Prologue - Revised

Darkness, that's all there was. The rest of the world ceased to exist, vanished as though it had never been more than a fleeting thought after a child has awoken from a dream. Not a glimmer of light was let into the room, if that's even what this prison could be called. Although it might be plausible that there were simply no windows to let in the light, there was still the question of whether the garish sun or eerie moon dominated the sky. Was it daylight already, or was the moon smiling over the innocent who slept in their warm beds? Too many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

Dark panic surrounded her, like a slick velvet coat, wrapped tight against her trembling body. Maybe I’ve gone blind, she thought to herself, and that’s why everything seems so dark. Surely darkness this black couldn't be natural. The thought wasn't nearly as comforting as she had hoped it would be. Maybe I just haven’t opened my eyes yet? she considered. But she could feel herself blinking, and was forced to rule that option out as well. Maybe the hospital had lost power and the generator wasn't working. That would explain why the emergency back-up lights hadn't come on. She just needed to be patient and wait to be told what to do, or what was going to be done to remedy the situation.  Someone would come in and check on her soon; she just had to sit tight until then.

It was then she realized she was in a sitting position already, which was strange. She didn't remember sitting up. Shouldn't she have been lying down in her hospital bed? Logic told her that she should be, if she were still safe there. She cautiously reached her hand out, testing her surroundings, to see if she could feel the edge of the dresser that should have been against the wall next to her. There was nothing to grab a hold of, no bed rails or dresser. In fact, during her arm’s length exploration, she found that she wasn't even in a bed. Beneath her, her fingertips grazed hard, cold stone. It felt gritty and coarse, like she was sitting on concrete or cinder blocks. She was propped up in a corner on the floor; she could feel two walls meeting at her back through her thin hospital gown. Perhaps, since she was still in her hospital garments, she had been moved to another part of the hospital. That didn't explain why she no longer had the IV drip hooked up to her hand, or why she was no longer in a bed. 

“Okay, Sam,” she whispered to herself. “Think. Think.” She had to think back on what had happened. There had to be some explanation, some sort of clue. She strained her eyes and ears, hoping for something that would give away her location, but it was as silent as it was dark. With the walls at her back, she knew she had to be in some sort of closed structure, even if it wasn't the hospital. Buildings have doors, she thought, which mean there’s a way out. The only question was, could she find it? She was surprised that she wasn't bound and was able to move her hands and arms. She wasn't sure why someone would go through the trouble of taking her from the hospital, and then leave her in a room untied and able to escape.

When she tried to stand, she felt a sharp stabbing pain in the back of her head. She reached up to feel the spot but didn't notice anything unusual. There was no bump, nor did it feel wet with blood. Despite the lack of evidence, she wondered if someone had hit her in the head. Perhaps she had she been drugged. She had been in the hospital after all; maybe someone had been able to get a hold of something to keep her unconscious. Using the wall at her back for support and a hand flush against each wall, she slowly slid her body upright. The new perspective of her prison didn't provide any more light.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she pushed away from the wall and propelled herself a few steps forward. Screaming, she stumbled back into her corner, collapsing back onto the ground. With tears streaming down her face, she reached towards her feet. Biting her bottom lip, she felt along the sole until her fingers gingerly bumped against a jagged edge. Feeling her way against the protruding object she realized it was much smaller than the sensation it produced. After taking several deep breaths to brace herself, she pinched her fingers together along the smooth surface and pulled the shard of glass away from her skin.

With a cry of victory she threw the glass aside. Her triumph was short-lived, however, when during further exploration of her feet she discovered at least a dozen other pieces of glass embedded in her soles. They ranged from slivers to large shards. Feeling defeated, she slumped back against the wall, slightly rapping her head against the cool surface. "Just great," she muttered with a sigh of resignation.

Above her head, she heard a slight crackling noise. Cocking her head to one side, she tried to discern its source. A few seconds later, the sound transformed into a loud buzz that seemed to make the whole room vibrate. The buzzing began to get higher and higher until it became so piercing that she thought it would puncture her ears, melt her brain, and make it leak out of her damaged ears. The sound made her want to crawl out of her skin. Covering her ears did nothing to keep out the sound that pierced at her eardrums.

As suddenly as the sound had started, it stopped. She was panting, her hands pressed tight against her ears. "What do you want from me?" she shouted into the silence.

She wasn't really expecting an answer, which is why the one she received was especially surprising. "I want to see how long you can survive."

This had to be a dream- or rather, a nightmare. Things like this just didn't happen in real life.

She didn’t know how long she had been stumbling through the darkness, but at some point, Samantha had found a set of stairs that led to the main level of the building. She hadn't encountered any other obstacles in her path since the glass, but was always leery of what horrors her next step might reveal. The resolve she had found to get past the glass shards was fading fast. It had seemed like an eternity had passed while she removed the pieces that shredded the bottom of her feet.

She bumped into a step that was only a few inches above the ground. She followed it for a couple of minutes before she stepped up. Feeling out in front of her as she walked around, she figures she must be on a raised platform since she hadn’t bumped into any more steps or objects. She was afraid to go any further, afraid of what might be waiting for her beyond the first few feet from the step. Knowing she had nowhere else to go, she took another step forward. When her foot came down to where the floor should have been, she didn't feel it meet her bare flesh. Unable to shift her weight back in time, she tumbled down the opening in the floor with a scream, like Alice down the rabbit hole.

