Chapter 3: Kat

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Kat

A slumber deeper than the ocean weighed down on my mind. Each time my mind stirred awake for a millisecond, sleep pulled me back down like an anchor, sinking me back into the depths of my dark and dense isolation.

After an uncountable length of time, I found the strength to break through the cinderblocks keeping my eyes shut and relished in the freedom of movement as my eyes fluttered open like butterflies who'd just found their wings.

Through the rapid movement of my lashes, glimpses of a room most unfamiliar flickered across my sight. There was not much to the room. A book case the height of a table sat by itself in the corner of the room with nothing more than what looked to be dust and a couple dilapidated books holding It down. And that was it; aside from the lumpy bed I was laying on.

A bed that was not mine.

I shot up off of the bed, sitting upright as it all came screaming back to me.

Heather. Layla. Two men grabbing me. Chloroform.

And now I was here; but where exactly was here?

I had zero recollection of how I got here, in this bed, in this room.

What day was it? How long had I been out? Where was Heather?

I was still in the clothes that I had been when I was taken which I guessed was a good sign. Expectedly, my back pocket was missing the lump of my phone that had been in there previously. My bag with the few things I brought along was also gone- meaning that the mace I had brought for protection was about as useful as a broken umbrella in a hurricane.

Getting off of the bed, I walked the room, inspecting it and noting that there were two doors in the room, one closet, and not a single window. The one door as I found led to a bathroom, small but functional as it seemed and the other I had to assume led out; out into a place where I had no beginnings of an idea as to what awaited me when I would get there.

And as I heard the knob on the bedroom door begin to turn, it appeared I was about to get my first clue in this confounding situation I'd gotten myself into.

A curly, brunette head of hair attached to a man peeked through the door as he opened it a few inches, shock illuminating his features as his eyes jumped to mine.

"I didn't know you were up yet."

It struck me as odd the fact that even though he appeared to be surprised to see me, his voice was unobstructed by any such emotions or levels whatsoever. It was also considerably deeper than I expected it to be.

"Who are you?" I needed to be on defense at all times in this place- starting now.

He blinked twice and then shook his head. "Not important. Are you hungry?"

Ignoring the hunger pains shooting off in my stomach, I asked, "Where am I?"

"So, no to the food?"

"Are you going to brush off every fucking question I ask?"

"If you keep asking dumb questions, then yes," he replied without missing a beat.

I hadn't even spoken 20 words to this guy and already I wanted to rip his head clean off his body. He was either the epitome of an asshole or just absolute shit at first impressions. I think what was bothering me most though was the fact that he wasn't even smug in his rudeness. He was just disinterested in every way. He couldn't have been older than mid-twenties and already he appeared to be so desensitized by whatever the fuck was going on around here he didn't even have his basic human decency intact anymore.

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