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CHAPTER1
I wokewith my head feeling like it was about to crumble into pieces. Like something had cleaved it in half, splitting me into two parts. Part of me was aware of what had happened, but the greater part was oppressing my reality so I could slowly warm into it, like edging into a glacial lake on a hot summer’s day.
The first thing to come into focus for me were the bars on the door of the room I was in.
The second thing was the hard wooden floor, I could feel the cold of the varnished planks leeching the warmth from my body.
And the third thing I noticed were the sounds. The whispers of moaning from nearby, and the distant wails of pain from further away.
And in the distance, the intelligible sound of a voice over a microphone. The booming, authoritative tones of somebody somewhere barking directions over a sound system.
I sat up and held my hand to my face, feeling the imprint of the ridged wooden floor pressed into my flesh. I pushed myself up onto my shaking legs and looked around, taking in my surroundings.
I was alone in a medium-sized bedroom with white walls and a thick faux fur carpet thrown across the other half of the floor. In the middle of the rug was a queen sized bed covered with a thick purple velvet blanket. There were two pillows on top of it, and a metal headboard with chains attached at the edges. I couldn’t let myself go there, to wonder what the chains meant.
The walls were white and plain, the only feature standing out was that barred door. This door was in the middle of the wall, and was made of black metal bars with a heavy metal lock hanging from the handle. There was no privacy. It was open to anyone who happened to walk past.
In one corner was a half wall hiding a toilet and sink with nothing else. It was a prison. I wasn’t in a room; I was in a cell. I had woken up in prison.
I rubbed the spot on my neck where I’d been injected it didn’t sting anymore but it still ached, and I felt a small lump under the skin close to it. There was a crust of a scab overtop.
I looked down and found that I was wearing a thin grey silk nightgown. I shivered in the damp, cold air. I really was trapped in a cage. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless.
There was a single narrow window at the top of the wall at the back of the room, but there was no way for me to look through it. It was light outside, but the slice of sky I could see was covered in dull, grey clouds.
I had been transported into a land of grey and white, devoid of color. It took a few moments until clarity kicked in and it all hit me at once.
I was a prisoner.
The thought exploded in my mind like a lightning bolt, fully waking me up at last. I rushed to the front of the cell and rattled the door, desperately trying to get the lock to fall loose, but nothing happened. I shook it again as panic surged through my blood, setting it on fire with animal-like fear.
“Hey!” I called out and heard my voice echo back at me. “Hey!” I yelled even louder, but it just echoed.
I banged the lock against the bars to make as much noise as I could, and I screamed, “Hey! Help me!”
Somewhere in the distance I thought I heard a small noise, like the mewling of a kitten, so I called again. “Hey, is somebody there?”
The noise got louder and seemed to come from a room a few doors away. I craned my neck and tried to see farther down the corridor, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was originating. I could barely see any of the other doors, let alone figure out the source. The smooth white walls made the sound waves bounce off erratically.
In the distance, I heard the speaker again and then the rise of a crowd, not cheering, but screaming as if rioting or fighting.
And down the hall, there it was again. The small noise, a groan this time, though.
“Hello?” I called out. “Who’s there?”
“Everly?” I heard the voice cracked and muffled. “Where am I?”
“Penny?” I screamed. “Penny! I’m here! I don’t know what’s going on! Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice still cracked and dry, but louder now. “My head hurts so bad and I ache all over.”
“I think they drugged us,” I said. “But I don’t know where we are.”
“Why?” she asked.
“The Organization,” I replied. “They did this to us both. I’m so sorry, Pen, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I felt sorrow grip my heart tight enough to give me a sharp pain in my chest. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, as the weight of it all crushed me into silence.
