Immortal Ever After
One
Valerie’s eyes blinked open to darkness. For a moment she was disoriented and wondered what had woken her, but then she became aware of footsteps overhead. She lay still and listened as someone puttered in the kitchen at the top of the stairs, but tensed when the footsteps paused and she heard the slide and click of first one, then another, and finally a third bolt being slid open.
A moment of silence passed before the door swung open. Light immediately raced down the steps and across the basement’s concrete floor. By the time it reached her cage, it was weak and dull, but even that bit of light made her blink after the pitch black they were left in most of the day.
She could hear the other women stirring and feel the tension building behind her. Fear was suddenly a living, breathing thing in that dark, dank room. Valerie tried not to let it claim her as well and began counting backward from one hundred to distract herself. A clear head was necessary if she wanted to escape. Fear led to panicky actions and reactions. It led to mistakes, and there was no room for mistakes if she wanted to get herself and the others out of this house of horrors.
Her attention was claimed when the bit of light from above was suddenly blocked by a large figure filling the doorway. It was Igor with a tray in hand, she saw as the light framed his silhouette. That light danced around his body and shifted on the floor as he started down. The heavy thud of his boots on the wooden stairs was loud in the sudden hush. The women were now as still as deer caught in headlights.
Valerie held her breath and waited as Igor reached the bottom of the steps. He walked past her cage without a glance, heading for the back of the room and the cages there. He always started at the back, distributing a bottle of water and bowl of oatmeal and fruit to each captive until he reached the front. Everyone would get a meal except for the woman who had been chosen for that night’s fun. Knowing that, Valerie tried to make out who was getting food and who wasn’t, but her cage at the front of the room and the virtual darkness the other women were in made it hard to see anything. She thought Igor had stopped at every cage but couldn’t be sure.
When he stopped in front of her cage and Valerie realized that he was now dangling the tray by one handle alongside his leg, empty, she let her breath out on a slow, silent hiss. It was her turn for a “night out” then. Finally. She remained still as he set the tray on the ground and retrieved his keys from his front pants pocket. The tray would remain there until he returned her to her cage. He’d use it to carry away all the bowls he’d just handed out, she knew.
Well, he would if he were to return, but she didn’t intend to allow that.
The door of her cage swung open, but Valerie waited for his terse, “Come,” before shifting to her hands and knees to crawl out. Her home for the last ten days was four feet high, four feet wide, and the same deep. There wasn’t room to stand, or even lie inside it. For ten days she’d either lain curled in a ball on the floor, or sat with her knees tucked to her chest. The only time she got to straighten her legs fully was when she was let out of the cage, like now, and that had only happened once before since she’d been dragged here. Other than that, she’d spent all her time in this cage, eating and even relieving herself there in the bedpan provided. The bedpans were removed once a day when he collected their bowls after feeding, and returned after emptying.
“Up,” came the terse order as she paused on her hands and knees on the cold concrete floor. Valerie wasn’t surprised when the order was accompanied by Igor grasping her arm and dragging her upward. After so long without being able to straighten her legs, she needed the help and barely restrained a groan of pain as she came upright. She was even grateful for his supporting hand on her arm as he walked her silently up the stairs.
Much to Valerie’s relief, the worst of the pain eased by the time she reached the top step, but she continued to lean into his hold, even deliberately stumbling on the last step to give the impression that she wasn’t completely steady on her feet. He’d expect that. Normally, the drugs they put in the oatmeal would only now be wearing off and she would be expected to be slow and a little uncoordinated.
She wasn’t.
Valerie had stopped eating the oatmeal after her last “night out.” She was clearheaded. Her only worry was that she would be weaker than usual after four days without food. But there was nothing she could do about that and would just have to count on her skills, her strength, and the element of surprise to see her through what was coming. She had no intention of dying in her own filth in that damned, stinking cage in the basement.
Valerie’s eyes blinked open to darkness. For a moment she was disoriented and wondered what had woken her, but then she became aware of footsteps overhead. She lay still and listened as someone puttered in the kitchen at the top of the stairs, but tensed when the footsteps paused and she heard the slide and click of first one, then another, and finally a third bolt being slid open.
A moment of silence passed before the door swung open. Light immediately raced down the steps and across the basement’s concrete floor. By the time it reached her cage, it was weak and dull, but even that bit of light made her blink after the pitch black they were left in most of the day.
She could hear the other women stirring and feel the tension building behind her. Fear was suddenly a living, breathing thing in that dark, dank room. Valerie tried not to let it claim her as well and began counting backward from one hundred to distract herself. A clear head was necessary if she wanted to escape. Fear led to panicky actions and reactions. It led to mistakes, and there was no room for mistakes if she wanted to get herself and the others out of this house of horrors.
Her attention was claimed when the bit of light from above was suddenly blocked by a large figure filling the doorway. It was Igor with a tray in hand, she saw as the light framed his silhouette. That light danced around his body and shifted on the floor as he started down. The heavy thud of his boots on the wooden stairs was loud in the sudden hush. The women were now as still as deer caught in headlights.
Valerie held her breath and waited as Igor reached the bottom of the steps. He walked past her cage without a glance, heading for the back of the room and the cages there. He always started at the back, distributing a bottle of water and bowl of oatmeal and fruit to each captive until he reached the front. Everyone would get a meal except for the woman who had been chosen for that night’s fun. Knowing that, Valerie tried to make out who was getting food and who wasn’t, but her cage at the front of the room and the virtual darkness the other women were in made it hard to see anything. She thought Igor had stopped at every cage but couldn’t be sure.
When he stopped in front of her cage and Valerie realized that he was now dangling the tray by one handle alongside his leg, empty, she let her breath out on a slow, silent hiss. It was her turn for a “night out” then. Finally. She remained still as he set the tray on the ground and retrieved his keys from his front pants pocket. The tray would remain there until he returned her to her cage. He’d use it to carry away all the bowls he’d just handed out, she knew.
Well, he would if he were to return, but she didn’t intend to allow that.
The door of her cage swung open, but Valerie waited for his terse, “Come,” before shifting to her hands and knees to crawl out. Her home for the last ten days was four feet high, four feet wide, and the same deep. There wasn’t room to stand, or even lie inside it. For ten days she’d either lain curled in a ball on the floor, or sat with her knees tucked to her chest. The only time she got to straighten her legs fully was when she was let out of the cage, like now, and that had only happened once before since she’d been dragged here. Other than that, she’d spent all her time in this cage, eating and even relieving herself there in the bedpan provided. The bedpans were removed once a day when he collected their bowls after feeding, and returned after emptying.
“Up,” came the terse order as she paused on her hands and knees on the cold concrete floor. Valerie wasn’t surprised when the order was accompanied by Igor grasping her arm and dragging her upward. After so long without being able to straighten her legs, she needed the help and barely restrained a groan of pain as she came upright. She was even grateful for his supporting hand on her arm as he walked her silently up the stairs.
Much to Valerie’s relief, the worst of the pain eased by the time she reached the top step, but she continued to lean into his hold, even deliberately stumbling on the last step to give the impression that she wasn’t completely steady on her feet. He’d expect that. Normally, the drugs they put in the oatmeal would only now be wearing off and she would be expected to be slow and a little uncoordinated.
She wasn’t.
Valerie had stopped eating the oatmeal after her last “night out.” She was clearheaded. Her only worry was that she would be weaker than usual after four days without food. But there was nothing she could do about that and would just have to count on her skills, her strength, and the element of surprise to see her through what was coming. She had no intention of dying in her own filth in that damned, stinking cage in the basement.