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Prologue
Friday, August 24
Sharp claws scrape along my neck.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Zzzzt...zzzzzzz...zzzt...
Buzzing fills the room, and I strain to open my eyes but they’re like molasses, thick and sticky and slow-moving. My stomach jumps and the room shifts as my blurred vision registers red walls and coffee-colored concrete. I inhale a hint of bleach and incense with a spicy note as I shift to survey the rest of the room, but my muscles ripple like languid water.
The air conditioner kicks on, and the cold air raises chills across my naked body.
I’m...naked. A fist squeezes my lungs as panic rips through my system. My memories are disjointed.
Where am I? How did I arrive here?
What is happening to me? What has already happened? Shoe soles click on the floor and silence my questions.
I am not alone. Or... I wasn’t. The door closes with a quiet click.
Get up. Move. Run!
Gripping the sides of a massage table, I roll off, and my bare feet hit cool flooring. The walls close in and shift, and my stomach roils. Something is wrong. Off.
Floor-to-ceiling mirrors cover an entire wall, and my breath catches as reality comes into view.
Pink flower buds wend through a vine of black along my neck and upper back.
Confusion clouds my senses, and I stand cemented in place gawking at the angry red skin, sore and tender and smeared with glossy petroleum jelly.
A tight knot grows in my throat, and tears stab with heated force against the backs of my eyes.
I have to get out of here.
Behind me, I spot a twin bed with luxurious sheets and a thick white comforter as well as tattooing equipment. My hands tremble. Am I in a tattoo parlor? Why is a bed in here?
Lying on the floor next to the bed is an old iron cuff attached to a thick, heavy chain that is anchored to the wall.
Why is that in here and where are my clothes?
I snatch the downy comforter and drape it over my exposed body.
Run. Run. Run!
I open the door but have no clue which way to go or where he is or how long until he finds and cuffs me to that bed.
I’ve been trapped before at the hands of a vicious predator. Old memories surface and spur me across the carpeted flooring. The hall veers left. My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness as I flee to safety—no.
To a dead end.
Defeat leaches like muddy water into my soul, and my chest aches. The only choice is to turn around.
But he’s in that direction.
Sweat slicks down my temples and spine, springing up through my pores like an underground fountain as I return the way I came.
