Painless

Chapter Twenty-Two

When I came to, I kept my eyes shut, listening for a noise, any noise, around me that would give me some sort of clue as to where I was. I could hear the rhythmic hum of air circulating around the room and felt a slight breeze as my hair brushed across my face and tickled my nose annoyingly. It was driving me crazy after only a few seconds, and I was about to swipe at the stray strand when I realized that I couldn’t move my arms.

            I was paralyzed!

Fighting off a burst of panic, I wondered how they’d done it. Had they crushed my bones while I was out or just slipped me a roofie to make sure I couldn’t move? Would I ever write again? Hit someone? The thought of not being able to use all my limbs made me feel completely powerless. I was starting to hyperventilate when I felt the familiar tingles that came with limbs that have fallen asleep. Apparently, mine were beginning to wake up.

Thank God.

A few minutes and a lot of adjusting later, I realized that the reason I couldn’t move was because I was tied to a chair, my arms behind my back. It was the ropes that bound my wrists together, that were causing the lack of circulation and numbness. I wiggled my fingers to see if I could free them, but the knots were too tight. Whoever had tied me up wasn’t playing around.

The room remained quiet around me, but still I resisted the urge to open my eyes. I had no idea how long I’d been out for. And for that matter, I was feeling clueless over what had happened in the first place. I searched my memory to try and fill in the blanks. The last thing I remembered was slipping through the mystery door after knocking out my attackers—single-handedly I might add. It had been pitch black and I couldn’t see anything…

…until the outline of a person began to materialize through the darkness. Then there’d been sparks and sleep. Lots of sleep.

And now I was stuck here in a room with massive air conditioning, alone by the sound of it, tied to a chair with no way to get out. At least this was more like what I’d expected from a kidnapper. Not that I was at all happy about being kept in here against my will. That part sucked.

It had been over five minutes since I’d woken up and I still hadn’t heard anything that would make me think anyone else was in the room with me, so I took a chance and let my eyes flutter open.

“Ahhh, the prodigal daughter awakens.”

I blinked hard, my eyes struggling to adjust to the bright lights in the room. When they did, I studied the man sitting in front of me. He was older, at least 10 years older than my dad. His hair had receded right off his head, and he wore old man glasses which made his eyes look huge, like I was seeing them under a magnifying glass or something. He was tiny in stature, and looked slightly weak or brittle. When he spoke, he did so with an accent. British, I think.

“Actually, I go by Bliss,” I said bitingly. “Who the hell are you?” 

But I knew exactly who he was. It didn’t take a genius to guess that the man in front of me was Dr. Jackson.

He tisked at me disapprovingly. “Now, now. Such language. I know your parents taught you manners,” he answered calmly. “Then again, it seems they taught you a lot of things over the years that you haven’t listened to. Like minding your own business and not getting into situations you can’t handle.”

“News flash, Dr. Psycho. They’re also the ones who taught me how to hunt down and destroy people like you.”

“Your father always did say you were a difficult one,” he said, getting up and walking around the room.

This gave me the perfect chance to check out exactly where it was that I was being held against my will. Everything in the room was white. White chairs, white walls, white bed, white table. The color was blinding and I fought the urge to squint through the glare. The space wasn’t quite like jail. It was more like a dorm room, only the wall that held the door—also the only way out—was made completely of glass. Probably so the good doctor and his minions could keep tabs on us at all times. Then again, they could’ve easily gotten cameras for that. As I spent more time looking around, I began to wonder if it wasn’t actually designed to remind the prisoners that freedom was just out of reach.