Want Some Reviews? : Forum : In the Beginning


[send message][befriend] Subscribe
tj

In the Beginning

11 Months Ago


CHAPTER 1 In the Beginning     

“It was pitch black. I trembled in fear awaiting his next visit. Now when I close my eyes, I can still hear him. My arms and feet were bound, tightly. My heart racing and with every breath and muscle I tried to move but it was no use. Why is he doing this to me...? I kept saying to myself over and over again in my head. I was lying on my side, feeling nothing but the cold floor beneath me. My mouth was duck taped so I couldn’t scream for help and I was blindfolded,” a woman voice said.   A woman lies bound in total darkness. It was like the inside of a coffin. You can hear the sound of her trembling and moaning against the dusty ground.   “What did you hear?” a man’s voice asked.   “I could only hear the sound of myself breathing and the repeated thumps of my own heart beat racing,” She replied to him. Pause. “It smelt like piss and s**t. I could feel the dust in the air each time I took a deep breath. Every inhale seemed more unbearable than the last. My only thoughts were forcing me to think back to where I was before I got abducted by this mad lunatic. I don’t even remember being at home, or if I was outside… I had no job, no close family around. My mind remained blank and dark just like the inside of the four walls I remained in.” Pause. “I only knew I wanted to get out of this nightmare. That’s it, it must just be a nightmare… I hope so. Please god, I hoped so,” she said nervously.   “What do you remember?” He said softly.   “All I remember was waking up to the sound of something moving or someone. I remember someone breathing heavily over me. Instinctively a man, an older man. He didn’t talk, only the sounds of his intensive breathing and moving things around, which sounded like heavy furniture or metal piping. I remember the smell. The smell was putrid. It was like sewage in that place. Whatever the foul scent was coming from, it was overpowering and blocking my thoughts. Why am I here? I kept telling myself.” Another Pause. “My blindfold became loose and moved off one of my eyes as I tried to move but it was still no use, I couldn’t break free,” She replied to the man.   Suddenly a door swung open wide making a loud sound. The light moved entering the room revealing an old, wooden staircase. Two old boots were stood at the top of the creaky floor boards at the top. They slowly started walking down the dusty steps. The bannister was nothing more than rope from the top, all the way down to the last step. Dust particles lifted as the boots came in contact with each step. Creak after creak, a figure in shape of a man wondered down the steps.   “I heard the distinct sound of a door swing open from above me. I shifted in terror, listening to the sound of those loud footsteps stumbling down the creaky, wooden boards towards me. Closer and closer the sound became greater. My body started to freeze in that instant as his footsteps came to a terrifying stop right in front of me.”   The manky, old boots stepped out of the shadow into the light. They were heavily worn out with three small, metal buckles just covering the zip. They were dusty, but not enough for both pairs to shine in the light. They were made from hard leather, brown with a large outsole beneath.      “I could feel his dirty, creepy eyes staring right at me. I caught a glimpse of his crusty boots from the corner of my visible eye. It was still dark, as I never saw his face. He stood lighting up a cigar with a matchstick, flicking it to the ground where I lay.”   The man standing over her in the shadow wore long, blue overalls. He lit his match with his thumb and moved it towards his face lighting a very large cigarette. A thick cloud of smoke then appeared from out of his mouth spreading into the false light around the dark room.   “How revolting it smelt,” she said looking repulsed.   After a brief moment, the man turned and walked over to the far wall, where he turned a switch, forcing night light into the room from a small narrow window, which was barred shut with wooden plants and rusty nails. It was a cellar, still dark and dreary. The moonlight shot straight at her body, projecting swift lines of light over her. The walls appeared more visible now. The walls were made from stone, grey, crumbling stone which had eroded away over time. Very muddy and dusty. There was a rotten drain and a crumbly, broken pipe at the other end of the cellar in the corner. The pipe tube was slowly dripping into the drain which the foul smell seemed to be coming from.   “As he moved closer to me, I feared to look up at him. I could just make the shape of him and the clothing he wore. He just stood there wearing nothing more than blue overalls leaving his arms exposed from what I could make out. His head was hiding behind the shadow, just barely. The light from his cigar exposed the bottom half of his face in a yellow, misty glow.” Pause. “I feared to think what he was going to do to me. He kneeled and leant over very slowly at me and reached towards me with his fat, pale hand. Again I trembled with fear and disgust. He then lifted the blindfold back over my eyes. I tried to scream or at least speak out but it was still no good.”   “How long were you down there?” he asked.   “I don’t know. It seemed like weeks, months. Every now and then I’d hear his presence. He would never speak. I’d hear his footstep on the floor above me like he was pacing. I think he lived alone as I never heard other footsteps. Pause. “I heard the storms outside. That’s when I heard the screams.”   The man screamed out to the storm. He’d use his pale, mangled hands to shield the sound from his elongated ears.    “Screams…?” The man’s voice said.   “Yes… he didn’t like the storm. Other times I could hear him moving things,” she replied.   A woman was sat cross-legged. Her posture was straight and elegant, yet she looked very on edge and quite nervous looking. She wore black, only black apart from a white lace shirt underneath her long, black coat which was wrapped around her thin body. Her Long black hair covered half of her face right down to her chest.  Her hands were pale. Long, pale fingers and with blood red nail polish at each fingertip. Her eyes were a dashing shade of green and her lips red as a rose. She stared with her raging eyes at a man just sat from across her. Looking right back at her in a calm manner, the man just watched as if examining her.  He was more casually dressed. Long, smart, blue jeans. A thick, grey jumper, brown shoes and a gold wristwatch on his left wrist. He sat at a desk with his legs also crossed listening attentively. The room in which they sat was very cosy, small but quite plain. Two small, dark, green couches are facing each other and a round Victorian table in the centre. The floor surface was laminated with shiny long planks of oak wood which was mostly covered in a long red sequenced rug. A tall bookcase filled one of the walls in the room and two standing light shades next to each couch and with multiple, small house plants all decorated around the floor.   “Tell me about him, what happened when he untied you,” the examiner said sitting up closer to her, putting both feet on the floor.   “The first time I saw him when he lifted the blindfold off, I saw into his eyes, those dark, blue, cold eyes. He sat me up against the wall, arms and legs still tired and still duck taped. He was a man maybe 45 – 50. The lights were off so it was hard to tell. It was daylight as I could see the light trying to shine in through the shutters. He left me and walked upstairs. All I could do was keep my eyes on the floor. I dared not look at him. Once he was gone, I looked around the room. It was a cellar, dark and damp. I finally saw where the foul scent was coming from. It was coming from the drain in the corner. There were these four bollards standing up from the floor to the ceiling. They had these strange marking on them like fingernail scratches carved into them. As my eyes adjusted I could see the entire room had been marked with these scratches. They weren’t letters or numbers, just marks. Like a language or something I had never seen before.” Pause “Anyway,” she drifted. “There was nothing in the cellar. Only these marks on the ground. It was as if he had moved everything out of there while I was blindfolded.   “The lights had been switched on and the man came back walking down the steps once again. This time, he was holding a box, heavy and long. I watched as he tried to stabilise himself from falling. He reached the floor and placed the box gently down onto the floor. I watched as he did this but then shifted my eyes to the floor as he spotted my glance at him. He stood and turned to me. I don’t know what forced me to look up at him, but as he stood in silence. My gaze from the floor slowly glanced up at his staring eyes. I shuttered doing so and looked once again into those empty eyes of his. He was medium height, chubby, wearing those dirty, blue overalls again, heavy boots and an old baseball cap.”   The man gave the slightest smile and turned as if he was in discomfort. He turned his back on her and walked over to the drain. He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. In that moments, he began to urinate into the drain. She looked up at him as he pulled his pants back up and turned facing her. He looked at her as he fixed his pants and tighten his belt. He stepped forward to her and she remained with her eyes to the ground. He picked up the box and moved it to the end of the cellar. He then kneeled down and took out a box cutter from his pocket to open it. He ripped open the box and through the card to one side. He then carefully moved what was in the box and gently placed it on the ground which made a slight metal sound. He then scooped up the card with all the little bits of discarded tape left from the opened box and moved it all up, out of the cellar up the stairs. The woman then looked over to see what was in the box. It was a little far to see, but it was clear, now that her eyes were fully adjusted. It looked like a metal frame with multiple bits of metal bars and tiny screws. It looked like a bed. The man came walking back down with more boxes in his hands. This time, he didn’t stop, he just kept walking back and forth, bring more and more. “At first I didn’t know what he was doing, but then it was obvious. He was making me a bedroom.