Look! It's like Choose Your Own Adventure, but you don't get to choose! And it's not very adventurous so far! You're just in a room! And weird crap happens! YAY!
Yeah, Fright Night went well, we had to kick out the seventh graders, and I escaped without concussion. Candy for everyone!
You are in a room. You are sitting on a wooden chair. Your hands are tied behind your back and your elbows to the chair, the ropes chafing your wrists. In addition, your head aches something awful. You aren't sure, but you think you might be bleeding, up there, near your hairline. There is a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, but it is off. The only light source in the room is a small window high on the wall to your left, dim light glistening off the damp stone walls. It is nighttime outside. You can hear children laughing and shrieking in delight outside.
How can this be? you think. You don't remember anything past getting into bed last night. Was that last night? You're not sure. You don't know how much time has passed.
There is a reinforced wooden door in front of you and to the right. It creaks open. You tense, causing the ropes to scrape against your wrists again. You were expecting someone there, but apparently the door has merely opened of its own accord. Just as you start to relax, a tall, thin figure appears in the door. Shadows hide their face, but their clothes are clean, but simple and obviously old. Loose, faded jeans and a gray sweatshirt.
"Time's almost up," the figure says. They have a touch of a Dixie accent. You can't tell if it's a man or a woman. You should be able to tell, shouldn't you? You secretly like to think you're rather good at figuring out people, but you can tell absolutely nothing about this person. If it's even a person. Creepy.
"Time? What time? How much is left?" you cry, your ragged throat scratching as you speak, but the figure has already turned and left. The door swings shut with a sharp crack. A few moments later, you are able to discern the sound of footsteps thudding methodically up a flight of stairs.
You let your chin fall onto your chest. Stuff like this is only supposed to happen to other people. Besides, they're not even doing it right! Do they want ransom? Well, won't they be disappointed. Is it just the one person? Hmm, you might be able to take him, her, it.
Not like this, you won't. Even if you weren't tied up, even if there wasn't blood leaking into your eye now, even if you knew their techniques, you still aren't up for a fight. You're far too weak. Your limbs are like lead weights and you don't feel like you could even lift them, let alone take a swing at someone.
Your arms are starting to cramp, being held in a position like that. You wiggle your arms and, miracle to end all miracles, the ropes start to loosen. Honestly, a Boy Scout could tie you up better!
Okay, that might not be fair to the BSA. Or, rather, whoever tied the knots. The rope is still secure, but now you've got some wiggle room. Unfortunately, that brief action has tired you out. Your shoulders, back, arms, chest—they're all aching now.
You start to plan your escape. You'll probably be able to squeeze out that window, even if it will be tight, but can you even get it open? Well, you'll burn that bridge when you cross it. The important thing now is to get out of these ropes. Bondage just isn't your thing, at least not right now.
Oh no! Footsteps! You quickly settle back in your chair, hoping whoever it is won't notice the ropes sagging around your arms. They certainly don't sound like the one who was here before—wait, no, it's two people! Two sets of footsteps. Fudge on a stick.
The door creaks open again, and the two people enter. The one on the left is the one who told you that your time is running out. Definitely a woman, as you can now see the shape of her chest. Her head is still obscured in shadow, all but her chin. She seems very particular about that. The one on the right is dressed similarly to the woman, in a gray sweatshirt and jeans, but he wears slightly tighter jeans. He's even taller than the woman, and his face is completely hidden by darkness.
For a long moment, all is silence. You can practically hear your nervous heart fluttering.
"Well?" you ask. It's all you can manage at the moment.
The two figures cross their arms, the woman smirking.
"Well is not the question, hon," she says.
"The question is," says the man, "whether or not you're feeling brave enough."
They both step into the light, and you can't help but scream. You jerk away, and the force of your motion sends your chair crashing backwards. As your ears begin to ring, the world fades to black.
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