Dome → Isaac Lahey

4.2 : riddles

Bzzz ... Bzzz ... Bzzz.

Casey groaned loudly at the sound of his phone vibrating on the edge of his wooden bedside table. It was 12:00 in the morning, why would anyone be calling him at this hour? He sighed and flipped over in his bed, grabbing his pillow and forcing it down upon his ear to block out the noise of the phone until it went away. But, it never went away.

The sound continued for several minutes before he finally gave up, throwing the pillow off somewhere in the dark room. He rolls over and picks his phone up, checking the caller I.D., guilt rushing over him when he sees Carmen's name.

"Hey, what's up?" Casey questions groggily, rubbing his other hand over his tired face.

Instead of hearing her smooth voice, all that comes through is heavy breathing and an obnoxious buzzing noise.

"Carmen?" He tries again, now taking initiative to sit up straight in his bed.

"C-Casey?" She finally replies, her trembling voice just above a whisper.

"Y-Yeah, I'm here, what's up?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He reaches back over to the bedside table and turns the lamp on, rubbing his eyes furiously. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Casey, I d-don't know where I am, I-" She begins, her voice cracking, implying that she had been crying, "I don't know how I got here-"

"Okay, um," Casey stood up from his bed, beginning to pace around the room. "Can you see anything?"

"No, I-I can't," She sobs lowly, "It's dark, I can't see, I can't-"

The phone abruptly cuts off, causing Casey's breath to hitch in his throat. He tugs roughly at his roots as he looks down at his calls, her name at the top of the list. What the hell was going on?

He attempts to call her again, only being sent straight to her voicemail.

"Fuck!" He kicks his desk chair over in frustration, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head down low. All he could think to do was keep calling, but every time he tried, he was redirected to her voicemail.

With every voicemail he encountered, his heart sank deeper and deeper into his stomach. In the pre-recorded message, her voice sounded so cheery, sweet, and smooth. Yet, when he talked to her on the phone, it was like talking to a completely different person.

He jumped when his phone vibrated again, coming up with her contact information once again. He wasted no time in clicking her name once again and bringing it up to his ear.

"Carmen?!"

"I don't think I can get out of here," She speaks in the same tone as before, "I-I can't move."

"Where are you?!"

"I don't know?" She cries, breathing heavily into the speaker. "It's too dark to see anything, but something's wrong with my wrist, I can't move it and it hurts so much!"

"How bad?" Casey orders, waiting for a response. When none comes through, he begins to panic even more, "Carmen, how bad!"

"I'm sorry," She groans, "O-Oh god, the smell down here . . It smells terrible, it's burning my eyes!"

"Okay, I'm gonna call the others and we'll find you okay?" Casey promised, putting the phone on speakerphone whilst he shimmied into some jeans and a jacket.

"P-Please save me," She sniffs, "You can do it, I know you can."

"I promise-"

"I have to call you back," She interrupts again, her voice rushed. "I have to go, I promise I'll call you right back-"