Isla

Ch.22 Stronghold

I woke up to the sound of water dripping from a pipe, much like when Ryder kidnapped me from the Farmhouse.

I opened my eyes and my vision swirled, causing me to let out a soft groan. I blinked furiously until my vision cleared, noticing that i was completely alone.

I sat in a slate colored room, against a rusting black pillar that I was tied against with chains. Pipes loomed overhead in a varying color palette of rusted reds, browns and silvers.

A small lamp, without a shade, rested in the opposite corner of the room. Providing me with some, but dim, light.

I glanced over my chained body, recognizing dust and dirt covering my clothes which had come to be decorated with multiple holes and rips. My hands stung from the cuts created by rock being exposed to the unsanitary environment.

I doubt they were even cleaned considering I could make out traces of old and fresh blood across the cement floor. That and the fact I had other open, uncleaned flesh wounds across my body.

How long had I been here? I wondered.

I tried pulling against the chains hoping that if not getting out, I'd at least get someone's attention. The rattling did nothing but annoy me and push the chains farther into my skin. I was still hungry.

Maybe hangry is the better word considering I just now realized that I will in no way be fed chick-fil-a, if i'm fed at all.

"Hello!" I yelled, becoming increasingly impatient and bored with being held hostage. "I said, hello!"

Still no one came to the door.

"If one of you bastards doesn't come and give me some damn chick-fil-a we are gonna have some problems!"

Silence.

Hours of fucking silence.

I'd given up the screaming, as it was now only starting to hurt my own throat. I'd sat there quietly, practically unmoving because my body had finally realized how run down it was. My sore muscles aches, my lips were cracked, and my open cuts stung.

I let my eye lids flutter close, finally accepting that sleep would pass the time quicker and was something my body desperately needed.

That's when I heard the door creek open.

A man, around what seemed to be nineteen stood in front of me. He adjusted my chain so my hands were now able to move.

I would have made a move on the spot if it wasn't for the paper plate in front of him.

Finally.

"This isn't chick-fil-a." I tried to joke, somewhat half heartedly, as I glanced at the bread and cheese in front of me. I tend to joke a lot when I'm stressed or nervous. He did not find it amusing.

He began to reach to take the plate back when I frantically yelled for him to leave it. I even added a please at the end, which is not something I tend to say when interacting with kidnappers.

He dropped the plate back down, and left before I could get another word in.

"Wait!" I shouted, but the door had already shut behind him.

I ate my bread in silence, not that I had much a choice. A petite lady had brought me water, but also turned down any plea of mine to know what was going on.

Eventually I lost track of time.

Of how long I had been in here.

Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, days turned into weeks. Still, no sign of anyone I knew. It was the same man and women. Everyday. No one else.

After what must have been two weeks, I heard a blood curtailing scream. From a voice I knew. Anthony.

I thrashed against my binds, in a desperate attempt to find him. Find anyone.

Four days passed and I heard no more screams. No noise at all. Food was brought with water, now only once a day, by the man.

I was growing weaker by the second. Months, years of training were slipping away. All because of one measly kidnapping.

Ok, well maybe not measly, considering I was still here.

Than I heard the footsteps. Tons of them, in the hall outside my door.

The key turned in the lock. And I came face to face with Adrian and multiple guards, holding Ryder as he struggled against their grip.