Never Come Out

Chapter 1

Darkness. That's all that I could see. It was pitch black and cold where I was, wherever I was. No matter how hard I thought, I remembered nothing. Not a single thing about my past. About me, even my name. A sharp pain made my head flare, causing me to have a headache. What, am I not aloud to remember anything? Looks like it.

I jumped as a loud clanking noise reverted off the walls, but there wasn't another sound after that. Only my breathing was to be heard. I slowly stood up after a minute or two, reaching my hands to feel around, hoping to grab something - anything, to defend myself with or even just to hold on too, just for reassurance.

I walked forward, touching a couple of wooden things that I assumed were the walls. I reached a halt when I felt my hands touch something cool and hard. It was like metal. I traced my fingers along the bumpy metal, the little tiny bumps pressing against my hand. I found it weird that there was a bunch of wooden walls and one metal walls.

I yelped in terror as the metal sound was heard again, and this time it was repeated. I felt the ground below me struggle to go upwards, dropping and lifting me a few times making me bounce up and down before it vibrated upwards, causing me to stumble and fall over. The force was so fast and so strong, I couldn't stand up. I was being thrown across the room from the force, banging every part of my body. Surely I was going to have a few bruises.

I screamed at the top of my lungs as something slashed my arm, the other snatching whatever had cut me out of instinct, only to grab some sort of handle. I used my other, very much bleeding and injured arm to examine the top. I only had enough time to make out it was a knife before I went tumbling back across the room.

"I swear, it's like someone is forcing this dammed room to rock back and forth," I mumbled under my breath. Well, at least I found out I am British. That sure is a start. I didn't bother screaming for help, there couldn't have been anyone to help me anyways.

I cried out in pain when my injured arm slammed against something as I was thrown across the room again. The room - no, this isn't a room, rooms don't move. The metal thing moved upwards much faster, almost knocking the breath out of me. My legs and back were pressed against the floor, my knuckles cracking as I squeezed the knife harder. I closed my eyes, bracing for the worst until. . .

The metal thing stopped. It just stopped.

I scrambled to my feet, light pouring through the roof. As quick as possible, I ran behind some crates. They must have been what I thought were walls earlier. Makes sense. I held my knife closer to my body as I peaked to see a tall, dark haired boy with strange eyebrows lift up the top of the metal thing and jump down. I immediately twirled back behind the crates, pressing my back up against them as I heard footsteps approach closer.

"What do you see, Gally?" I heard an accented voice, which I assumed was British, asked.

"Looks like there's no Greenie this time, just supplies," Gally called back.

"What?" I heard a voice ask.

"How come?"

"Are you serious?"

"Is this bad?"

A lot of people asked several questions, but what freaked me out was that I didn't once hear a feminine voice. What the fuck? Haha, looks like I'm a cusser.

"Alright, shanks, slim it!" A voice I hadn't heard yet yelled. Everyone immediately shut up. "I don't know why there isn't a Greenie any more that you guys do, so everyone shut your yaps, and go back to work!"

I heard a few grumbling protests, but soon the sound of footsteps walking away filled my ears.

"Well, I'm going to get the supplies outa here," Gally said. I him approach closer to my hiding spot, and I started to shake in fear. I gripped the handle tighter, if that was even possible. I took a deep breath, in and out, my heart thumping in my chest.