My wrists scream in agony as my restraints tighten and chaff against my skin, the fiction slowly burning the organ till it's red and raw. I don't know if I can hold off much longer.
I try to focus on other things around me, the leaky pipe in the right hand corner that always seems to drip in a steady beat. One. . . two. . . three- no I can't take this anymore! My cloth gag rips at the corners of my mouth as I attempt to manoeuvre my jaw out of its grip. Struggling and squirming, I manage to tear the rope with help from a handy lighter I kept in my pocket. Sometimes there are advantages to being a nicotine addict- said no one else ever.
The physical part of this whole experience is bad enough, but it has been three days without food and water and my mind isn't doing to well. They say that after a victim is moved from the first location by their captor their chances of surviving are close to none, this is my fourth location.
I hear whispers from the darkness, a giggle from the wind, the voices yelling at me for being so stupid. There were ghosts that drifted through the room as a creation of my own paranoia, I knew it was all in my head, but that didn't make it any better.
My rusted arms creak as I reach for my gag, though there is no time to oil them to my satisfaction, as the oil I crave is the time needed to escape. Time needed to stretch my wound legs, the time needed to unfold my joints from the position I was sat in from capture to drop-off, not to mention the transport between the two.
When I took my first breath from my mouth in the last three days, my next words were the relief that I craved.
"Ring-a-round the Rosie, A pocket full of posies." I monotonously sing.
A slow clap comes from behind the wall, and I sigh a little. "I'm surprised you lasted that long. You know, I really though the constant transport would break you." Rafael chuckles deep and croaky as his eyes meet mine through a puff of smoke.
"When I said make the restraints more difficult to get out of, I didn't mean tie it so that it gets tighter the more I pull on it!" I glare jokingly at him. "And don't even get me started on the three days with no food and water, Rafael are you trying to kill me?"
Rafael was definitely a character, I mean anyone you meet in an alley would be. He is short, probably below my chin and have you ever heard that saying - "The short ones are always the angriest", yeah. . . they aren't lying. On the night that me and Rafael met, I was kidnapped - well, almost. Rafael has spotted a length man in a mask trying to drag me into his van and managed to pull a gun on my attacker and scare the group off, without him I don't know where I'd be now.
Apart from being a chain smoker, Rafael is also an underground owner of Escape or Die Trying! After finding me in the situation that he did, Rafael propositioned me and offered guidance. His company was a business where they would fake-kidnap you and create different scenarios to train yourself in the art of escape. His eldest daughter was taken from him when she was only eight years of age and his mission is to prevent as many daughters, sons, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers and so on, from ever getting into her situation.
Initially I declined him and went on my way, but persistent as ever - Rafael caught up to me and told me to at least take his card in case I changed my mind. And well, I did. So here we are now, The third fail of this week.
In these simulations of sorts, you are given a time that the capture will take place, along with a safe-sentence. This safe-sentence can be used at any point in time to pause or end the experience, I have had to do this for all three of my attempts. No matter how many survival videos I watch on YouTube, I never manage to fully escape.
"And when I said that you couldn't bring in outside tools, that included a lighter!" He chastises. He does have a point, but I was getting desperate to escape just once by this point!
'Yeah, yeah." I sigh in acceptance and turn away from him, "I'm going to head home now. Same time next week?" I question to confirm my previous inquiry.
"Same time next week, mi amour." His soft Italian accent filters through the rough grumble.
As I exit the building, I am immediately drenched by pelting rain, which isn't the worst thing in the world considering the fact that I have been sitting in my own sweat and blood for the last two days. Thankfully, using the bathroom is permitted during the simulation, though you are supervised the entire time to ensure that you do not cheat. I've heard that people will hide anything in their rear if they want, or need it bad enough.
My thoughts of toilets and the simulation are cut to a halt as I step into the Uber car that was waiting outside. At least at the end of all this I get a free ride home, courtesy of the lovely Rafael himself.
I settled myself into the backseat and put my head against the window, as a kid I would watch as the rain droplets would slide down the glass pane and reflect the light of the orange streetlamps. I would choose a droplet to focus on and hope that it would reach the windowsill before the others, and if it didn't , I would cut my loses and try again. Over and over again until I had the satisfaction of winning, that overwhelming feeling of pride that comes with coming out on top. I still have that same drive, and I will keep trying, as many simulations as it takes. I will escape.
I loud horn vibrates the window and I immediately sit upright and evaluate my surroundings, the car is fine - definitely not in pieces - I'm fine - and definitely not in pieces. I look up and make direct eye-contact with the driver, he looks completely done and definitely expecting something, though I have no idea what it could be. Why isn't he doing his job? He is meant to be driving not parked on the side of the road next to- oh.
