Emmaline pulled the chains harder, trying to reach the
window, leaning over as far as she could, feeling the coarse metal cuffs cut
into her wrists. She could only make out the tops of the trees, but it was
enough for her to recognise where she was.
She’d been fascinated by the tower for years, photographing
it every time she passed, and then getting bolder as it became more derelict by
squeezing through a break in the wire fence to get closer shots. She knew when
she had found the sinkholes that it had been a mistake, but she had always been
the curious type. So had he it seemed.
She gave up trying to see any more and retreated back to the
chair. She sat on it – the wood of the seat as bare as she was, and pulled up her
knees, clasping them tightly as she wondered when he would be back, trying not
to allow her mind to rest on what he might do when he did.
She thought she heard a scuff of feet below and held her
breath. The dusty disused circular room reflected the silence as she strained
to hear anything more. Then there was a clink, and she knew.
Her stomach felt like it had dropped into her naval, and her
bowels loosened. She resisted the urge to urinate. She started rocking as the footsteps
grew louder; the scuffing sound on each step working like a ratchet in her
brain, turning it tighter, so that by the time they arrived outside the door
she was giving off a low moan to try and release the pressure.
The door swung open and there he stood – all smiles. Her
eyes flitted to the tubing in one hand and the bucket in the other, not missing
the assortment of metal implements poking out the top. Her moan escalated into
a high pitched whine, and then a scream as he walked towards her.
“Shhh, my lovely, shhh. Don’t worry, I’ll take my time. We
can enjoy it together.”
Words 341
nice and dark, lovely contrast to the sunny picture. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks! Glad you enjoyed it. I find the picture brooding, rather than sunny! LOL
DeleteChilling to think about where that story was going next. Good one.
ReplyDeleteThat poor girl. My imagination is in overdrive as to where this story goes next and it's not pretty. Her fear is palpable. Fantastic writing, Miranda. xx
ReplyDelete