MORPHEUS

The Hideout

I woke up with hazy thoughts. My last recollection was falling off a brick wall and landed on a metal trash bin then eventually got sedated. My body is sore everywhere. Particularly my left arm and leg that took the impact after the fall or so I thought. I tried to move them but it won’t. As I regained my consciousness, aside from the throbbing pain, I expected to feel but had none. My body was trembling from the freezing temperature. I heaved out a sigh and when I exhaled, I saw my own breath swirling into thin clouds.

Thankfully, I could somehow move my head a little now. Maybe the drug he put me on is somehow wearing off. I surveyed the area; it even took me a while to fully turn my head in the desired direction. What I saw next felt like a nail was hammered right into my chest.

They were washed off their warmth. Skins pale as snow, in fact it shone a little as the light from the window pierced through it. All lied on a thick block of ice, stripped off their clothes and their life. Eyes and mouth gaping wide open. Staring blankly into the nothingness that they have been reduced to.

“Am I hallucinating?” I tried to convince myself by the statement.

That’s when it dawned on me. I was no different from them except from one thing. I am alive and I can do everything to my wits end, for me to escape this place. First things first as you told me. Just like what we always see in your favorite suspense thriller movies. Determine the location. Scavenge for any weapon. Then plan your escape as you move along. So I tried my best to calm myself down as you would in any situation.

***

“Bee why not use your energy into something worthwhile. Instead of lounging around and getting bored easily?” You tried to pacify me as I keep banging the door. I was panicking okay? and it’s normal.

We were just thirteen then. Played a game of tag at school and eventually got locked out at the gym supply room. Even though we're practically kids, you handle everything calmy. It’s like you’re an old soul trapped in a kid’s body.

“So what do you suggest smarty pants?” I leaned on the door finally giving up on the idea and catched a few breaths.

You wore that smug face again. Looking down on me because you knew exactly what to do.

“Where are we right now?” There you go again beating around the bush. Acting all high and mighty just because you can.

I sneered before replying, “At the supply room.” Then collapsed myself into an indian sit while crossing my arms. I hate that you were always right.

“Then?” You prodded waiting for me to continue your favorite lines.

“The world is your oyster. Use it to survive.” I recited while rolling my eyes.

You clicked your head to the right gesturing me to stand up and get something for you that way. I dragged myself there as I murmured.

“You were saying something? Spell it out or I won’t understand. You’re not a baby anymore so use your words not murmurs.” Using that demanding tone on me again.

“It’s your idea why not do it yourself? I always do the dirty work for you.” I sulk behind the racks as I rummaged through it. “What do you want me to get for you, Master?” I tried my best to put sarcasm in every word.

“Get the rope I’m sure there’s one there and a steel chair beside the racks.”

I did as you ordered. Then you gave me that pitiful look. Your arrogance is what ticks me off everytime. Then I slammed the chair a little as I put it in front of you.

“I didn’t even know why we became friends? When you 're always exploiting me.”

Your thick brows furrowed and your face brightened. Smirking as you flawlessly run your fingers through your luscious silver hair. I hate your grey eyes, they seem dead to me.

Then you pat my head and mess my hair a little. “Wanted me to remind you? How I got rid of the girls and boys who bullied you in kindergarten? Don’t complain. I’ll be kind and employ you ten years from now.”

I felt my stomach churn and my face heating up for no reason. It was not like this before. I had to push you away to breath normal again.

“You’re breath stinks.” I said straight-faced trying to cover up my embarrassment. Partly somehow trying to get back at you too.

“Want me to prove you wrong?” Then you cupped my chin leaving me with no choice but to look at you.

You took steps forward while I did backwards. Then I finally swat your hands off me.

“I just want to go home, now what?” Somehow that brought you back and got rid of the awkward tension between us.

I just hate adolescence!

You explained the plan and now we are in a more awkward situation. The window was too high for us to reach on our own. Then the steel chair is not tall enough to step on too. Who the hell makes a gymnasium wall at twenty feet?

“Stop moving so much I feel dizzy up here,” I ordered.

“Your thighs are too big. I’m also suffering you know.”

Thanks to gym class, it’s a relief I’m not wearing a skirt right now. Hanging on top of your shoulders would've been more dreadful.

‘Stop imagining things, he doesn’t even see you as a girl you know.’

With that thought, I finally flicked the lock and opened the window. Dropped the rope that was tied around a nearby pillar for support. Then climbed out of it and slowly rappeled my way down the wall.

“I’m out. Try to stay alive until I come back with help okay?” I tried to reassure you.

“I may not be as physically fit as you but I’m not dumb enough to die in here.”

“Okay would have been fine and shorter too.” I argued while tapping dust off my sweatpants.

After fifteen minutes I came back with the janitor. When we opened the door I thought you already passed out. Thankfully you just got impatient and fell asleep.

***

I scowl in frustration. There’s not any weapon nearby and even if it did I can’t move my body anyways. I’m stuck in a block of ice, stark naked with nothing to fend for myself. I may or may not die in the hands of the serial killer but I’d surely die freezing to death. Who knows how many hours I was out? Panic washed over me again.

Tim, I hate to admit how needy I am. When I tried my best to be independent when you were away. I hated your guts. I hate your dead and calculating stares. I hate your condescending smiles. I’m not even looking forward to them. I hate your bedhead hair, it doesn’t look sexy at all. I hate that you always lead me on and leave me hanging on the edge. Who am I kidding? Will I just die in here not even admitting what you mean to me? In my defense I did my best okay?

I was way over into my head consumed by your thoughts again, when I heard plastic curtains ruffled. Judging from the blocks of ice we’re in and the piping system. I was detained in an ice plant. It’s probably the abandoned one. Who in their right mind would want to get caught with a pile of corpses? Enough not just to press charges but also put the culprit behind bars for years or worst never go out to see the daylight as a free man again. Footsteps nearing as the water from a faulty pipe had a rippling sound for each drop. It’s like a countdown to my death sentence, once the killer reaches my spot and finishes me off. If he’s not a nut job himself. I’d probably get away with a single stab wound straight to my heart. But if I was at his mercy, like the news told us----torture is just child’s play.

I could only pray to God for his mercy instead. I’m no religious person but I do pray when it counts and this has to count. Not asking for the impossible, to make it out without a scratch because I am already a casualty. As long as I make it out---I’m hoping in one piece and still breathing too. I won’t close my eyes no matter how scared I am.

In case I survive this, I’ll just play dead for him to leave me alone. Though I swear on my life to describe him down to a tee. I’ll put him behind bars and serve justice to his victims before me. Making sure all of this ends. I’ll be the last one of them. Before I knew it my captor was just a few meters away from me. Finally stepping out of the shadow and casually removing his mask to my surprise.