EMERY
A persistent achethrobs in my brain, each beat reverberating through my skull as soft humming fills my ears. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. It’s too hard. Too painful. I struggle to stay conscious, everything around me blurring into a disorienting swirl of colors and shapes and noises.
Muffled voices sound from afar, distant and indistinct.What are they talking about?I try to focus on their words, but it’s useless, like fine grains of sand slipping through my fingers.
Where am I?The questions lingers on the edge of my consciousness, and I can’t piece two and two together. I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t talk. Icy air rushes past me, my muscles achy and sore.Move. Try to move. I struggle against the restraints binding my ankles and wrists together. Useless. It’s useless.
A zap of panic passes through me as the whirring of an engine registers in the back of my mind. A helicopter? No. A plane. I’m on a plane? My pulse quickens, head spinning.
Where is she taking me? Why is she doing this?
I drift in and out of consciousness, silently crying out for help.
Help me… Help me… Help me…
Can they hear me?
Hear me.
Please.
My eyes snapopen in a jolt and I gasp.
My temples pulse as I struggle to make out where I am. Where she brought me. Dread overwhelms each one of my senses, making it difficult to process, to understand.
I scrunch my nose, cringing at the scent of the stale and musky air. A shiver courses down my spine as I blink, making out the dirty walls, stained with grim and mildew.
Wincing, I try to sit up on the tattered mattress, but…but I can't. I can’t move.
What?
Panic sets in as my foggy gaze floats the chain wrapped around my left ankle, securing me to a pole anchored deep in the cold cement floor. A whimper escapes my lips as I take in the bloodstains on my white evening gown. It’s ruined. Hesitantly, I place a hand over the crusted blood on my cheek and forehead.
Fuck…
As my eyes gradually adjust to the dimness, I begin to make out a cluster of computer monitors illuminated in the distance. They don’t fit in here. They don’t belong. This room is disgusting, a grotesque wasteland. And yet, the computers are shiny and new and…expensive.
I squint toward the monitors, attempting to make out…anything. A clue. An idea of where the hell she brought me. Ican’t see anything on the screens. Not properly. Not when my head pounds and my eyes are still raw. Data, maybe? A map? But what does it mean? Why am I here?
The large computer chair in front on the monitors creaks, and my breath hitches as it slowly swivels around. The dim overhead lights shine down on a petite figure, their features shrouded in shadows. My gaze locks with theirs, and my stomach churns.
"Toni," I whisper, my voice trembling.
It's been several weeks since our meeting in Central Park but it’s her. Her appearance is unforgettable. Her plump red lips, thick long curls, and those eyes. Those fucking eyes that hold a glint of madness that twists my insides.
“Emery Jones.” Toni tilts her head to the side, my name slipping off her tongue with chilling intentions. “It is a shame that we meet again under such unfortunate circumstances.” Her gaze flicks to the chain around my ankle and she sighs. “I apologize for the, uh…extreme measures but it is necessary.” She snaps her head at me. “The last time someone tried to run away, it ended quite poorly…for all of us.”
A dry cough assaults my lungs, and I struggle to find words. The last time? She’s done this before? “Why are you doing this? Why am I here? I…” Tears well in my eyes. “I didn’t do anything to you. I?—”
Toni's expression turns cold, her eyes locking onto mine as contempt and anger radiate from her skin. Her voice is sharp and unwavering as she states, "Emery Jones, you are not my enemy. You are just a means to a very desperate end."
What the hell is she talking about? What does that mean? "I don't understand," I stammer, trembling. “I don’t?—”
Toni stands up from the computer chair and strides toward me, her posture confident and foreboding. "Have you read thenews recently, Emery? Did you hear about the curious death of the snake, Vincent Wentz?"
Vincent? What the hell does he have to do with me? I nod meekly, the memory of the headlines fresh in my mind. "Yes, I'm familiar with it. It's been all over the news."
“Good. So you know who he is.” Toni's lips curl into a grim smile, but there's no warmth in it. "But did you know that Vincent Wentz was a murderer, Emery? Did you know that his selfish, disgusting actions were directly responsible for thousands of deaths?” I swallow, and she yells, “Did you?!”