With a thud, she landed hard on her back, momentarily knocking the air out of her lungs. Letting out a groan, she sat up. It was hard to tell where she was considering she was still in the dark. Trying to determine the shape of her prison from what she had figured of the layout above her, she thought that the steps should be nearby since she hadn’t traveled far from them, if she went in the right direction. The fall had left her disoriented and she hoped that her best guess would take her in the direction of the steps. "This definitely is not Wonderland," she moaned to herself.

Scared, and with no other choice, she pushed herself off the ground and launched herself forward. With her hands out in front of her, she tried to quickly find a way out of the room. In her haste, her right knee bumped into something hard and movable. Reaching down, she felt along the wooden object to discover that it was a chair. Moving it out of her way, she continued along her path.

A few minutes later, she came to a halt as her fingertips brushed the wall. She decided to go right and trail the wall until she found an exit. When she approached a doorway, she cautiously explored the frame and panel, looking for the knob that would release her. Once she found it, in one swift motion, she twisted the handle and swung it wide open.

The gust of frigid air struck her in the face like a slap. Momentarily stunned, she took a step back, unsure of what she should do next. Knowing she had no other option but to go through the door and find her escape, she stepped beyond the doorway. When her foot came into contact with the smooth floor, she quickly jerked back, almost losing her balance. The floor was solid, but ice cold. The brief contact had already left her numb. Well, she assumed, being numb would be better than being in pain.

Bracing herself, she took the first step into the room again. Knowing what was in store dulled the intensity of the sensation somehow. After several steps, despite the numbness, she could still feel layers of internal flesh freezing as the cold penetrated through her skin and chilled her muscles. After a while the pain began to break through the numbness the cold had initially brought on and each step felt like tiny icicles were being drilled into her soft flesh. With her feet cramping from the torture they were enduring, she didn't know how much longer she could go on. Already she had started to lose her balance a few times. She needed to find a wall and the door; she needed to escape fast, before there was any permanent damage.

She didn't know how long she had been trudging through the room when she lost her balance and lurched forward. The momentum surged her forward causing her hands to come into contact with a wall. A gurgled scream of protest rose out through her throat as she felt resistance from long, sharp objects protruding from the unmoving surface. Caught off-guard, and with the momentum of her stumble, she wasn't able to stop t her hands until the spikes were halfway through her palms.

Surely now she must be bleeding from not only her hands, but her feet as well. She had nothing to wrap her wounds with but a scrap of her hospital gown, as the chair in the other room was the only object she had come into contact with that wasn't part of the structure.

Aware now of the spikes, she gingerly glided her hands over the surface hoping to find an escape route. What felt like hours later, instead of a door she had come to a pair of steps. This pair had a railing, unlike the previous set. Within two steps she heard a sizzle as the flesh of her feet and hands was eaten away by the acid coating the steps and handrail. Not sure how much more she could endure, she rushed forward. Even if a new torment awaited her at the top of the steps, she doubted it would be any worse than those she had already been forced to endure.

She tripped over her feet and toppled to the landing when she reached the top of the steps and landed with an oomph, with her right cheek and both forearms coming into contact with the acid. Unable to stop the tears from streaming down her dirty face, she pushed herself up and pushed forward to try to find a way out of the hell she was being forced to live. When she reached a doorway, she collapsed with a sob onto the floor. Thankfully, for the moment, there was nothing to cause her more pain. Feeling as though she hadn’t slept in years, she decided to close her eyes for a few moments.

Hearing a soft whoosh behind her, she sprang to attention, jumping to her feet. Though based on her experience of not being able to escape any prior cruelty, ducking might have seemed silly, it was her initial reaction. When everything around her seeming still once more, she slowly raised her body back up to a standing position.

That’s when she heard the laughter. And after that is when she was grabbed from behind.

One arm constricted her torso and pinned her arms to her sides, while her assailant's other arm held her head in a choke hold.

"Please," she pleaded breathlessly, "I still haven't seen your face, and I have no idea where we are. Just let me go. I wouldn't be able to tell anyone anything. I promise."

The chuckle turned into a genuine laugh. "I'm sorry. Did you honestly believe, throughout all of this, that you actually had a chance to leave? I thought I had made it clear that this was going to be your final resting place."

Before she could so much as blink her eyes, she felt a sharp stinging at her throat. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was no longer being held up. She tried to speak, but found that instead of words coming out of her mouth, a metallic-tasting liquid dripped from her lips. She crumpled to the ground like so much fluttering paper, her eyes and mouth open wide. The pool of blood from her slashed throat spread quickly on the floor. With her final breath, power was restored, and the room was engulfed in white light.

 

Author's Note

I am trying to put this novel together. I had one person read it, give some advice, and I am trying now to put that advice into action and fix the novel. I would however, like the opinion of multiple people.

Your input could help make it better. Please be honest as that's going to be the only way it can improve.

Please let me know the following:
1) What is your overall opinion of this particular section?
2) What do you like about this section?
3) What do you not like, or would change, about this section?
4) Is there consistancy?
5) Does this section leave you wanting to read more?

Reviews

[RachelReaper]

I like this section of writing a lot, but the one thing I would say is that you might want to cut down on the metaphors. The metaphors you have written in the beginning are beautiful and I can picture them. The only thing is, you have so many metaphors and you don't want to over whelm your reader with them. But other than that, I like the piece of writing and would like to read more.