’ll give you food and water.”