Dead Drop

Do Not Come Looking For Me!

3 days...

I've been stuck in here for three days.

I don't know where I am.

I don't know how I got here.

I don't know how I'm going to get out.

These constraints are killing me! I tugged sharply against them. I've been working to get them off for the past 3 days. I've been alone in here for three days. The guys... the come in. First they feed me. They then take me to the bathroom. They spray me down with water, make me change my clothes, let me use the bathroom and then they tie me up again. Sometimes with different things. The first day it was handcuffs. Then it was rope. Today it's the same cloth that they had wrapped around my eyes. I was always blindfolded. The only time I could see is when they needed me to change my clothes or I had to use the bathroom. Yet, the room felt small to me. Every sound would bounce off the walls easily. There was no real echo. It felt stuffy, like the air in there didn't have enough space to move around. So tight that even the air began to feel claustrophobic.

Maybe it's just me. Or maybe it's the constant darkness. Maybe it the constriction of the clothe. Maybe it's the dehydration, or the hunger, or the sleep deprivation. Maybe the room's not tiny, but I am.

It could be the feeling of complete helplessness that's making me feel so cramped. It could be the feeling of the cuts and bruises and all the other injuries that have been inflicted upon me that is making me blame the room for my discomfort. Or maybe it's the way in which I am disappointed in myself for getting captured in the first place.

I'm the leader of the circle now. I have responsibilities. I'm supposed to be the best of the best and I just let myself get caught. It's ridiculous. It's damn near pitiful. I'm rather ashamed of myself.

Yea... I did put up one hell of a fight but still. Someone out fought me. Someone was better trained than me. I can't help but think that it wasn't my training or my fighting abilities. Maybe I could blame my mind for being distracted. Maybe I was not focused enough or maybe I got cocky and underestimated my opponent. Yet something about fighting this person felt personal. It felt familiar.

I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy or I'm just extremely sleep deprived, but something about this encounter with my masked opponent felt like more than what normally occurs. Something about this fight didn't just seem like "I need to kidnap you now." It felt more personal. It felt deeper.

Okay really... how tired do I have to be to critically analyze the way in which some guy fought me. The most important thing to think about now is how I'm going to get the hell out of here. I need to see in order to get a lay out of the room. For the most part I think there is only one exit and entrance and exit. I only hear the men coming in from on side of the room in the exact same location. I know air is getting into this room but I'm not entirely sure how because I don't hear or feel a vent. I also highly doubt that they would hold a hostage in a room with a window in it. That seems ridiculous. Yet, I don't assume we are anywhere near people. I don't hear cars or trains or anything relatively loud like that. Yet, that also could mean that the rooms are sound proof and that could explain a lot of things.

All of this thinking was making my head throb. I'm also 90 percent positive that I currently have a concussion so maybe this is not my best idea. I think I really do need to try to get some rest. I need to sleep to heal and regain my strength. I need to be as strong as possible if I'm going to make it out of this place. I closed my eyes and let the sleep my body desperately needed wash over me. Yet as I slept a dream didn't meet me, but instead a memory.

Ring

Ring

Ring

I stared at the mountain of paperwork in front of me before picking up the phone. Exhausted, I sighed before answering.