This book will feature 12 stories (1 written by yours truly) that will grip you and twist you inside out if you let them. The book will be coming this September and promises to be something you won’t want to miss.
By Tom Foster
She woke to the feeling of cold cement beneath her cheek, the chill of the stone stiffening the muscles in her face. A puddle of drool had collected beneath the left side of her head, its wetness unpleasant as she regained consciousness. Her plain brown locks spilled all around her as she lay there, some of it catching in the wet puddle as she began to slowly move her head about. A sense of vertigo hit her as she tried to crane her neck backwards, sending her crashing face first back to the floor beneath her.
“Hey, are you okay?” she felt a rough hand gently touch the back of her neck, its warm touch causing her eyes to snap open. Trying as hard as she could she attempted to rise, her arms and legs moving in spasms no matter how hard she tried to regain her control.
“Hey relax, you’re still groggy. Just take it easy.” Another hand clamped gently on her shoulder, further aggravating her.
Vanessa did not like to be touched. Why this was so even she could not say, it was just a character trait that had been with her for most of her life. The merest brush of another she did not know or care for set her teeth on edge. Even those she knew didn’t always find that they could just offer a friendly touch.
“Get off of me.” She managed to speak the words, but found that her jaw clamped shut immediately after. Whatever had been done to her had yet to wear off, leaving her body still halfway paralyzed.
“Fine, have it your way”, the voice said, muttering as the speaker moved away. She wanted to apologize, to tell whoever it was that she didn’t mean to be so rude, but first she had to rise. Gathering the sparse strength she still possessed she attempted to work her arms, planting them beneath her shoulders as she struggled to push herself up. Fire burned in her muscles as she ground her teeth together, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she struggled to raise herself from the ground. The rough feeling of the cement was quite unpleasant, though it was nothing compared to the pounding in her head as she continued to strain herself, managing to rise halfway before she collapsed, her cheek meeting the ground quite rudely as she grunted in pain.
“See? That’s why I tried to help you. All of us had that problem apparently on waking up. Do you want help?” The voice became a little more distinctive as she lay there in pain, its masculine tone carrying a hint of irritation in it. Vanessa ground her teeth together as she steeled herself against the answer she knew she’d inevitably give. The fire within her body did not subside as she lay there, her muscles seizing even as she tried to lay as still as possible. She could feel her cheeks burn with the shame of not being able to stand on her own two feet.
“Yes please. If you don’t mind can you help me up?” A short snicker caused her cheeks to flush even more as she heard the footfalls coming in her direction. Keeping her eyes closed she could feel as her entire body tensed upon the stranger’s touch. If he noticed he said nothing, picking her up quite easily before setting her back first against a wall that felt just as solid as the floor. The chill touch of it even through her shirt caused her to at least try and arch her back, though she found that she couldn’t even do this as the fire in her veins surged yet again. Her hiss of pain was followed by yet another short burst of chuckling from more than one throat. Opening her eyes Vanessa prepared herself to glare at those who were laughing at her expense, though what she saw caused her to think twice.
She quickly counted nine other individuals within the well-lighted room, seven of them women and two of them men. They were in a round room that, as she could now see, was composed of concrete walls, floor, and nothing else. Blinking several times she attempted to look up, but after just a few seconds her head began to swim as black spots started appearing in her vision. Lowering her chin she gasped at the pain that had erupted at the nape of her neck, reaching back with one hand to feel for the sore spot. What she found left her wincing anew as her fingers probed the sensitive, raised portion of flesh along the back of her skull.
“You too huh?” spoke the voice that she now recognized, one of the two men she reasoned. “I woke up with a pain inside my skull that I still can’t get rid of. I suppose whoever put us here wasn’t too gentle in the doing.”
Vanessa didn’t answer, closing her eyes for a moment as thoughts of drifting off to slumber began to enter her mind.
“Don’t fall asleep,” she heard a woman say, “If you’ve got a concussion it’s likely you won’t wake up. That’s what my mom always told me anyway.”
She had no intention of falling asleep, not when her head hurt this much, but it was at least good to hear another voice at this moment. Her memories were so badly jumbled at that second that remembering her name felt like a grand accomplishment as she gently massaged around the tender spot on her skull.
Someone let out a long sigh as the sound echoed faintly in the chamber, “So, anyone have any ideas on how we got here and why?”
No one answered the second man as he spoke, though Vanessa was desperately attempting to remember the last thing she’d done, said, or even ate before waking up in this place. What had she been doing?
“All I know is that I was folding my family’s laundry when I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and I dropped. When I woke up I was here.”
“Me too,” said another woman, “I was coming out of my home and felt a jab at the base of my skull, right here,” Vanessa didn’t look, but could imagine the woman pointing at the spot, “and then I was out.”
“Where is ‘here’ though?” one of the men asked.
No one spoke for a moment, though as she opened her eyes Vanessa once again attempted to look up, but this time without craning her head back so far. What she saw was absolutely nothing, just pitch black without any hint of an end, as though they’d been dumped in a pit that light never reached. Except there was at least some light, though it took her a moment to realize that it was coming from wall-mounted halogen lights that were burning just bright enough for them to see by. The cylindrical lights were located far enough up on the wall that jumping for them would be quite impossible.
Looking around the room with half-closed eyes she took in the state of her fellow captives. No one was chained or bound in any way, and none of them appeared to have suffered anything worse than whatever had been done to subdue them and bring them here. The seven women ranged in age from what looked to be two teenagers to one woman who could have been in her thirties. The men looked old enough and rough
enough to be in their thirties and possibly forties in the case of one of them.
“I don’t know any of you,” she said plainly.