Page 30 of Once Upon a Fable

I glared at the heavy wooden door, dropping my gaze to the rusty padlock that’d continued its role of imprisonment for far too long.

Get it over with.

I pulled the key from my pocket.

I opened the door.

I stepped inside to face my enemy.

CHAPTER NINE

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MY EYES COULDN’T GET used to the harsh brightness of the screaming light bulb above me. White haze danced over my sight, obscuring the barren cell that I’d woken in.

I didn’t know how long I’d been locked in the dark, but it’d been long enough to have to use the bucket I’d found in the corner and drink out of the tap like some trapped animal.

Unlike earlier today, when I’d complained of being overly dressed and too hot, now I was grateful for my windbreaker and layers.

It was cold.

Very cold.

Damp and deep, seeping into my bones and making me shiver.

I’d like to say I attempted to escape—that I pounded my fists on the door and clawed at the walls for a weak spot—but my head ached so badly that I’d dry-heaved when I’d first exploded back into consciousness.

My throat burned. My neck was swollen and sore to the touch. Bruises throbbed over my shoulders and back from thrashing beneath his hands.

And my knife was missing.

Flashes of being strangled kept torturing me.

Pieces of him chasing me, killing me, and then leaving me to rot in this place.

God, the images wouldn’tstop.

The only comfort I had was my personal locator beacon. My cell phone was utterly useless, the screen lighting up the stagnant dark when I’d checked my leggings pockets and found both devices still there.

I had to admit, I’d been shocked that he hadn’t taken them off me. Why had he taken my blade and compass but not my PLB or phone?

Had he believed he’d killed me and just stored my body down here to decay? Or was his intention to keep me alive and his captive? In which case, why permit me to keep the very things that might enable me to escape?

Whowashe?

Why had he been naked?

Why had he chosen to hurt me before I’d even explained why I was in his house?

With fear coursing through me, I’d used my time as his prisoner wisely. After taking care of my needs and drinking what I could around my bruised throat, I settled back against the wall and confirmed my phone was of no use in my current no-reception predicament.

Doing my best to stay strong and smart, I turned it off to conserve the battery.

That hurt.

It slashed at my heart to watch the glow of communication die in my hand, cutting me off from my brother, my fellow climbers, my life.

You’ll survive this. You’ll see.