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Chapter 3
CHRISTY
Iawake with a start. Shivers wrack my body as I blink through the heavy fog of sleep and my eyes try to find a source of light in what otherwise seems like the pitch black of night. Drawing on all my senses, I notice three things at once.
It’s cold.
There’s a lingering smell of dampness and mildew.
And I’m chained to a wall.
Chained.
To.
A.
Wall.
“No! No! NO!” I shout, everything coming back to me in a rush as I remember what happened.
I’ve been kidnapped. Captured.Stolen.
They took me from the people I love. They drugged me. They’ve chained me up.
“NO!” My voice is hoarse. My throat is dry. My tongue, swollen and heavy. A thumping, pounding headache takes a hold of me and I groan. Lifting a shaking hand, I rub the pad of my fingers over my temple to try and ease the pain. Even that movement takes immense effort, given the manacles attached to both of my wrists and the chink, chink, chink of the heavy metal chain crashing like thunderclaps inside my head.
Dropping my hand, I give up on trying to rub away the pain. A tear slides down my cheek and my tongue automatically seeks it out as I desperately try to quench my thirst.
I’m so thirsty. How long have I been here? I remember nothing after Konrad injected me.
Crying is the last thing I want to do, and even though I might’ve already known my fate, had forewarning, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared. Knowing what’s coming and living it are two very different things.
A scream builds in my throat, but I swallow it down, forcing myself to breathe, to concentrate on what I know right here in this moment. Blinking back more tears threatening to fall, I draw in several calming breaths. The lingering lightheadedness from the drug The Masks had given me begins to ease as I regulate my jittering pulse. It still thumps, but loses its erratic beat the more I force precious oxygen into my lungs.
It’s imperative that I stay calm. Iknowthis. So, just like I’ve trained myself to do after every vision, I ground myself in the moment. It doesn’t matter if this moment is one filled with uncertainties, with dread and anxiety. All that matters is my need to calm the well of fear inside, and not let it take hold.
“Just breathe,” I tell myself.
Pressing my back against the cold, damp wall, I draw my bare feet up, the heavy chains I’m wearing scraping across the concrete floor, chinking as I move. The sound is harsh and obtrusive in this otherwise silent room.Room? Who am I trying to kid? This is aprison, I see that now as the tiniest amount of light penetrates beneath what looks to be an iron door. I stare at that strip of light, focusing on it and what it reveals.
A stone cell. No bigger than ten feet square.
This is my fate.
This room.
These men.
The Masks.
Konrad. Leon. Jakub.
I’ve looked into the eyes of two of them, and heard the voice of the third, and I’m no better off knowing who they are, apart from the fact they believe Roger killed their father on Kate’s orders or rather their alter egos did. Beast and Grim are feared and respected in equal measure by many.
Except by these men.
Taking me is their revenge.
