The Ace

Chapter 8 - A Crazy Kind of Calm

Before slowly opening my eyes to nothing but darkness, I felt an intense throbbing sensation throughout my entire head and my mouth was so dry that my tongue practically stuck to my palate. My eyes were slowly adjusting to my surroundings and eventually, I was able to see the details of the room I was in. 

It was vaguely furnished; there was a simple wooden nightstand next to me with a lamp sitting on top, and across the room, I could see a dresser with a rectangle-shaped mirror hanging on the wall above it. On either side of the dresser, there were two walk-in closets that were empty. The window on the wall wasn't covered by curtains and a stream of moonlight made its way in, creating a gentle silver glow. 

The memory of the events that ultimately led me here dawned on me and, surprisingly, I remained calm; I wasn't sure if it was the remaining alcohol lingering in my system that was the cause of my calmness or the faint smell of lavender that surrounded me but I knew that I should've been panicking. I couldn't bring myself to scream or claw my way out, instead, I found myself staring into space. 

I'm sure if anybody were to see me in such a state, especially after the events of last night (unless I've been out cold for longer I thought), they would think I was either crazy or drugged. Truthfully, I couldn't exactly put my finger on why I wasn't breaking out into a chaotic frenzy while screaming at the top of my lungs, but it was safe to say that I somewhat expected this. 

I didn't think I would get abducted out of my own apartment, but considering I had that constant feeling that made my stomach do flips all the time, a part of me may have seen this coming. That same part of me is why I've almost come to acceptance with my fate. 

I noticed that I wasn't chained down to the bed. I was able to move, and if I really wanted to, I was sure that I would've been able to attempt an escape. I didn't care to, though. I felt mentally weak for feeling that way, for giving in without as much as a fight, but I knew that whoever took me, took me for a reason and whatever plans they had for me would only get worse if I got caught trying to break free from this place. With the physical state I was in, I knew that getting caught would be inevitable. 

If I was going to attempt an escape, I knew I had to wait a little bit longer to see what exactly I was dealing with before making any irrational decisions and potentially making things worse for myself, if that was even possible. 

Whoever these people were and whatever they wanted from me, they at least had the decency to give me a clean room and not chain me down like some sort of beast. I needed to come up with an appropriate plan and in order to do that, I needed to analyze my captors. To analyze my captors meant to calculate what sort of consequences I would be facing in getting caught trying to do anything they wouldn't want me to do.

I felt psychotic, truly, but if I wanted a way out without potentially getting my face bashed in, I needed to play it smart and safe rather than impulsively. 

Hours may have gone by while I remained in my thoughts and I couldn't help but focus on the fact that I was unbelievably parched. 

I began to hear muffled voices from the other side of the door, and from how distant they sounded, I knew they were far from the room I was in. As their voices became louder, my heart rate spiked tremendously; I could tell that the people were having an intense conversation - almost an argument - but I couldn't make out a word they were saying. 

My eyes were wide and I was holding my breath, hoping to identify a single word they were saying. 

When I noticed the argument slow down, I started to hear a set of footsteps get closer to the door and I finally felt a panic rush throughout my body. Although I was terrified, I was grateful to finally feel what I should've felt the second I opened my eyes and realized I had been kidnapped.