The Five [ON HOLD]

˚CHAPTER TWO˚

The first thing that Marcus felt when he came back to consciousness was freezing cold and limbs of stone. Next, there was a slight pain, trailing up his muscles and after that, his entire body was dominated by an unpleasant buzz that faded every few minutes but always rose back with a new vigor. Then there was a throbbing headache and slight ringing in his ears. The whole horrible feeling was obviously from whatever his kidnappers had given him to knock him cold.

Once Marcus had finally decided to force his stone-like muscles to rise up and sit, he also thought it smart to look around his new prison. It only took him a few glances to fully explore the little, bland room that he had awoken in. One glance at the gentle gray walls. A glance at the boring wooden floor. A quick look at the brilliant fluorescent light fixture above and one last glimpse at the white, interior door to his left. It was simple, small, dull, and offered no type of entertainment whatsoever.

Eventually, he settled his head against a wall and folded his arms in hopes of getting rid of the chills dancing on his skin. He then began to wonder if his twin was in the same state he was in. What kind of state was he in any way?

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After her ears stopped ringing and the pain in her head ceased, Chrissy drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, lifting her eyes up to the solid colored wall in front of her and staring at it with a blank expression. She was truly deep in thought, staring at the bland wall and wandering around a maze of ideas in her mind.

Where was she? How did she get here in this room? What had happened to Scarlett? Was this why her cousin was acting odd last night? Did she somehow sense it coming? How come Chrissy didn't feel it? How come she was so blind to this crazy occurrence?

She shook her head and cast her eyes down to the ground, wishing she had an idea of what was going on. She feared the worst. Was this a joke? Had she been kidnapped? Was she going to die?

Tears welled up in Chrissy's eyes. She felt a few of them trail down her cheeks, so she took the sleeve of the sweatshirt that she had somehow dawned between last night and that moment and she wiped the salty tears from her skin.

One of the first things she'd noticed when she opened her eyes beside the pain and discomfort was her clothing change. She was no longer wearing her comfy, warm pajamas but instead gray sweatpants, a gray sweatshirt and black Tom like shoes. She dreaded to think of the fact that someone besides herself had dressed her in those clothes. She was thankful for the sweatshirt, however, because it helped ease the effect of the cool air of the little room.

She buried her face in her knees, and thought, I hope Scarlett is okay. I hope she's not here.

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A loud bang rang out in the room, and Martinus momentarily shrunk back at the pain it brought to his currently sensitive ears. He then shook his hand out, trying to ease the pain of punching the wall. He pressed his ear to the wall, closing his eyes and listening intently. But to his dismay, there was no noise. He sighed and drew away from the wall once more.

The Norwegian was trying with all his might to find a way out of the small, maddeningly quiet room, but to no avail. He instead began to walk around the small room, running his fingers along the walls in search of a crack or crevice that could aid in his escape.

The first thing he had tried as soon as he shook off most of the ugly symptoms from waking, was opening the little white door to his left. He also tried breaking down the door and even unhinging it, but none of it worked. It was as if the door was just as solid as the walls.