Everything was blurry, shrouded in darkness, as Emily awoke. Somewhere nearby she heard the crackling of a radio. It was low and distorted, but she could still faintly make out a voice chattering urgently through the speakers in spite of the bad reception.
“This is the sixth day since violence first broke out at the capitol. Authorities have so far kept the violence contained, but it hasn’t been quelled. The Chief of Police has voiced concerns that the violence may spread and has advised all residents in the area to stay in their homes…” The voice cut off in a wave of static, followed by the click of the radio being shut off.
“Stupid piece of junk.” She heard a voice say, recognizing it as the voice of the man who’d put her to sleep. It was muffled, coming from a different room. She heard another one, a higher-pitched more nasally one, laugh dryly in reply.
“That’s what you get for getting a bootlegged one. They never work right.” The nasally voice chittered.
“And pay for the license? The last thing I want are feds poking around my business, demanding my money. I earned it,” The first man remarked savagely. “ A couple of big wigs stuck their noses where they didn’t belong, and I was paid a lot of money to cut them off if you know what I mean.” He laughed with an odd mixture of pleasure and irritation in his voice.
Emily crept toward the sound of the voices, emanating from behind a closed door, the cracks of which provided the only source of light to the room she was in. She was still bound, forced to crawl like a worm across splintered floorboards. What little she could make of the room from the scant light was unimpressive. Faint traces of chipped paint, and cracked drywall were evident in an otherwise apparently barren room.
As she reached the door, her only hope of salvation, she leaned her head against it. Pushing uneasily against it, she worked her way into a standing position. Her legs were tied together, making it difficult, but after some effort she made her way to her feet. Her hands were tied firmly straight down to her sides, but she figured that if she worked her position just right, she might be able to grab hold of the doorknob and twist it open.
She worked silently, stealthily for a while at the difficult task. It was a struggle, but she eventually managed to get a firm grasp on the door handle. She was just about to twist it open, when she suddenly heard something that made her jump.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice whispered. It was low and soft. For a moment, Emily thought that she had just imagined it, but then it continued. “Not unless you’ve got some pretty neat tricks stashed away.”
Emily scanned hastily around her, not letting go of the handle. She couldn’t see anything in the shadowy recesses of the room. Still, she was certain the voice hadn’t come from nowhere.
“And how do you know that I don’t?” Emily growled in annoyance.
“I don’t.” The voice responded. “But if you don’t have anything good you’re only going to fail and cause us more trouble than it’s worth. They’ve kept it unlocked if that tells you anything. They want you to try to get loose, which means it’ll be a mess when they catch you, and I’d really rather not have that kind inconvenience.” The response was firm, with no hint of fear, only a matter-of-fact ease. It was as though the speaker was totally aware of the situation, and had already embraced it with serene confidence. “Though if you do have some fancy trick to help you escape stowed away don’t let me stop you, just don’t cause any more trouble for me with whatever you do.”
“Fine.” Emily sighed, letting go of the door handle and hopping further back into the room. “My name’s Emily, what’s yours, oh great unseen one.”
“No one calls me by my real name.” The voice responded, sadly. There was a shuffling sound in a corner, as a scrawny boy crawled into the light. “ Everyone always just calls me Glitch. Well, when I say everyone, I mean me.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Emily gave the boy a quick once-over as he spoke. He was bound hand-and-foot, just like Emily, but still, she could tell he was impossibly skinny. Any real details were difficult to make out in the darkness, but she thought she could make out a plain face and dark hair.
“Glitch, huh?” Emily considered the name, rolling it around in her mouth. “That’s a dumb name. Why go with that?”
“It’s because I don’t fit in with anyone else, I’m an anomaly.” He responded matter-of-factly. “That’s why I’m a glitch. Something that shouldn’t be here.”
“OK.” Emily replied hesitantly. “Well, I’m Emily. No special reason why, it’s just what my parents named me. I guess we’re prisoners together.”
“I guess so.” Glitch affirmed. There was an awkward pause after he spoke, as though neither of them were entirely sure what to make of that idea.
“So…” Emily said at last, shattering the tense silence. “What do you think they want with us?”
“Who knows.” Glitch responded with a shrug. “I would say they were holding us for ransom, but I don’t have anyone who’d pay to have me back.”
“So, what then, slavery?”
“Maybe, but I really hope not.” Glitch let out a sigh, easing himself into a slightly more comfortable position on the floor. “I guess we’ll find out one way or another.”
“I guess so.” Emily returned, obviously far less comfortable with the idea.
She tried to ease herself as best she could to the floor without just flopping down, but failed. She let out a disgruntled huff as her body thudded against the hardwood floor. She twisted herself to face the door, propping herself into a sitting position.
“Unless my Uncle gets to us first.” She chimed, when she was done maneuvering. “Assuming he can find us here. He’s good, but he’s not omnipotent.”
“Your uncle?” Glitched inquired, tilting his head quizzically.
“The strongest man I know…in more ways than one.” Emily responded.
Glitch looked like he wanted to ask more, but thought better of it and didn’t press the issue. Instead, he sat there in the darkness with Emily as they waited patiently for what she knew would inevitably come.
It didn’t take long, at least not to the distorted clocks of the captives trapped in the dark, before the inevitable swinging open of the door to their prison. The knob clicked as it turned, and the room was flooded with an influx of blinding light. Emily would’ve loved to be able to cover her eyes, as they were stung by the flood that hit them. It took her a few seconds to realize that the person in the doorway was speaking.
It wasn’t a voice she recognized, deep and resonant. It was attached to a silhouette, standing over the prisoners, cutting an imposing figure in the doorway. Broad at the shoulders and obviously muscular, even without any way for Emily to see details, this man was clearly not one of the gaunt freaks who had captured them in the first place.
“...You both will be treated with the most delicate care as long as you offer your full cooperation.” The man was saying in a professional tone. “We have no intention to cause you harm.”
“Then what do you want from us?!” Emily spat before she could stop herself. “It’s not as if we haven’t been harmed already. I mean really, we’re tied up in a dark room. The emotional damage…we haven’t even been able to go to the bathroom.”
The man, still shrouded in shadow against the light of the room outside, just cocked his head.
“That is an inconvenience, I understand. Though, given each of your backgrounds, I’m sure it’s far from the most uncomfortable situation that you’ve been through. You have my assurance that we’ll do our best to ease any further discomfort. That being said, you will be asleep for the journey from here to where the procedure will be performed.”
“Procedure?” Emily chirped, alarmed. “What kind of procedure are you talking about? Are you going to turn us into freaks?”
The man belted out a deep guffaw at her response.
“You are an interesting girl. It’s a shame you were born normal. Still, it may actually be a blessing, both for you and those to come after you.”
“What are you talking about?” Emily urged, a slightly frantic edge to her voice. “If you’re going to cut me up, I wanna know why.”
The man, for his part, didn’t respond. His head was turned, facing some unseen individual.
“Put them to sleep.” He ordered and stepped away from the doorway.
Emily caught a glimpse of a handsome face with a tight buzz cut as the man stepped away, only to be momentarily replaced by the same freak who had captured her before. She tried to scramble backward away from him as he approached, but he grabbed her ankle as she squirmed. She was out before she even knew what happened.