Hiding in the Shadows

Chapter One: Caged

The chains dug into my wrists. Blood and puss oozed out of the infected wounds. They'd been rubbed raw for the better part of my imprisonment. I opened my eyes. My dreams vanished, and with them, any hope of escape.

My fingers tingled as my eyes darted left and right. A small plate housing a single roll of bread ended their search. I darted forward, scrambling to the only food I would receive that day. I reached out, but my hands were pulled short. My momentum jerked me backward, away from the beautiful roll. I snarled, my tangled hair falling over my face.

My cheek muscle pulsed in anger. I carefully slid forward on my knees, dragging my arms behind me. My back arched as I stuck my feet out. They wrapped around the plate and I pulled it closer. The bread was bland but freshly cooked and warm. Bit by bit, I peeled each layer back and placed it on my tongue. I savored every second as it melted in my mouth. I sighed after licking the salt off of my fingers. My stomach still ached with hunger, but I was satisfied at least for a little while.

I crawled back and leaned against the wall, tucking my knees into my chest to ease the stomach pains. My mouth was dry, but I couldn't hope for water. I had used it all already. They only handed out the water once every week, Sundays: my favorite days. It was the only way I could keep track of the weeks that had passed. Every day felt the same here.

I turned my shoulders to face the wall. A small crack scarred the wall about a third of the way up. I struggled, pulling a rusty nail out and drew a small line into the concrete, about the length of a finger. I gazed up at my wall of days. Seven months and one week, but that was after my lab days. I don't know how long I spent there. All I knew was that it was snowing. It had to have been almost a year.

My thoughts drifted away from the prison. I allowed it to. Flashes of my past sprang before my eyes. Faces and images of home. Home. Freedom. The mere hint of freedom would get me out of this place, I only needed something to start the chaos.

As if on cue, the door's lock clicked and inched open. No one had ever come into my cell while I was awake. That was part of my punishment, no human contact. They only came in the night if they needed to give me food, and the bread was already being digested. The door creaked open just a bit farther, enough to let a little light in. My room had no windows and my eyes were not used to the glare of the sun. They begged to squint at the faint glow, but I refused to miss anything. My hands clenched in their chains as my body tensed, waiting for this mystery visitor. Warmth filled my stomach, creeping up my neck and blushed my cheeks. An embarrassment for the way that I looked. Thin and pale with ratchety, knotted hair. 

But as the light glinted off of a leather boot, I shook it off. These were the people who had taken me from my life, imprisoned me against my will.

And I was finally ready to meet them.