Days blended together in the dimly lit room, the only sound of the soft hum of the air conditioning vent above. Abigail's eyes had grown accustomed to the artificial light, but her skin craved the warmth of the sun. She'd lost count of the days since she'd last seen the sky.
The room itself was peculiar – a normal living space with a bed, a small table, and a chair, but with one jarring anomaly: the prison cell bars that separated it from the rest of the space. The bars seemed out of place, a harsh reminder of her captivity.
Abigail's mind wandered back to the events leading up to her capture. She'd been running from her past, trying to escape the toxic relationships that had suffocated her. But she'd never hurt anyone, never done anything to warrant this treatment.
"How did I end up here?" she wondered, frustration and fear gnawing at her gut. Had her parents orchestrated this? They'd disowned her, wished harm upon her, but could they really be capable of this?
The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She paced back and forth in the small room, searching for any weakness in the bars or a way to escape. But they seemed impenetrable.
As she walked, her eyes landed on a small camera in the corner of the room, its lens trained on her every move. Abigail felt a chill run down her spine. She was being watched, and she had a feeling that her captors were waiting for something – or someone.
The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of her own breathing. Abigail's anxiety grew, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What did they plan to do with her? Would she ever see the light of day again?
The door creaked open, and Abigail shut her eyes, wincing as the sudden flood of light pierced through her brain. The pain was excruciating, but she slowly adjusted to the brightness. When she opened her eyes, a towering figure stood before her. His thick beard and imposing frame seemed to fill the room, casting a shadow over her fragile form.
He was dressed in all black, his piercing gaze making her skin crawl. His eyes seemed to bore into her soul as if searching for any spark of defiance. Abigail's instincts screamed at her to cower, but her weakened state made her feel like a trapped animal.
The man placed a basket on the table, the clatter of the food containers echoing through the room. "Did I hear wrong? Food?" Abigail croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The man raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Are you deaf?" he retorted, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He pulled up the cell gate, the metal screeching as he moved closer. Abigail's eyes darted around the room, searching for any means of escape, but she knew she was too weak.
The man sat her down on the sofa, his grip firm, but not cruel. "The punishment will be as long as you're scared," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "For now, we need to prepare you for the deal."
"What deal?" Abigail asked, her curiosity piqued despite her fear.
"None of your business," the man replied, his tone unyielding. He handed her a bottle of water and a plate of food. "Eat."
Abigail hesitated, unsure if she could trust him. The man leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "The food isn't poisoned. But to simplify things: you're dying from hunger, and I'm growing tired of watching you starve. Eat, or I'll make sure your death is...expedited. Is that simple enough for you?"
Abigail's gaze met his, and she saw the cold calculation in his eyes. She knew she had no choice but to comply. With shaking hands, she opened the bottle of water and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat. She picked up a piece of food, her stomach growling in anticipation.
As she ate, she realized that she had to accept her situation, no matter how dire. She couldn't fool herself into thinking she had options. The man watched her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes seemed to bore into her very soul.