Prologue

There’s a special kind of insanity in remembering.

Just a few seconds, stretched into a semblance of eternity. The soft, cream colored curtains, fluttering in the breeze of your open window. It should’ve been closed. A scream that stretches the corners of your mouth. And the night, black and starless, not a single soul to witness as you are taken from everything you know.
-

When you awake everything is different.

The floor is cold and hard against your skin, but you don’t dare move, not even to shiver. Because even though you’re facing the dark concrete wall, and even if your breathing is all that you can hear, you know that you’re being watched.

There is a gaze like a touch creeping up your spine. And it holds you so still with terror that you don’t even know if you’re still breathing.

So you wait, there’s nothing else to do. You count to ten and then to one hundred and then to ten once more. You close your eyes harshly until your eyelids burn, trying to remember how you got here. But it’s no use, the same memory plays again and again each time until frustrated tears slide down your face and onto the floor. You can feel the gap in your memory like an open wound.

You sing two whole songs in your head and then the chorus of three others. You try to remember as many countries as you can and then their capitals. But then you stop.

Because you can hear it. Quiet as the wind whispering through the grass on a cold, winter night. You can hear him moving behind you.

And you can’t bear it a second longer. Your whole body aches right down to your bones from the cold and the stillness, and your mind burns with dangerous curiosity. So in a moment of weakness, you turn around.

You can’t help the gasp that tears from your throat. Sitting in the shadows is a man, cloaked so completely in darkness that it looks as if he himself is made of shadows. His features are hidden, but you can just make out long, unkempt hair and a mask that looks suspiciously like a muzzle.

Why are you here? Imprisoned in the same cell as this terrifying character. Is he a prisoner or a guard? Thinking about the answer makes your blood run cold.

“Hello” your voice rasps against your throat on the way out, but it can’t be helped. You feel like you’ve been left out in the desert to dry.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even acknowledge that he heard you, he keeps so still and silent that if it weren’t for the strand of dark hair fluttering in front of his face with every breath you would’ve thought him a statue.

You try sitting up, stretching out your sore limbs slowly and watching him intently for any signs of movement. He remains still and silent. But his eyes, sharp and soulless, follow your every move.

Perturbed, you stand up carefully, you avoid facing the strange man directly but look at him out of the corner of your eye at all times. Your head hurts, and when you’re upright the room spins for a second before righting itself. You use the wall for support as you walk slowly to the door. It looks to be made of metal. Heavy and dark like iron, with only a small barred window to connect it to the outside world. It doesn’t have a handle. And pressing your face to the bars and to look as far as you can doesn’t prove to be very useful. You can see maybe five feet of hallway from either side of the window, and that doesn’t tell you much. The floor is tiled and white, like a hospital. That’s all you know.

You’re certain it’s been hours since you woke up, and since then nothing has happened. No one has come to check on you, your mysterious cell mate hasn’t even moved. You turn to glance behind you. Predictably, he hasn’t moved an inch.

You aren’t wearing much, but at least you remember these clothes to be the same ones you were taken in. Just a loose pair of sleep shorts and a ratty t-shirt. Unfortunately, the cold damp nature of the cell you’re in means that it isn’t anywhere near comfortable. You’re cold, and hungry, and the ‘bed’ inside the cell looks about as comfortable as the floor.

You want to know why you’re here.

“Hello!?” You call out into the hallway, your voice shakes with disuse and fear.

“Заткнись” he spits. And you startle so hard that your body slams against the door. The noise makes you fold into yourself.

"What?” You manage, heart still beating in your throat. The man hasn’t changed positions, but his eyes are squinted at you. Considering.

“Be quiet” he says gruffly. And then “there’s no way out.”

You stay there, silently looking at each other for a couple of moments. Then he adjusts against the wall and looks away.