The Depths (Kick in the Ribs Part 2)

         Cold. It seeps into my skin as I wake, numbing my body and my thoughts. My eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, open just enough for me to see what surrounds me… darkness. It feels alive, pressing in from all sides. My arms are stretched above my head, the icy bite of metal cuffs slicing into my wrists. Panic shoots through me, sharp and blinding. I thrash against the freezing liquid around my shins, but the chains hold firm. My feet hit a wall—smooth and solid. A tank. And that smell… iron. Blood. My blood? I splash around again in the thick liquid, only to be quelled by the pain from the chains holding me up. A stark reminder of the current state of affairs.
         I try to trek back as far as I can remember. My date my best friend Marcus set me up on, Chloe, boots, kick, out…. That’s it…. For fuck’s sake John, get yourself together. What the hell happened? A disengaging lock breaks the silence. My dick scurries up to my throat and for the first time in my short adult life, true fear courses through my body. Not knowing what possesses me, I call out into the void, “Hello?” Silence returns an answer. The lump in my throat tightens…. Fuck… Shit… What the hell man….
         Footsteps slowly encroach, getting louder with each step… I tremble, barely able to breathe. I can’t tell if I can see a figure getting closer, or if it’s this damned darkness playing tricks on my eyes. The footsteps stop what feels like a foot away. Heat radiates from the figure looming over me. It carries a stench—stale, sour, and heavy with decay. The scent clings to the air like damp rot, something between sweat-soaked clothes left too long in the sun and the earthy tang of soil after it’s been clawed at by desperate hands.
         “H-he-hello?” my voice cracks and crumbles like the rest of me. The figure sniffs the air, then bends low, swishing the water around my legs. My chest tightens, my breath freezing in my lungs. “WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?” I can’t help but share my frustration.
Annoyed, the figure grunted, yanked on my chains to test the links, and started back towards the door.
“Wait! Help!” a heavy metal door slams shut, leaving me to face my hell alone again.
         The sound of water flushing out of a thick pipe suddenly erupts behind me. The cold liquid around my shins now moves up to my thighs and stops. The cold is more than I can bear. “How high does this go? Am I going to drown? Think, think, think.”
         “Hello, John.” I recognize the voice coming over a speaker. “Are you enjoying yourself? Here’s the deal: I want answers—tonight. What did you want with my daughter? Who else is involved? I have a surprise for you that will surely help jog your memory if you need help. My helper, whom you’ve just met, will be back soon to assist us unravel tonight. Until then, enjoy your stay.”
         “Thank you, sir…” I mutter through my clenched jaw. I hate surprises. “That was the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard by the way.” my anger unable to mask my fear.
I need a way out of here. What does he mean by other people being involved? By now, my eyes are adjusting to the dark. I can see a tank surrounding me up to my waist, and my chains are shackled to what looks like a lid with weights on top. Water gushes again, but this time, it's out in the distance. I ignore it for the most part and try to recall what happened tonight. Sydney and I had dinner, and then left for a bar… can’t recall which, and we drank. Maybe a little too much.
         Just as I was beginning to recollect tonight’s events, the lights flip on with a thud. I can’t tell which I prefer more. Being blinded by darkness, or bright lights. No more is the deafening silence, but my thoughts and breaths are accompanied by the low hum of ancient fluorescent light bulbs. My eyes don’t take as long to adjust to the light; however, I wish I didn’t see everything around me.
The white tiled walls and floor make this place look like a looney bin from the movies. It’s like I’ve stepped into the original Saw movie, and it is massive. Directly in front of me is a metal table and chair with a notepad, a pen, a lamp, and some sort of fabric case. I’m unable to find anything useful for an escape plan just yet. I can’t just climb out of here; I may have to yank my hands free. I pull down on the chains to test their strength. I pull on the chains again, ignoring the sharp bite of metal cutting into my wrists. Blood slicks my palms, but I keep pulling. There’s no other way out.
         In an attempt to bide some time for more exploration, I decide why not strike up a conversation. “So this is where your helper’s coming, huh?” My voice wavers, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. The room feels colder now, the lights buzzing like a countdown.
         I hear a groan coming from across the room. There, across the tiled room is a tank like mine, but it’s filled to the brim. My entire world freezes, my blood curls. “Marcus! Marcus is that you?” my friend’s limp and bloody body moans again. Marcus, my best friend since high school, the guy who never let me down—hanging limp by his wrists and lifeless. I hear the clanking of moving machinery; his lid begins to lower. “Oh fuck!” I scream. “Marcus! What the fuck!” Marcus suddenly springs to life, splashing around, attempting to fight the lid from closing on him. The sight of Marcus sends my mind spiraling. Just hours ago, he was laughing over beers, teasing me about Sydney. Now he’s hanging like meat in a butcher’s shop, and I can’t do a thing to stop what’s coming. The weight is too much and the lid clamps shut. “Marcus! No!” My throat tears from the force of my screams, but it’s useless. The lid crashes down, and his thrashing grows frantic. I yank at my chains until my wrists bleed, the metal biting into bone, but nothing gives. He’s drowning. All I can do is watch. My stomach twists, bile rushing up my throat. I vomit into my own tank, the sour taste mixing with the stench of decay.
         The water in Marcus’s tank stills, his body motionless beneath it. My chest heaves, and I’m gasping for air I can’t seem to get. My tank reeks of bile and iron, and my throat burns from screaming. Then—darkness. The lights cut out, and I’m left alone with the silence.





Thank you everyone for your feedback and support! Looking forward to the next chapter!