INK: Abstraction Read Free Page B

I’d
do it,” I answer in complete seriousness.
    Carl looks at me with
pity. “I know you would, Eli.”
    “Let’s do
this.” McNab grabs his bag of tricks and starts setting up
weird statues and trinkets on the coffee table.
    Carl lies down on the
couch. He looks at McNab and grabs his wrist. “You’ll
stay here no matter what while I’m streaming, right?”
    “You know I will,
Carl.” McNab wraps his hand around Carl’s wrist in
reciprocation. McNab’s expression is riddled with admiration
and concern. “I’ll be right here.”
    “What exactly are
you doing?” Trish asks.
    “I’ll
explain in a minute.” Carl says, dismissing her, then turns to
McNab. “Can I do anything?”
    He looks up from Carl,
still holding his wrist. “Pray.”

Chapter Two
Through the Looking Glass
    Shay
    Time
means nothing to me anymore. There's no use in trying to count the
number of cycles where it’s gone from hot to cold. The
assumption is that nightfall chases away the warmth. My fingers and
wrists are raw spending countless hours trying to get out of the
ropes. It’s hopeless.
    Humming
softly does little to drown out the sound of cutting and tearing at
flesh. Hearing every little thing has become my new obsession. The
only conclusion is that my captor is carving up my companion.
    I
lament his passing over and over in the darkness of my captivity. A
few times my captor has taken the gag out and given me some sort of
liquid that tastes chalky, but sweet like vanilla. There should be
hope in the fact that he’s clearly trying to sustain me, but to
what end? When and how will he be finished with me? Why would I want
to know what was going to be happening to me? I mean, really I have
to be next; otherwise, why am I here?
    In my slumber I’ve
tried to dream, but so far no luck. Finding Gabriel would provide
some form of relief, it would be welcome regardless of how small it
might be. All of the muscles in my body ache from being unable to
move. The cutting sessions are the only time I'm allowed to stand.
    I don’t
understand what’s happening. He’s only cutting me barely
deep enough to draw the smallest amount of blood. The cuts are
shallow, but they still burn when the blade travels in long lines in
my flesh. The cuts on my wrists and ankles from the ropes are deeper
than the ones from his knife.
    I still can’t
place his voice. All I know is that he’s a man and he talks to
himself as much as he talks to me. He has cryptic arguments and
there's no telling whether he’s winning or losing.
    The stench of rotting
flesh permeates the entire room, and I can smell it on my captor’s
breath when he’s close to me, breathing on me. That leaves me
wondering if he’s eating my companion and if he intends to do
the same with me.
    When I’m alone I
can hear the sound of something dripping, slowly dripping. It sounds
heavier than water. My ears have become keener with the inability to
see. My sense of smell has heightened along with my awareness of the
temperature when I was trying to count the days. I lost track. The
problem is I also had fallen out of consciousness a few times and I’m
not sure how long I was out or if I missed a cycle.
    I’ve spent a lot
of time reevaluating my life choices. Although, who thought that
going to work could be so dangerous? Just like any other day, I got
out of my car to go into the building. That’s the last thing I
remember until I woke up here, tied up and in pain, terrible pain and
even worse terror.
    My captor has left and
I’m alone again. The air is growing cooler and I desperately
wish I could fall asleep. Eli comes to mind and I imagine him
wrapping his arms around me. Holding me, keeping me safe. I swear if
I get out of this alive I’ll never leave him again. Focusing on
him helps with the pain and the fear. I think back to when Elise died
and he was so strong for me. I put every beautiful memory on replay
in my mind.
    One of my favorite
events is when he proposed to me. I