Time to Remember
Jerrod's brain went into overdrive. Becky had disappeared for a while , giving Jerrod a few minutes to process.None of this made any sense to him, but he had to figure out what to do next. He scanned the room around him- searching for clues as to where he might be. It was a large room with a low ceiling. It was quite obviously old and extremely dusty with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. The unpainted planks that made up the walls were cracked with age. A windowless room with no furnishings save for a few broken wooden chairs in the corner piled like kindling. Candlelight danced on the walls, highlighting the strange symbols painted there. He couldn't make out what they said( if they said anything at all-it looked to him like a bunch of random shapes and marks) but they were precisely written and densely covered the entirety of the walls. He heard her again from somewher high above him, clomping down stairs with something heavy dragging behind her Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump, until she reached the bottom. He could hear her muttering some gobbledy-gook (that meant nothing to him)and the distinct sound of something being dragged across the floor. He looked down at Richard who was still laying crumpled at his feet, unmoving, a dark stain spreading beneath him. He nudged him with his toe . No response. Shit.
After dropping whatever she was dragging behind him with a thud, he could hear her padding away from him and (it sounded like) going up a flight of creaky stairs.In time, the silence was deafening.When it seemed evident that he was alone, he did his damndest to focus. Okay, this is it. Think! What are you gonna do? THINK Goddammit! He tenatively tried to get up, his legs weak and shaky. His feet had gone to sleep and he nearly collapsed on the prone form of his friend. He hopped over him barely missing his head and stumbled into the wall. His shoulder took the brunt of impact, the chair hanging to his wrists behind his back. The chair was the same wood variety as the broken ones in the corner and Jerrod had an idea. After a few minutes of stomping his feet trying to get the circulation in his legs going, he went across the room and then ran back, full speed towards the wall and twisting into it with the chair taking full impact. It rammed into his back knocking the wind out of him with a harsh woosh and the zip-ties attached to the side posts sliced into the flesh of his wrists. He grimaced with pain, stifling a moan that tried valiantly to escape his lips. Blood started to trickle down his fingertips. The chair was still in one piece, but it's joints were a little looser. He made the run again, this time to successful results, the chair in pieces at his feet. The wooden dowels slipped from his blood slicked wrists and his arms were free.
He ran to the stairs and looked to the top-there was a closed door which upon closer inspection he unsurprisingly found locked. He went back down and sat with a thud on the bottom step. Examining his wrists, he could see they were pretty sliced up. He shook his hands and blood spattered the floor. It wasn't life threatening, so he went back to sizing up the room. His eyes fell upon the sole of a red tennis shoe attached to the shape of another body sprawled on the floor. The other foot was bare and small.
Becky had been busy.
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