I am quick to apologise and duck my head as I get out of the car, I don't have anything else with me. Not my phone, not my keys, not even my stupid lighter, Rafael just had to nip it from my pocket as I turned to leave- bastard.
"Ah!" I hiss loudly as I step on a particularly sharp rock, now why did Rafael have to take my shoes? I sigh as I finally make it to my front door and bend down with a groan to take the key out of my hidden lock-box, it's locked with a code instead of a key - I've learnt my lesson a few times already. Plus, Rafael recommended it to me after I complained about having to break into my own home after being dropped off from the simulations. Rafael recommends that we leave our keys at home on the day of our capture to ensure that there is no chance of losing our keys or utilising them in our escape, he also likes to say that 'insurance doesn't cover illegal underground businesses, and this don't make me enough money to be replacing your personal items!'
I manage to groan and complain my way to the shower and turn on the tap, only for it to be ice-cold and give me immediate hypothermia. Or at least that's what it feels like.
I give up on my shower and flop onto my bed, also realising that I didn't even strip before getting in the shower so now my bed is soaked in ice-water. I'm too tired for this, I'm just going to sleep.
The next morning I squint as the light peaks through the blinds, effectively binding me, my eyes still having not adjusted to the light after being blindfolded for three days. Realising I have work today, I roll out of bed and head into the shower.
After showering - at the right temperature this time - I quickly slip on a white blouse and a pair of black dress-pants. Grabbing my keys and phone from my bedside, I head into my garage and settle in my car. "Okay, do I have everything?"n I sigh, doing a quick double-check in my head. "It would seem so."
On the drive to work I continue to stretch and crack my aching muscles and joints, I hate having to complete the simulations the nights before work but the weekend is the only time I have. Friday afternoons are my scheduled capture and the simulations can go one for days at a time, just like the previous one.
I arrive at work with the millionth sigh of the day and slide my phone and keys into my pant pockets, I wave and greet a few co-workers and they pass and head up to my office. Back to my nine-to-five office job, woohoo. I start up my desktop computer and begin filling out some forms my boss left me to complete.
It was now Wednesday and my week was going as normal, all a strict repeat of Monday. God, sometimes I wish the only thrill in my life didn't come from getting kidnapped by a company I paid to do so, it's kind of sad. Not to mention the fact that my every spare thought is focused on completing and escaping the simulation.
My heels click and echo with each step as I make my way to my car at the isolated back-corner of the parking garage. My plans are cut short when I feel a hand reach around my head and cover my face with a cloth that brings a strange scent- chloroform I'm familiar. Though, it is a little odd. Not only is it Wednesday - and not Friday as scheduled - I thought Rafael had moved on from chloroform, he knows it doesn't affect me as much as it used to after being exposed to it so many times. Now that I think about it, that doesn't sound very healthy, maybe I should schedule a check-up with my GP? My thoughts of the medical affects of these simulations is interrupted by an overwhelming darkness, here we go again.
I feel the hum of a car engine and my vision slowly blurs back to life. I don't have a blindfold on this time which I find odd, Rafael knows I regain consciousness shortly after being dosed, why would he want me to be able to see my surroundings during transport? My thought gain further concern as I realise that my restraints are duck tape instead of rope, is e trying to make it easier on me? Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose?
Suddenly the doors of the van are ripped open and I freeze in place, I was half-stood with a look of surprise that mirrored their own. My captors began talking angrily in a foreign langue and lunged into the van to grab me. One latched around my ankle and the other my waist, I struggle beneath their hold and manage to kick one of them away. They call out and I still can't understand what they are saying, I thought Rafael was making it easier, turns out he just wanted to add more people and role play to the mix. Though I don't know where he found bilingual actors to help him out, in fact I'm surprised they aren't Italian. After I punch the other captor in the nose, I bolt my way out of the van, only to find myself surrounded by up to seven other captors. Rafael is really spending his monthly budget all on me for these actors, he must really not want me to escape.
Knowing that I have no chance of escaping seven men, I surrender myself and hope to be able to escape from my second destination- and I will, there is no way I'm failing another simulation. These things are not cheap and I have bills to pay. I hauled away my my arms and thrown into another van, I guess they realise the other van wasn't quite secure. They also managed to fix their mistake with the blindfold, though it was so tight that I hissed in pain as they pulled on the rope. They also re-bound my wrists with rope after realising I had torn the duck tape apart with ease, I'm still shocked at the mistakes that were done earlier, I have never been able to break away from first transport like that.
