“Don’t waste your time looking up, darling.” A voice, once smooth like water running over rocks, voice now broken and high-pitched. He knew whose voice it was. “Even if you could see there’s nothing here worth looking at.”
“Where am I?” He rasped the question.
“You know where you are,” she replied. Indeed he did. He knew where she had taken him. By the feel of the damp concrete, the taste of the darkness. Darkness so deep you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.
He felt her shifting closer, her breath on his skin, dirty fingers tugging at the fabric of his shirt. She laughed softly as he tried to move, tried to drag himself away from her. “Don’t waste your time trying to run, darling,” she whispered. “Even if you could move there is nowhere to go.”