Trapped

Steph opens her eyes. She has no idea where she is. She flinches as she regains consciousness. How long was I out for? She looks around as her eyes adjust to the nearly pitch dark room. She lies against a wall, in the corner. The room seems to be small and empty, though she can’t be sure because of the dark. A tiny window near the opposite corner from her lets in just the tiniest bit of moonlight. The floor beneath her is definitely hardwood. She can tell by the way it feels. There is a dankness present that sends a chill up her spine.

The last thing Steph remember is it being morning and her leaving her apartment. She just graduated from university and was on her way to her first day at her first professional job. Her mind races as she tries to remember what happened, but she can’t. She tries to sit up and quickly realizes her hands are bound in front of her with a thick piece of rope. She tries to cry out but a guttural noise is the only sound she can produce.

After a few attempts she manages to roll herself into a seated position. She glance down at herself, realizing she’s pretty dirty. Way too much dirt for what could possibly present on the floor. She can barely see but she definitely feels gross. Panic suddenly sets in. She flails as she tries to get her hands out of her binds. Noises escape her throat as she begins to cry. She’s still unable to produce words let alone screams.

THUD.

A loud sound echoes from the other side of the door that she can barely make out. Steph stops crying. She scoots forward toward the door, staring at it. No light comes from underneath. She breathes heavily. “H-h-hello?” She stutters, words finally escaping her lips.

It’s met with silence, but she waits, still hopeful.

“Hello! Somebody help me!” Steph yells. She’s activated and can finally scream. She struggles to get to her knees, wincing in pain as she does. She hasn’t noticed pain until now. It’s present all along her arms and legs, even her face. She wonders if she was beaten, still unable to remember.

BANG.

Steph freezes, her body as straight as possible. It comes from outside the door again. She opens her mouth to call for help but stops herself. She glances around the room – it seems slightly small than before.

PLOP.

Something drops from the ceiling and lands on Steph’s head. Her eyes grow wide as she feels it crawling down her forehead. Steph tightens her lips together, trying not to scream as a massive spider takes its time crossing her face. The spider finally makes its way to her shoulder before jumping to the floor. Steph’s breathing becomes laboured as she watches the spider scurry away. A loud, fearful whimper escapes her lips, her breathing slowing down just a little. Steph glances around the room again, her eyes quickly focusing on the slit of a window. She shuffles over to the wall below it and jumps up, trying to get a peek out of it. She jumps again, not having seen anything the first time. She gets a bit more height. You can do this, she tells herself. A shadow passes the window as she get enough air to see out of it.

Steph stumbles back and hits the ground. What was that? “Is someone out there?!” Steph yells. She crawls back a bit, but stays in the light coming from the window. A shadow darts past her, through the light… in the room. Steph can’t even think a thought. She scampers back more, out of the light. The shadow crosses the light again, the other way, and closer to her than before.

Steph crawls over to the wall. She presses her back against it and closes her eyes as panic sets in again. She lets out long breath she’s been holding. “One… Two… Three… Four…” Steph mumbles the words, almost inaudibly to herself, using a relaxation technique she learned in therapy a few years ago.

Scratch. It’s long and drawn-out, like finger-nails scratching a chalkboard. Steph is startled and she opens her eyes, the room growing smaller again. Scratch. This time it’s closer. Steph shares at the wall with the window in it. Is that where it came from?

Scratch. This time it comes from above her. Louder and longer than before. Steph launches herself forward, away from the wall. She moves a little too fast though, nearly hitting the other wall in front of her. She pauses, catching her breath. Steph waits and listens.

Drip. A faint noise of water dripping is all she can hear. Has it been there the whole time? She feels disoriented still, so it’s possible. Steph continues to wait, motionless. She listens, breathes. Listens, breathes. Slowly Steph pries herself off the floor. First to her knees, then to her feet. She looks down at her bound hands. She needs to get out, but how?

“Steph,” a voice calls, drawing out her name ever too long. The voice sounds like Steph’s voice but an octave lower and nearly inaudible. Steph looks around the room. She is still alone. “Steph. Over here,” the voice calls out again, a little louder. Steph walks around the room, trying to figure out where it’s coming from. “No here,” the voice tells her, but now it high, a full octave above Steph’s normal voice.

The room starts to close in, becoming smaller. At least it feels that way to Steph. Something small sticking out of the opposite wall catches Steph’s eye. She darts over to it. It’s a nail, and it sticks out far enough that Steph realizes she may be able to use it. “What are you doing, Steph?” the voice asks, in the low octave again. Steph ignores the voice. It can’t be real. It must be in my head. Steph raises her hands above the nail and starts to rub the rope against it. It’s tedious and takes nearly a minute to start to work. But it does work. “That won’t help,” the voice proclaims in the high octave.

Steph glances behind her, continuing to try to break free from her bounds. The room is half the size it originally was as it continues to close in on her. She looks back down at her hands and realizes she is almost free.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

SCRATCH. SCRATCH. SCRATCH.

The noises are louder than before. They repeat in a continuous pattern, growing in intensity. A multitude of spiders crawl along the wall above Steph. She tries to ignore them. A shadow darts across the light again, still inside the room. “Steph,” the voice drawls on in the low octave.

Steph’s bounds break and her hands are free. She stares at them momentarily, in complete disbelief.

Suddenly the room is completely silent. Steph runs to the door. She tries the handle. It won’t budge. What did you except? She asks herself. She pulls on it harder. Then again, yanking as hard as she can. Nothing seems to work. She raises her hand and bangs on the door.

Something different cuts through the silent room. Children’s laughter. It’s faint and it sounds almost like giggling. Steph stops her hands mid swing. She presses her ear against the door. There it is again! Laughter. And slightly louder this time. In desperate Steph calls out, “Please help me!”

BANG. The door swings open, causing Steph to stumble forward. In a moment of panic, Steph scrambles to her feet and tries to turn around. But nothing is there. Steph takes a step out, into more darkness.

SLAM. The door shuts behind her.