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Chapter 1
Feebee
Iwoke up cold against the stone floor, my naked body shivering. A dim light shone from above me, unhidden by no decorative shade. I was in a room empty of decoration and life, reminiscent of one of those creepy movies where you would have to cut off your own foot to break free.
But my feet weren’t chained.
It was almost as if the psycho who imprisoned me knew I couldn’t use them.
My hands pushed me up from the ground, and my head spun, a side-effect of my gaze bouncing around the corners of this vacant cell.
There was nothing sugar-coating my grim reality.
This was a real-life horror movie, and I was the leading lady.
Stone walls stared back at me, their heaviness feeling closer and closer as the seconds chipped away at my sanity. I felt them closing in.
My heart began to race, my lungs sucking air in faster than ever as I spied a lone knife near the door, its blade sharp and ridged.
I guess that limb theory wasn’t so far-fetched after all.
On the far side of the room, was a man. He was propped up against the wall but unconscious and bound by chains around his wrists. He was lucky enough to still be in his clothes, though his shirt was torn, and his tie was loose and dirty. I focused on the fact that he wasn’t wearing shoes and wondered where they were.
“Hello, Feebee.”
I jumped from my skin, my heart pounding wildly in my chest, my fingers now brushing the area.
“You’re probably wondering why you’re here,” the voice boomed, loud and robotic, from an overhead speaker on the opposite wall of a bright red light.
The disgust over someone watching me made my stomach roll and made me more aware of my lack of clothing. Skinny arms shielded me, wrapping around my breasts and covering my crotch.
I trembled, wishing I could run, when the heavy voice sounded again. “I’ll tell you. You were the recipient of a heart transplant…”
The voice gave me time to examine the red-ridged scar beneath my fingers before it proceeded.
“You were never meant to receive that particular organ.”
That particular organ felt ready to give out.
“Hey,” I whispered, trying to get the man's attention on the other side of the room. He didn’t budge.
“Hey, wake up,” I pleaded, my voice a little louder. “Please, wake up.”
When the man didn’t answer, didn’t move, barely breathed, my attention and eyes moved to the camera.
“Can you hear me?” I asked in a meek tone, instantly annoying myself for not putting on a brave front. That agitation caused me to straighten my back and lift my chin, causing the blunt cut of my hair to tickle my shoulders.
“If you can, what the hell do you want? It’s not like I can give it back.” I hid the tremble of my lower lip from the glaring red light. I found myself praying this deviant couldn’t actually hear me, as nothing could conceal the fear in my voice.
“I’m going to give you a task,” he said, giving me no indication of whether he could or couldn’t hear me. “If you complete it, you’ll be rewarded. If you fail, you can use the blade near the door to cut out your own heart before I do it for you.”
Swallowing down my nerves and the fear-driven vomit climbing my throat, I waited for his request. My face blanched white, my palms too sweaty to even consider failing. I wouldn’t be able to grip that handle. My clammy hands could never drive it into my own chest.
“Here is what I want you to do. In the room with you, is a man you’ve never met.”
My spine went ramrod straight, and my neck hurt as I twisted to see him. “I won’t kill him!” I spat out the words before the creep could ask.
“You have five minutes to unzip his pants and bring him some kind of pleasure. If you fail, you die.”
