Then it hit her. She couldn't move her arms.
They were bound behind her back. Her eyes
ripped open and a spasm of fear knotted her
stomach as her veins filled with adrenaline.
Her neck was tender, she had been leaning
forward on it for some time and she winced as
she tried to move. A jolt of lightning shot
through her left shoulder. Agony! She
suddenly felt the need to vomit.

Her eyes peeled open through a gluey film and
slowly adjusted to the darkened room. Her
senses heightened with fear as she scanned
the area. She was in a basement; that was
immediately obvious. The grime-tortured
walls with the fake red brick minarets and
sooted window boards left an immediate
impression of impending doom. Strange little
symbols were inscribed in different colors
along one of the walls. Her thoughts were
muddy and she couldn't remember getting here.
That was the most frightening aspect of the
situation.

There was no furniture except for a row of
dusty televisions in the corner. There were
six in all and they were stacked in threes,
one on top of another. They were currently
turned on but the screens were full of static
fuzz. Oddly enough the sound was turned down.
The screens sent bizarre shadows racing
around the room like teeth.

In front of the televisions were a number of
circuit boards that were all wired together
like masses of multi-colored spaghetti
strands. The maze of wiring attached
everything together.

It was a weird looking assortment of
machinery that looked more like an experiment
gone wrong. The truly bizarre thing about it
was that the wires were all hooked into a
small black box that sat apart from the rest.
From the black box emerged two wires, one red
and one black. They were attached to a
mannequin's plastic hand that held some sort
of writing utensil in its grip. The hand was
spiked on a rusted metal stand that pivoted
back and forth. It was set in front of a
drawing board with writing paper on it.
There were paragraphs of scribbled writing
flowing over the back of the board and strewn
across the floor. Currently everything was
silent and immobile.

She was not well. Her stomach was in knots
from hunger and the feeling seemed to worsen
as time went on. The last thing she could
remember was the real estate man at the pub.
What was his name? Her head hurt as she
tried to conjure the name of the cute,
soft-spoken, land developer who had bought
her a drink.

"Oh my God!" As the realization dawned on
her, a chill raked her spine. The world had
gone wobbly and faded moments after that
drink. A vision of fire and thunder and
then...darkness. Had she been knocked
unconscious? This was not happening, things
like this just didn't happen to Sarah Jane
Anderson!

Then she noticed the thick, rancid aroma
creeping into her nose. The faint stench
hadn't bothered her as her eyes adjusted to
the room but now it had begun to grow and
take on an entirely different significance.
It was soon overwhelming.

Sarah was able to move her neck with a creak
in her joints and looked down. On the front
of her skirt and down the inside of her leg
was a flaking white stain minced with dried
blood. She knew all too well what it was and
she began to cry uncontrollably.

Then she turned to her immediate right and
was shocked to find her underwear on the
floor a few feet away. A heap of aging human
feces was smothering them. She had never
been so emotionally disturbed by anything in
her life. She had been completely and
utterly violated, there was no doubt about
it. What was frightening was that she had no
recollection of anything. What kind of sick
human being would carry out such sadistic
behavior on an unconscious victim? The
implications were terrifying.

Sarah immediately scanned the room for any
signs of the monster who had committed the
atrocities upon her. Even as tears dribbled
down around the corners of her mouth the
foremost question on her mind was escape and
how she was going to survive this ordeal.

A flash of pain scorched her inner thigh as
she adjusted her position on the chair. Her
buttocks were numb and beginning to ache.
Her skin between her legs had been rubbed
rash raw. This was not happening! She kept
hoping that she could wake up from this
surreal landscape.

A final pool of tears began to collect in the
cradle of her right eye. Then the taste of
salt as the last tears touched her shaking
lips. The reality of the situation sank in.
She wasn't cold but she began to shake
violently.

Sometime later Sarah awoke from a deep
dreamless sleep. This time she wasn't
surprised as the same morbid room surrounded
her. A faint whimpering sound rose up from
the dead sound of the basement. She couldn't
tell where the voice was coming from but it
was personified despair. It sounded so
hollow and lost. It had to be female but she
wasn't sure if it was even human. There was
no way to tell. It soon died down and Sarah
could only find comfort in knowing that
whatever was making that sound could only be
in worse shape than she was.

Sarah suddenly lashed out and began to writhe
in the chair. She tried desperately to
wrench herself free. The agony in her wrist
became unbearable within minutes.

After some time she gave up. Throbbing
torturous pain wracked her arms. The pins
and needles were almost a relief as she
slumped back down in defeat.

She sat gathering her courage for another
bout. She would never give up. Never! With
renewed fervor she tried again. Shards of
pain darted up her arms as she tried to
struggle free. She tried again and again for
several excruciating minutes. A steel cable
had been looped around a set of handcuffs and
they tightly pinned her wrists behind her
back. Blood streamed down her arms as the
cuffs cut deeply into her skin. She was
terrified and willing to risk the pain. The
chair she was sitting on was bolted to the
floor and it wouldn't give as she tried to
rock back and forth.

"Good.... how wonderful of you to join us."
The voice made her skin crawl and her heart
stop. Her mind raced out of control. The
voice of the man was thick and raspy, like a
long time smoker. He came down the stairs
slowly as if to draw out the suspense. She
sat paralyzed with fear as her heart kicked
back into fifth gear and threatened to break
free from her chest.

He came down three steps from the top of the
stairs wearing a pair of socks that didn't
match. One was filthy and had holes in it.
The other was dark, possibly black or navy
blue. She was looking from behind and only
his calves could be seen part way through the
space. He had thick matted black hair
curling it's way up from the top of his
socks. A look of disgust marred her features
unconsciously as she thought about the mess
on the floor and the pain between her legs.
He didn't venture any further. She looked
away.

It was if she were inside a horror movie
worse than any she had seen. The only
difference would be in the ending. Movies
simply did not depict real life where happy
endings were few and far between.

The simple fact was, she was helpless. Sarah
Jane Anderson, Captain of the women's
basketball team, co-negotiator for her
University Electoral Board and President of
the Student Body Almanac could do nothing to
improve her situation. She had never felt
like this before. All of her worst nightmares
were swimming into reality from some other
dimension. Maybe she had died and gone
straight to hell. That thought quickly
dispersed. She had never done anything to
deserve this! She forced herself to look at
the top step but he was gone. Whoever he
was.

Later.

Hunger. It was gnawing at the inside of her
stomach like vultures tearing dead meat from
a carcass. It was unreal. The feeling came
in waves which was somewhat of a blessing.

Sarah had woken from a particularly bad
dream. A rabid dog had been chained behind
the cold room door in the basement. It was
feeding on the broken necks of trapped
children. The sound she kept hearing on and
off was their muffled cries for help. The
vision haunted her even as she adjusted to
being fully conscious again. Her back was
aching and her neck felt like brittle timber.
This had to end. She couldn't take just
sitting trapped in this chair much longer.
Madness lay like a snake in the weeds.

Reality. Not again! The creak of the
basement door. The soft shuffling footsteps
of someone coming down. "God bring me food,
please God let him feed me." Sarah's thought
permeated the still air as if by sheer will
she could control the actions of this monster
that'd kidnapped her.