Chapter 1

         I woke up in a dark room, laying on what felt like a thin sheet and concrete floor.My ribs are protesting from the violent way my body is shaking. I can't tell which is making me shake harder; the fear I felt or the extreme cold. The pain causes me to think about the rest of my body.

An examination of my body finds that my lips are busted, my knees are cut, bruises are on my palms and my throat feels like I swallowed glass. There is crusted blood in my hair and on almost every inch on my body.

I have a nasty chemical taste in my mouth, causing me to gag every few seconds. Probably the most startling revelation is that I can't remember who I am, where I am, how I came to be here, or why I have blood all over me.

Panic starts to rise as I frantically  try to remember. But the harder I push, the more my head starts to pound. Great! I don't need any other problems.

I count to thirty, trying to control my breathing. Maybe if I can calm down enough, I can concentrate and figure out my situation better. Even after my breathing relaxes, I still can't remember anything. Maybe I'll wake up and this will just be one big nightmare.

My sleep is restless  with violent dreams. I instantly forget what I was dreaming the second my eyes open. I'm still in the same room.

Disappointed floods me along with fear. I still have no memory of why I am here or who I am. The tears I refused to cry earlier, start flowing. There is no stopping them now. I cry, for what feels like hours, until my throat reminds me of my dire situation.

Looking around me, I notice a small glass of water sitting beside my "bed". My heart races as I scan the room. I didn't hear or see anyone enter the room. I didn't even hear a door open.

The room is too dark for my swollen eyes. I stare at the glass of water, trying to discover whether or not it was safe to drink the water. Could it be poisoned? I sniff the glass but don't smell anything unusual so I put it to my lips slowly.

When the glass feeling increases, as the water flows down my throat, I start choking. Being too thirsty for anything else, I finish the water regardless of the pain.

After waiting for a while, for something to happen that didn't, I work on remembering who I am. I don't even remember how old I am, when my birthday is, or if I even have any family. I guessed that I am around twenty one but that was about it. I have to face the facts.

There is no point in forcing myself to remember.It is time to get serious. I need to figure out where I am and how to get out. Staying here and feeling sorry for myself  is not going to help. Exhaustion keeps me from being able to think of anything so I lay my head down to think. Before I know it, I fall asleep.

I don't know how long I was asleep but I wake up stiff and sore from the cold hard floor. Little streams of light seems to be coming through the cracks in the wall.

Finally, something good happening for a change. I use this time to examine the room.  It's a large square room that looks like it was made in the 1400's. There are no windows and only one door. From the little light that filters through, I can see that the ceiling is unreachable. No change for a rescue then. If I even have somebody looking for me, that is. Now my mind starts panicking and racing.

It takes a while but, as my mind calms down and my heart slows, I notice something; something that will forever haunt my dreams. It looks like a huge table made out of wood. What catches my eyes are the ropes attached to it.

I follow the lines of rope  to what looks like large, reinforced, hooks.  There are wrist and ankle manacles lying loosely on the table. I can no longer hold in my panic.

I slam myself into the wall behind me to get as far away as possible from what I was now calling the "death trap".  I examine my wrists and ankles to be sure that I hadn't been on it. There are no marks on of my ankles or wrists. I sigh with relief and sag onto the floor, concentrating on slowing my breathing. 

My mind is racing and trying to find out what is happening. There is nothing in this room to tell me what has happened to me. It's time to start a plan. First I need to find where to use the restroom. In the corner of the room, at the other end of the room, across from where my bed lay is a hole. I assume this is the hole that I need to use. Well, there goes pride! I hope I find my way out of here.

The small trip to the hole cut open some of the wounds. I wrap the sheet, that I had been lying on, to stop the small amounts of blood beginning to pool at my hands. WIth my wounds tended, and my body relieve, I resume my exploration of the room I'm in. I'm hoping anything that I see will jar my memories.

The large table in the room is blocking my view of the other side of the room. For some morbid reason, I want to know if I am the only person in the room. If I'm not, could they still be asleep? I would yell, or even say "hello", but my throat is worse and I don't trust my voice. Plus, there is the little thought that whoever put me in here would hear me. Maybe that is why no one has said anything, if they are here.

I crawl around the table, hoping that I am not the only one, feeling selfish for hoping I'm not alone. I desparately need the company. I haven't heard anyone else but I also know that I've been unconscious most of the time. It is possible that they are unconcious as well, I tell myself. 

The floor is sticky and the smell is so horrid that I have to control my breathing in order to not throw up the bile rising in my throat. I hold my shirt up to my nose but it's not helping much because it smells like blood and filth.

I finally make it around the table and freeze, stuffing my fists in my mouth to cover the scream threatening to escape. I went looking for someone to be with me and I have indeed found someone in the room with me.

What I see is not something I was expecting. Not really, and not like this. Now I wish that I had just stayed in my corner. I'm not prepared to face what I see. My body trembles and I can not control the sobs wracking my body.

What is lying on the other side of the "death trap" is a body. A body so mutilated that you can't tell if it is a woman or a man. There are no clothes on the armles, and legless, body. The gashes are so deep that you can see the bits of bones underneath.

The sternum is clearly seen, the ribcage sticks out, and you can see the organ hidden underneath the right side of the ribcage. I am unable to keep the bile inside. I lose all the water that I had just finished and then some.

When I get my body under control, for some reason, I find the need to find the arms and legs. I need to know if it was from the "death trap" or if the wounds are from somewhere else. I secretly know that answer to that question but denial is my best friend at the moment.

Just seeing the blood around the table, and the room, is enough to confirm it. Without thinking, I crawl around the room.

When I find them, I can no longer deny to myself that the table in front of me was not the reason for this person's death. I no longer know if the blood soaking my clothes is my own, or if I was a witness to this horrific death. I still can not remember anything about my situation. I crawl back to my bed and close my eyes, crying myself to sleep.