I yank against the restraints.My heart races, and all I want is to curl into a ball and wait for someone to save me, but there isn't anyone.
No one knows where I am.
The psycho who kidnapped me intimates Paul will come, but what can he do?
A choked cry forces itself up and out of my throat. A strangled thing, it squeaks into the emptiness of the hellhole I find myself in. A drop of water runs down my cheek. It could be a tear or a splatter of cold water raining down on me. That bastard taped a hose to the top of the deathtrap he placed me in.
Strapped to a chair, bound at my hands and feet, I'm not going anywhere.
There's no way this is the end of the road. I, Vivianne Faulks, am not going to die in a dark warehouse, drowned in a creepy contraption meant for a horror movie. There has to be a way out, and I need to find it soon.
Already, the water rises past my ankles and moves up my shins. It pours in a steady stream, splashing over me during its fall. It has nowhere to go. And it's frighteningly cold.
My prison slowly fills. Soon, it will reach over my head.
I struggle and try to stand, but the chair is bolted to the floor. My feet are bound to the legs, my wrists secured to the armrests. Other than the steady cascade of water, there's no other sound.
My captor left me to my fate, fading back into the darkness until he disappeared altogether.
The cold barely matters. Every natural body movement is on hold. Even my shivers seem to have paused as the reality of my fate settles in.
What should I do?
My body should be soaked in sweat, but it's impossible to tell what's sweat and what's moisture from the drops that splash on my dress. A throbbing settles behind my eyes, and my ears vibrate with a high-pitched buzz. The thumping of my heart adds to the incessant noise, sending blood surging past my ears and intensifying the buzzing roar in my head.
My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of my palms. I've likely drawn blood by now, but it doesn't matter.
Nothing matters.
The rapidity of my breaths intensifies. For now, oxygen floods my lungs, moving in and out with unceasing regularity. Soon, water will take the place of air.
My breaths will slow.
Stop.
My heart…
I turn my eyes upward, once again examining the confines of my prison. There's no way out. My gut churns with tense cramps, but I can't let it overwhelm me.
Not now.
Not when I have little time left to escape this hell.
Seconds turn to minutes. Time marches on. Water fills my prison, rising to my shins, creeping over my knees, crawling over my waist, swallowing my shoulders.
I thrash against the bindings as the inevitability of my fate approaches. But there's no rescue, and all my efforts to free myself result in the bindings around my wrists cinching down tighter than ever before.
With my circulation cut off, I no longer feel my fingers or hands, and even my feet suffer the same effects. Not that it will matter much longer. The chill water steals my heat, plunging my core temperature to a dangerous level. I've stopped shivering, and that's probably a bad sign.
The water laps at my lips, and I press them closed. Tilting my head back, I lift my nose above the encroaching water.
But that will only buy me a few minutes.
The water level rises.
I break the surface with superhuman effort, lengthening my spine and gaining a few precious millimeters. Gulping at the air, I find myself under the water again.
My heart hammers against my ribs. There's no one to hear my screams. When I can no longer hold my breath, I struggle again. Stretching and pushing against the chair, I lift my nose above the surface and fill my lungs.
