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Trapped: Part 1

by Jauren Riloski 2 years ago in fiction
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"Let me out!"

An old dusty Library

When his eyes opened he was greeted by a dimly lit damp room. The ceiling decorated with an old decrepit fan that the man had no idea what its purpose was. Efforts to move his wrists and feet enlighten him to a tingling numb feeling that often comes from shackles that are too tight. Finding the effort to move futile he propped his head up to try to get a good look at the rest of the room. Two others were present. One to his right, and one to his left. At the foot of the bed a clipboard with some papers on it. Presumably at least. Towards the right an iron door and a dimply lit lantern that served as the rooms only light source. Gods, this room is depressing.

His right side being his dominant, he turns his head towards the individual chained to a bed there. He was an elderly man roughly in his 60s. Maybe a bit older. His breathing was shallow and he appeared to be close to expiring. To his left, a much younger man. Perhaps in his early 20s was also chained to a bed. He was looking at the one in the center. A small smile creeping on his face.

"Finally awake. Name's Jeb. That old lonely coot over there is numbers. Who are you?" Jeb's voice was light-hearted and optimistic. Confidence radiates from him despite the grim situation they find themselves in. My name? That's such an easy question. And yet... it escapes me.

"I am not sure. Where are we?" His own tone was a mix of deep concern and confusion. He glanced to his right to look at the one called 'Numbers.' "Why is he called numbers?"

As if to answer his question, numbers began spewing out a stream of meaningless numbers. There was no rhyme or reason for it, and he kept going for several minutes before falling silent. Returning to his dormant state accompanied by the closing of his tired eyelids. The nameless one returns his gaze to Jeb, shaking his head. Great, I am in an insane asylum.

Jebs lips curl into a smile. He turns on his side, showing he has a bit more slack in his bindings than the nameless one. "That's why. No one cares about him and he thinks going insane will get him some attention to help him live out his days." Jeb reaches for a glass of water perched on the nightstand and holds it out to the nameless one. Upon its acceptance, he retracts his hand and replaces it on the table. "You will need your strength. Try not to struggle too much."

I will need my strength? What the fuck is happening? The last thing I remember...

His thoughts are cut short when a wave of exhaustion washes over him. That water reminding his body just how deprived he was of basic nutrients. A groan slips from his lips as the darkness of sleep consumes him. His breathing slows, and he falls into a dreamless sleep. Sweat forming on his forehead as his mind finally comes to the conclusion that he just might be in trouble.


During the night, nameless heard voices within the room that was different from the two he had met a few hours earlier. His eyes opened to be met with a foggy haze and salty sweat pooling in quickly. Giving him a precious few seconds to gaze upon a slender female figure looking over him. Her features were indistinguishable other than the pristine white lab coat that hugged her hourglass form. She was studying the clipboard that previously hung at the foot of his bed, and she muttered a few incomprehensible words at noticing he was awake.

His mouth opened to speak, yet no words or sounds flowed. The dryness of his tongue painful and the shackles that held him in place tighter than before. The woman gripped his wrist before injecting him with some sort of liquid. His heart rate increased and his body began to thrash. Now now, you did this to yourself, remember? Where did those words come from, he thought to himself. The words were in a familiar male voice that he could not put his finger on in his exhausted state. His eyes drifted close once more, falling into a restless slumber.


The next time he woke up, his head snapped to the left. Then the right. Both of his roommates were still present. An audible sigh of relief flowed from his dried, chapped lips. At least... I am not alone. He thought, only to be answered with a; Soon you will be. The replying voice was similar to his own in tone, but it was deeper, older, and filled with hidden malice that takes years to cultivate. The room was colder than the day before. A welcome relief to stop his sweating. Water, I need water.

A glass was brought to his lips. Jeb, had gotten out of his bed and poured what little water was left down his throat. "Thanks." He croaks out as his head falls back into the pillow. Breathing jagged and body sore makes him appreciate any relief he can get in this horrible place.

"You got checked last night. Overheard that your vitals are good. Also said no one was looking for you. Which is weird. Wonder how they would know that."

No one is looking for me? That can't be right. I have lots of friends...

"Yep, seems like you are going to be stuck in here for a while. Especially if no one is interested." Jebs voice was amused but concerned. "You are so young... what, 26? Maybe thirty?" He chuckles and goes back to his bed. Why does he get to move around?

Numbers begins spouting off random strings of numbers again. His lips move rapidly and there was no end to it for fifteen minutes, or what felt like it. Then, silence. An unnerving silence that seeped into the very soul of the nameless one. He gently tugs on his shackles and quickly realizes that struggling was a futile effort. His eyes close once more, and he falls into a deep slumber.


About the author

Jauren Riloski

Hello Vocal! My name is Jauren, a recent graduate from college who is plagued by the burden of student debt. I have a passion for telling stories, and taking people on adventures that they will remember. Let's all tell stories together!

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