VAIN | Inside the Universe

Chapter Thirty One • Tender Torture

U N K N O W N

It has been ten minutes and twenty-seven seconds since my consciousness found me again, and no one has yet to say a word. Usually, at this point in the abduction, someone decides to start up a conversation to pass time. If they're impatient, they might get creative in the ways they try to wake me up themselves.

No matter the choice, I tend to get the most important pieces of information before the interrogation even starts. They almost always let something slip in casual conversation when they think I'm not listening, or they fight amongst each other in fits of their own languor and do most of the work for me. But these people, whoever they are, may be the most boring sons of bitches I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. I can't use anything against mutes when my eyes are closed.

Their feet shift rather frequently, letting me distinguish at least four people at close proximity to where I am chained. Though, I'm not sure chained is the right word. I'm suspended off the ground, wrists bound above my head with some kind of flexible metal, but it's no material I could recognize.

Because I don't know any better, I'd say the wall behind me is almost damp - the kind one would find in an underground cave near a large pool of water. Yet the slight vapor in the air tastes faintly metallic like this place was birthed then doused in blood, knowing no other. That's a new one for me. Quite intriguing, actually.

Focus.

It's dark on the other side of my eyes, except for a little gleam of light just above me. That means I'm possibly underground. The cave-like atmosphere means no electrical wiring. No potential to spark a current with the natural moisture. No other draft means no side exits, echos mean depth and most likely a great distance to the main entrance—

God, do they not even like each other? Why are they just waiting? No one really takes their jobs this seriously.

I could feel eyes on me, doing no more than stare. Yet there was the unsettling feeling that even though they were still, they were far from mindless. Perhaps they couldn't afford to be so careless. Maybe they knew me better than I thought, or maybe their higher up whipped them into submission with just one look at the amount he would pay them. How much is the price for my head nowadays?

With the aches in my shoulders and calves, it's safe to assume I was carried for quite a while, and not necessarily with sweet, tender care.

My pants were torn, still intact, but it was a bit too cold in the upper region to say the same about my shirt. My chest was still covered at least with a bra that is way too pretty for an event like this. If I don't get at least one compliment on it before I kill them all, this would be a complete waste of time.

But the most interesting part is the faint, ghost feeling of their hands still on me. Those hands were foreign beyond any country I've ever been taken a hostage in. And not to brag, but I felt the sweet, dire, and ruthless grips of almost all of them.

These weren't foreign. They were alien.

Now curiosity was just getting the best of me. I can't help it. This was fascinating. Enough to risk meeting death in the face.

And to find out what they want, of course.

Ergo, not without a sigh, I open my eyes. "I guess I'll start."

A fist comes flying across my face not a second later, successfully knocking me disoriented. Here I thought they were patient.

I spit out a mouthful of blood and take my time in rolling my head back to the four, no five  damn I'm losing my touch - blurry, shadowy figures. "Well okay. Let's get right to the point then."