Struck

Taken

I opened my eyes to the pitch black room, even with my enhanced sight only capable of seeing outlines of objects. I could see chains in a pile against the wall and bars not too far away, separating me from the rest of the room. The cuffs around my wrist weighed my arms down and attached to a chain in the wall. I drug the metal across the floor and felt the rough, thick rope around my ankles. It was tied in a knot in the front. I tried desperately to undo the loops but the only outcome was the blisters covering my fingers.

I sighed, throwing my head back in exasperation. My breathing sounded so loud in the empty cell, like an ever present reminder that I was suppose to die from that lightening strike. If I'd only just stayed human, I wouldn't have to know about any of this. I wouldn't have to stress over who I need to trust and who I need to keep my eyes on or whether or not my death would be alone in a empty, barred room with little recollections of my family and friends.

I snapped my head up as a hiss came from the other side of the bars. A light shined on my hand, "That looks painful."

I glared up at him, "Not as painful as getting whacked on the head with a gun by someone who was supposed to have died."

"Yeah, sorry about that." He directed the flashlight at my face now, and I had to squint into it to get a look at his face.

"Why aren't you dead?" I snapped, growing impatient. "I saw you die, yet here you are, and on the wrong side, might I add." I looked over Michael, not seeing the wise, caring guy that saved my life anymore.

Michael wrapped his hand around one of the bars and leaned against them, his shoulders shrugging slightly. "I guess it just wasn't my time to go."

"But you did go! You were dead, with a hole in you!" I yelled, my frustration beginning to get the best of me. The hairs on my neck rose with the static in the air surrounding me.

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were, I saw you!"

"The shot didn't kill me. I healed, and now here I am." Michael said, grinning from head to toe, his once soft eyes now sharp and piercing.

"But--"

"Look, I'm glad you want to catch up, but I'm not here to chat. Get up, I have orders to follow." He unlocked the door with one of the keys jangling at his side and opened it wide, waiting for me to walk through.

"It'd help if you took these chains off me, since they're kind of attached to the wall." I dead panned, and watched as he walked over and took it all off. The heavy metal clanked on the cold concrete along with the ropes, giving me my first chance of escape. The only problem was I didn't know where I was, or how to get to where I was going-- Or where I was going, for that matter.

I got to my feet, massaging my soar wrists, and walked through the door. I stopped when I got into the long dimly lit hallway just long enough for him to get in front of me. In order to escape, I needed to know a way out of this place. After coming out a couple more times, their guards would be lower and I'd know my way around well enough to make it at least outside.

We walked in silence, the sound of our feet patting against the concrete reverberating off the walls. We got to a set of stairs going down, and I thought of pushing Michael and letting out a scream so people would think he slipped; but even if it did work, I couldn't kill him. He saved my life from Haden, when he had tried to kill me. I had to wait and make sure he really did choose the wrong side before deciding what to do about him. Who knew, maybe he was a double agent. Double Survivor? Whatever.

Michael stopped to knock on the large metal door in front of us, ignoring my stumbling around behind him. The ground wasn't smoothed out and had several cracks and pot holes in the pavement. I pushed against the cold stone wall to steady myself and waited until a large, muscular man opened the door. The way his mustache was fashioned and his skin was toned made him look like a Hitler replica. Despite my current situation, I had to resist from bursting into laughter.