With my new sense of achievement, I am motivated and encouraged to escape this time, even more than I was before I was captured.
The trip to the second location was short, and before I knew it the sound of passing cars had faded and was replaced with the sound of gravel and eerie silence, I was familiar with the lack of noise. The small familiarity was an unexpected comfort to ease the slight anxiety that overcame me during the drive as I thought everything over, the incorrect day, the odd capture, but I knew that was probably Rafael's goal. He wanted me to be uneasy, unsettle me so I'm not thinking straight, but it wouldn't work- not this time.
They dragged me out by my hair this time and my scalp screamed at the pain, the burning sensation travelled down my neck and spine as they threw me to the ground.
"Što ćemo sad s njom?" One of the men sneers, he sounds to my left but I know echoing can be misleading.
"Šef neće biti ovdje neko vrijeme," another man replies in a similar tone. "Idemo je malo uzdrmati prije nego što stigne." Now I don't know what they are saying, but I really don't like how that sounded. . .
"mislimo slično brate," is said by the first guy. Considering their is no other voice, I am going to conclude that there is only two in this room, though that may not be the case. Footsteps pound towards me and I feel a shiver trail down my spine, something is telling me this isn't how it's meant to go. I quickly re-evaluate my situation and realise that I still have my keys, though my phone is nowhere to be found.
It doesn't bother me though as I have everything I need stashed on my key chain, hidden in plain sight. But again, this confuses me, because Rafael is aware of the weapons and tools that sit on my chain. Why would he leave it with me?
Without worrying too much about why, and more focusing on what my plan is here, I pull out my keys and flip open my switch blade. I am able to wiggle my hands and manage to cut the rope from my hands, as I reach up to remove my blindfold I hear a chuckle.
"She knows we can see what she is trying to accomplish, no?" One of the men say in a thick accent ad I freeze. If they already know and haven't stopped me, I figure I might as well continue my previous plan and remove my blindfold. In front of me I see two tall, buff men covered in tattoos, standing with their arms crossed over their chests. They look almost identical and I conclude that they are probably siblings of some kind.
"Hand it over sweetheart," the one on the left reaches out their hand and gestures to the key chain. I huff and hand it over, having done this a few times before. "pas se pokorava."
I hear the two laugh bitterly after whatever he had said, I sneer at them. "You know, it's pretty disrespectful to speak in another language in front of the person you are talking about. At least say it in a way I can understand."
"I said, 'the dog obeys'," he spits at me and I recoil in disgust.
"What are you? Perverts? Why would Rafael send you to treat me like this, this was never part of the deal." I didn't expect them to actually answer my last question, if Rafael did plan this scenario it would be bad if they broke character.
"Oh he didn't send us," the one on the left muses. I'm surprised they actually acknowledge that they know him, it's a little odd and I pause, distracted.
Before I know it, the two are gone from before me and I quickly turn my head to ensure they are not nearby. I don't bother worrying about where they went, and instead focus on the task and opportunity at hand.
I spring up and begin to run towards the large broken window I spotted before me, I get about a metre from the glass before I and flung back on my back. God that hurt, I look at my waist where the impact of the pull had been the strongest and notice a rope around my waist. Having no idea how I didn't notice it earlier, I turn around to detach myself. But instead of being greeted by the sight of an empty room and a dripping rusted pipe in the right-corner, I see two pairs of piercing eyes glaring at me through the fog.
Oh no, this wouldn't be good.
The two men walk up to me with sinister smiles on their faces and a weapon of choice in one hand. The one on the right holds a crowbar in his left hand and the other is tightly gripping a hammer. There was no way they were actually allowed to do anything with those, Rafael was probably standing behind a wall and gave them the weapons to add a fear factor. And I must say, it was working quite well.
They stand before me and the one on the left lifts the hammer, "where do you think you're going?" His grin is wicked and I begin to think that they might actually hit me with the metal.
And they do.
I sharp pain throbs against my side, as I feel pounding in my head. I instinctively grip my side and as I pull my hand away, blood pours from my hands. I look up with my mouth agape to see the blood also drenched along the hammer, the thick crimson liquid slowly running down his arms. This was definitely not Rafael, and I was definitely not escaping this time.
The brother on the right lifts his crowbar and before I know it, my vision is clouded by red and everything is fading black. My legs give out and I fall to the floor, the loud crack of my spine is heard as I am hit from behind and collapse in on myself. Blood pours from my head, my mouth, my eyes, my side and now my back. I look up and whisper my last hope.
"Ring. . .a-round. . . the Rosie," I take one last gasping breath. "A pocket full of posies. . ."