Page 28 of The Souls Harvest
It was not a nightmare, that much I know. And that my back hurts like hell from having spent too much time—hours?—on a hard, cold surface.
Is it still nighttime?
No, wait…Shit!
I’m blindfolded. My fingers throb painfully, to the point I fear my skin will soon burst open because something is constricting my blood from flowing as it should. At least, whoever’s dumped me here didn’t think I could cause much trouble with just my voice, and they left my mouth uncovered.
“Hello? Anybody there? Where am I? Galen?!” I didn’t know I could reach such a high pitch of desperation.
Let’s focus, let’s take a metaphorical step back. Dinner—Galen and I were having dinner, and I got…Drunk?I don’t remember having more than one or two glasses.
“Oh, shit, did I throw up on Galen’s expensive shoes…” My voice rolls out of my mouth and lingers somewhere in front of me before fading away.
My brain’s a ball of fog where memories stretch like hot cheese, pulled between my need for reassurance that I’m not about to die alone, in some stranger’s basement, and the uncomfortable feeling that I’m right where I should be.
“What the fuck is going on?” I shout, but yelling into an (empty?) room doesn’t improve my current situation, as nobody replies.
Fine. Let’s try a more direct approach.
“You…kidnapped the wrong person.”Oh, please, don’t say I’m the right person.
Still no answer. I sway my legs left and right to test the space surrounding me and to see if my kidnapper decides to make themselves known by stopping my pathetic attempt to break free. But all I can hear is a low, constant humming of electricity and crackling sounds, suppressing indistinct voices, words that don’t make sense, like a TV screen with a bad signal.
Exhausted and achy, I lean back until my head finds a wall.Shit—if I were at least able to free my hands.
I touch my fingers to the hard surface behind me, scouting for a rough patch, a nail, or anything I could use to cut whatever is around my wrists, but it all feels like a solid, perfectly smooth piece of stone.
Back to square one, then.
“Hey, is this your big plan? To keep me in a room and watch me slowly rot away? That’s some disgusting kink you have.” I expel all the air in my lungs. Well, if this wasn’t the plan before, I may have just fucked up grandly by proving I’m not the smartest bargainingchip but a very deafening, disposable one.
I drop my head, focusing on the steady sound of my breath, and bend my right knee in an attempt to get up, using the wall for support—but my legs are heavy as trunks and pull me back down.
Reset.
Why am I here?“If I could only use this wall to pull me up…”
Reset.
Galen always says that when in doubt, I just need to breathe and let go.
Breathe…let go…Nope!
Someone’s watching me. It’s like an invisible finger tracing a line along my forehead and down the side of my face, making the little hairs on my neck stand up.
I shake my head and wiggle my fingers, eager to find a clearer perspective of what’s happening to me. A flashback of Galen and me sitting at the restaurant fires in my head, along with a single word—squads.
I know what I have to do.
I have to provoke whoever is enjoying my display of confusion. “Do you like watching your victims while they go crazy, eh? Nice touch, veryvillanesqueof you. I see, I see—you like to remain secretive… ”
Squads.
“Hang on, am I here because I mentioned to Galen about the recycling squ— ”
What was I about to say?It was just one word, but it got stuckbetween my throat and lips, and I can no longer remember it.
Galen’s face floats behind my eyes. He’s not with me; had he been here, he would have said something already. If only a joke to cheer me up, no matter the danger of our position.
