Out of the Darkness

Chapter 5

My awakening brought me no comfort or solace. As usual, I woke up feeling miserable after a restless night's sleep. My limbs ached and my eyelids burned. I rubbed them as I stood up to stretch my muscles, wishing the time would pass quickly so I wouldn't have to deal with this endless cycle anymore.

I looked over at the forgotten tray resting below the open service hatch. Anna? Was she real? Did she really exist?

I rushed to the service hatch, crouching down, listening. The cries had stopped. The hallway was silent.

“Anna?” I callecd out. “Anna! Are you there?”

Silence filled the air. Nothing moved but me.

“Anna?” I cried out again. Was she only a figment of my imagination? Another cruel illusion.

The silence was broken by the distant sound of footsteps and voices. Was this my mind playing tricks on me also? I didn't know what to believe anymore. I pulled my jacket up around my ears, closing it around my face, hoping to block out the noise. I couldn't take any more. The voices grew louder. They kept growing closer. I felt fear course through me, making my heart race. I forced my eyes shut trying to concentrate on something else – anything else but the voices.

Still, the voices couldn’t be blocked out. They began to solidify, forming words.

“Damien,” an unfamiliar male voice echoed down the hallway. “Boss said the transporters finally arrived. If you start over there, I’ll start on this side.”

“It’s about damn time,” a familiar voice replied. It was the voice of the green-eyed man. “If they took any longer we’d be delivering them a bunch of corpses.”

“What was the hold up anyway?” Damien continued.

“The transporters were delayed, apparently. There was some kind of emergency.”

Suddenly, a loud scream pierced the air, cutting off their conversation. It sounded as if someone was being tortured. A second later, I heard a thud, followed by more screams. The screams grew distant along with the sound of receding footsteps, but somehow I knew there would be more. And more. And more.

The footsteps returned. Another scream rang out. This time it was much nearer. I realized what was happening now. They had finally come for me. This wasn’t a hallucination. I felt myself begin to shake. My breath came out faster and quicker each time I breathed. Sweat gathered upon my forehead. The screams continued. The sounds reverberated throughout my senses.

They were so close. I heard them open another door. More screams filled the air. They were so close now, as if the source of the sound was coming from within the cellar walls.

“Kat. Kat.” The voice screamed.

Anna?

“Help me!” The voice pierced into me.

My knees buckled. I couldn't make sense of it. I stumbled over to the mattress and sat down heavily. The world felt like it was spinning around me. Even if I could help her, I wouldn’t. I was a coward. All I could was wait. Wait for them to get me, for them to come for me.

As the seconds went by, the terror intensified. My breathing grew shallow and quick. I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe. I was paralyzed. My vision blurred. Tears streamed down my face silently.

The door opened. I could see two men silhouetted against the light of the corridor. One was holding a gun aimed at me. The second one walked towards me with a smirk plastered across his face. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. I knew it was futile. I was too weak and they had a gun pointed at me.

He grabbed my hair and pulled my head backward. I tried desperately to escape his grip, to no avail. I looked at him with wild desperation. I was afraid; absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes tightly as he pulled my hair tighter and tighter.

“Hello again beautiful.” He chuckled coldly, grabbing me roughly by the arm, and pulling me into a standing position. My weakened legs shook under my weight.

“Walk!” He ordered.

My feet refused to obey.

“Now!” He ordered again, shoving me forward, causing me to stumble to the floor.

My head swam as I attempted to stand. The men watched me with sadistic smirks plastered across their faces.

“Get up, wench.” He spat as he kicked me in the ribs. Pain shot through my body and I screamed as I doubled over, clutching my ribs. His foot connected with my ribs once more and I felt the pain burning through me, but there was nothing I could do about it.

“That’s enough, Cal!” It was Damien’s voice.

Cal looked at Damien and then back at me, glaring with disdain before he turned and left the cellar. Damien walked over to me. The next thing I knew, I was being lifted up and tossed over his shoulder. I yelped in pain as his shoulder dug into my emaciated stomach. I struggled, trying to kick him, but it did nothing.

“Where are we going?” I asked, defeated.

“You will find out soon enough,” he answered.

He carried me from the cellar into a long corridor, then up a flight of stairs, before stopping in front of another large steel door. Damien placed me down before walking back towards where Cal stood waiting for him. I watched as they went back and forth, talking, and arguing, but I didn’t pay attention. I was busy scanning my surroundings. Everything was dark except for a few lights that lined the edges of the ceiling. It appears as though we are in some sort of bunker.

A few moments later, Damien turned his attention back to me. He was pleased to see I was still sitting in the same spot he left me. He knocked on the door signaling someone on the other side, and a few seconds later the door slid open.

The light of the sun filled the corridor, and I could feel a warm breeze blow across my face. Sensations I thought I would never feel again, to feel them one more time, even if my death was imminent. Despite my situation, a smile spread across my lips. Am I feeling joy? This sensation felt so strange and out of place, almost like I was betraying myself.

Damien pulled me to my feet again. He didn’t toss me over his shoulder, but instead used his body to steady me while pulling me along, as I stumbled on weak legs. On the other side of the door was a wide field, the sunlight reflected off the green grass and my pale skin. To my right, I spotted a group of men standing near some large wooden crates covered in tarps. I noticed a couple of empty crates still scattered about. A single large cargo truck sat idling nearby.

“Come on,” Damien ordered with frustration as he pulled me along toward one of the crates.

As we drew closer, I realized they weren’t crates at all, but cages. They appeared like wooden crates on the outside, but the inside was lined with thick metal bars. As we approached the opening, I saw three figures inside. They were all huddled together; a boy and two girls. They were skinny, bruised, and dirty. All three looked terrified. They held onto each other, trembling, hugging each other tightly.

“In you go,” Damien ordered, pushing me forward. I stumbled into the cage, falling at the feet of the other three inhabitants. The boy stepped forward, helping me back to my feet.

“Boss, this one’s full,” Damien called out to someone while slapping the side of the crate a few times.

Then a man came into view. A pair of familiar eyes. Eyes I would never forget. I am filled with fear and hatred all at the same time. I could feel my stomach clench, and bile rose up my throat. I fought to swallow, desperately trying to control the emotions raging within.

I took in more of his appearance. He was an older gentleman, his face leathery and wrinkled with age. He wore a pair of worn-out jeans and a plaid button-up shirt. If you had seen him in any other circumstances, you would think he was just a kind old man. I knew better though, and his eyes told a different story. You could see evil there, in his eyes.

“You,” I hissed out under my breath.

Those eyes were the last thing I saw before Boss closed the crate, padlocking it from the outside.