Reaping of the Wives

FIRST BLOOD

I came to with a jolt.

There was no comforting lull between unconsciousness and reality this time. I remembered everything. My pulse immediately began to throb as the adrenaline flooded my system again.

My clothing was soaked and clung to me, likely due to the stifling temperature of the room but I couldn't rule out the possibility of it being from the energy exerted from remaining in a constant state of terror.

I briefly wondered if it would kill me before they had a chance to. Surely the painful seizing in my chest had to be cardiac arrest and my heart would give out at any moment.

I sat up and pain rushed to my head as the feeling of my brain throbbing and threatening to explode made me groan. When I reached to touch my face and soothe the ache, I quickly pulled my hand back, startled by a foreign substance dried to the entire left side. I scratched and watched as dark maroon flecks fell onto my lap.

As I pulled my hand back to examine what I now had caked beneath my nails, the metallic scent of blood hit my senses. My fingertips gingerly followed the dry trail up until the tenderness of my brow bone proved it had split open where Thomas had struck me.

"Son of a fucking bitch."

I clenched my teeth as anger rose up within me. Though I was infuriated, I was grateful to finally be feeling an emotion other than crippling fear. Closing my eyes, I steadied myself, willing my heartbeat to slow. I knew I had a concussion, but I also knew I needed to think clearly.

After several deep breaths, I opened my eyes and took in my newest surroundings.

I was in rather large, impeccably clean, white room. Everything was so bright and pristine it gave off the appearance of a sterilized hospital. There was one metal door on the far side of the room, no windows, and a single bucket in the corner. The floor had to have been recently polished as the tiles gleamed beneath the overhead lighting.

Looking down, I further assessed myself.

I was lying on a bare mattress. Though it looked new, I could feel the springs digging into me as if it had been well used. My hat, hoodie, and shoes had been taken, and despite not being entirely surprised, I was still disappointed to find the cuff latched onto my ankle now bound me to the bed's metal frame by a much shorter chain.

There was nothing obvious that I could use to pick the cuff or padlock, let alone the metal door. I laid down, succumbing to exhaustion as the overwhelming feeling of defeat swept over me.

I stared at the ceiling, wishing cool air would come seeping through the overhead vent.

A vent!

I sat up as hope filled me. Then quickly laid back down incase I was being watched. I didn't want to give my idea for escape away before I had even figured out how to free myself from the chain.

Scenarios were running through my head tirelessly until a loud clang pulled me from my thoughts.

I sat up onto my elbow, ignoring the pounding in my head as I listened intently to what sounded like a door being opened nearby. Cries carried throughout the air and I realized there must have been a room like mine next to me. I stared at the wall; it was so thin, I could hear everything happening on the other side of it.

"Pl.. please.. please," one of the girls begged.

"What's your name?" a deep voice asked. I immediately recognized it belonged to Snake.

"C..C..Ca—"

"Aww," he mocked. "Don't be afraid. Now tell me," the sound of a chain being jerked echoed throughout the space followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. The girl let out a pitiful squeal and his tone took a hard edge as he repeated his question in a clipped tone. "What. Is. Your. Name?"