Possessed Soul

Chapter 58

Chapter 58

As tempting as it was to keep my eyes closed and let the darkness engulf me, I forced myself to wake up; not for my sake but for Sage's. The room I was in was dark. It was so dark that I didn't even know whether my eyes were open or if I was still looking at the insides of my eyelids. I brought my hand up and poked my eye, until I was convinced I was awake. I blinked rapidly to try and adjust to the dark, but it was of no use. I couldn't see a damn thing.

"Where is she?" I screamed. I wasn't silly enough to believe that anyone would respond to me, but I knew that the FBI wasn't stupid enough to leave me alone. Someone had to be close by. I just had to find that someone; they just had to make a little noise...shuffle perhaps. I didn't know what I'd do when I located someone, but I was willing to work things out as I went along . Planning in advance had proven to be more grief than what it was worth.

I was met with a foreboding silence, so I screamed the same question again . And when that proved futile, I carried on screaming. Eventually I gave up on coherent words and instead just poured my lungs out. To my own ear, I sounded like a pathetic man in pain. I hoped that wasn't the case to the outside world and I hoped I was bothering someone, anyone, enough for them to come tell me to shut up.

My throat began to feel dry, but I refused to give up. It wasn't long before my yells turned to sobs and I was quietly whispering Sage's name, apologising for my inability to keep her safe. The guard's words rang in my head. Experiment on her. Torture her.

I felt my way around the walls, desperately trying to find a way out. I wasn't in a room, nor was I in a cell. I realised I was in a cage. I wasn't sure how to feel: proud that they had found me to be enough of a threat to put me in a steel cage instead of simply tying me to a chair, or deflated since there was no way out of here.

Blood was crusted on a large portion of my face, and it had dried, adding another layer to my skin, making it feel tight and itchy. There was a painful bump on the back of my head, just above my neck, but as soon I gingerly touched it, I pushed the pain to the back of my mind.

It wasn't long before a bit of light started streaming in through the bars of the cage. It wasn't much light, but I was at least able to see the size of the cage. I had a bit of leg room on either side of me and I could see that the lock was computer operated. There was a rancid, almost tangible smell around me, and I realised that the lock was smoking. A thin haze of white, cloudy air was making its way towards me. It wasn't the electricity that had short circuited, they were trying to poison me. The smoke drifted out through the gaps in the bars, but unsurprisingly there was a wall just outside of the cage that reflected the smell back to me. I pulled my sweater off over my head and pressed it to my nose, but even the thick material couldn't stop me from coughing and sputtering. I could feel my lungs slowly becoming heavy, and each breath was raspier than the last. I was dying. As a last attempt to free myself I latched onto the lock and pulled. I didn't expect this to do any good, but it did. The smoking mechanism came off in my hands. It didn't stop smoking, but I quickly cast it aside; under it were two wires that were stripped at the ends, revealing a narrow length of copper wire. I grabbed both wires and quickly pressed the exposed parts together. It sparked and sizzled, causing me to drop them, when I looked at my hands there were dark red spots on them. I had burnt myself, but it was worth it. The cage door opened with a click and swung outwards.

***

It took me a couple of seconds to get my bearings straight: the cage led to a hallway. I guess that was the most convenient, because anyone walking past could check on prisoners. There was no need for extra security. No guards needed to be stationed outside the cage.

The corridor was dimly lit, which added to the eerie feeling of the place. Doors lined the corridor on either side, but every time I peeked into one, it was either empty, or filled with some sort of medical equipment. Sometimes it was a cot, and sometimes it was a trolley covered with syringes of different shapes and sizes filled to the brim with various liquids. I was straining to hear Sage scream, hoping that would point me in the right direction. When I struggled to hear her voice, I didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. I tried to move as quickly as possible, but my head pounded uncontrollably, and I found I had to rest against the wall every now and then.