locked in, locked down

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(a/n: apparently chloroform doesn't actually knock you out instantly, but for the purpose of this story, it does.)

Blood. All I can smell is my own blood as I slowly open my eyes. My vision is blurred, but I can clearly tell that I'm not in the tent I went to sleep in. Now, my hearing balances out and I hear the creaking of wooden floorboards beneath me.

That's when I look down, noticing the huge gash on my arm and the source of blood, pooling onto the floor. As all my senses are thrown back into action, I feel the wave of pain rush over me. Its mind-numbing.

I clamber to my feet and make my way over to a window. Ripping open the thin, dusty curtains, I see nothing but woodland. No tents. No campsite. No people.

"What the fuck?", I mutter and try to open the window. Its locked.

I turn around and take in my surroundings. It seems like a cabin, small and suffocating. The only light is that which comes through the windows, and the air is stuffy and tainted by the classic metallic tang of blood.

Then it hits me. It is happening again.

Please no, not again, please.

Taking a deep breath, I try to control my emotions, but its too difficult and I'm too overwhelmed.

"What the fuck do you want?!", I yell, wincing in pain as I grab a nearby vase and hurl it onto the floor. It smashes, launching tiny ceramic pieces and water droplets all everywhere, as well as the flowers inside that land beneath a desk.

"Are you Amira's bitch or something?", I continue to shout whilst clenching my wounded arm to stop the bloodflow.

I prepare myself to holler another insult, but then I hear a large bang from below, as if something heavy had been thrown or dropped carelessly.

Now, my anger is just overcome my panic. My sight goes blurry and I stumble a little, realising that I need to get out of here and get medical attention, before I die of blood loss.

mya's pov-

"Hello?", I say out loud as I stroll through the forest. "Is this some prank? Its not funny guys."

I woke up earlier, leaning against a tree in the depths of the woods, alone. There's a persistent sweet scent lingering on me, and a less intense version inside my mouth. Chloroform.

(y/n) has never given me a reason to lie to her, and I never have. But I've not told her everything. The 'thing' that happened back home in Germany, the one that made my Dad refuse to look after me, I was kidnapped.

They used chloroform on me, snatched my 13 year old self off the streets when I was on the way home from school. So now, that smell, that sweet smell, is unforgettable to me.

I feel as if I could throw up. Who would do this? And why?

The crunching of leaves beneath my feet is consistent as I progress forward with no destination in sight. So when I notice irregularity, I pause, turning around. There's a fucking person there.

I quickly scurry behind a tree, peering around slightly to see a hooded figure now angrily kicking the same tree I woke up against. Were they expecting me to still be there?

I hold my breath. I can hear my thumping, racing heartbeat in my ears and feel said organ in my throat.

I'm gonna throw up, I'm gonna throw up. Please, don't let me throw up, don't let them find me.

It feels like years have gone by, when really its hardly been 30 seconds. With fear and hesitation, I peek around the trunk again, my brown curls getting slightly caught in the bark.

ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ- ʀɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏᴜ sᴜɴᴀWhere stories live. Discover now