Trapped

Trapped

He was cold and wet. The smell of rotting and death filled the air. The slow ethereal sound of running water cut the otherwise perfect silence.

Jack Davis couldn’t breathe. He coughed into the wet mud and tried to lift his head so he wouldn’t suffocate. He had no strength, he was on his front and his body felt dead. He needed air. He used all his willpower to roll onto his back. When the air came it struck Jack’s burning throat like cold water on tempered steel.

He tried to open his eyes. He couldn’t. The mud was matting Jack’s eyes shut, it was painful.

What happened, what had left him like this?

Jack remembered waking up next to his wife. He had heard something. He was scared. He got out of bed. He heard footsteps below; whoever it was, he was downstairs. A muffled cough came from down below. How dare someone come to his house! He was angry, too angry. He went down stairs.

A dark figure was in the shadows facing away from Jack. Jack ran at him, ready to kill this man who had entered his house and endangered him and his wife.

What had happened next? Jack couldn’t remember. He managed to lift his arm up; he could feel some strength returning to his muscles. He wiped his eyes. It hurt, but he managed to open them.

Complete darkness.

A lot of good sight did him. He reached around him, rounded stone walls. They were wet, covered in mould. He was at the bottom of an abyssal dried up well. He began to scream into the infinite blackness.

Blades of pain slashed at his head. A flash of white, warmth washing over him, the acrid smell of cleanliness. What the-?

The darkness returned. What the hell was happening to him!?

He was running at the man in the shadows. Someone come from the side, he was caught off guard. They slammed into Jack from the left; he lost his balance and fell. Before he could move they were on him, both of them. Kicking and punching.

Jesus! How had he ended up here? What happened to his wife?

‘Jack, please...’ his wife’s voice was racked with emotion, it echoed off the wet walls ‘Don’t leave me.’

He didn’t understand; her voice was coming from above. He looked up. There was a tiny light at the top of the well. He screamed out.

She couldn’t hear him.

‘You have to wake up!’

Wake up? What was she talking about?

The sharp pain stabbed into his head again. Bright white walls appeared, the smell of cleaning detergent returned as did the warmth. A hospital.  His wife beside him. He screamed in silence.

‘I’m sorry Mrs Davis. But it is highly unlikely that your husband will ever regain consciousness.’

Jack fell back into the abyss, into the darkness. The light at the top was gone. He was trapped; trapped in the darkest reaches of his mind.



WC-500