Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 166

Introduction:

Marcus wakes up tied to a chair with no idea where he is.

Date and Time Unknown

❇❇❇The taste of blood.❇❇❇

That was the first thing I noticed as I came to.

I blinked.

Or, at least, I thought I blinked. I couldn't be sure because nothing changed. Whether my eyes were opened or closed, it was all dark.

I was pretty sure I was blinking, though. The backs of my eyes screamed in pain every time I opened and closed my eyes. My head pounded in sync with my heart, which was doing double-time as I started putting together the shreds of gauzy memory slowly swimming to the surface of consciousness.

Crimson lights washing over the body of a girl clutching her side. Her face was burned in my mind as clear as day - wide eyes reflecting the fireworks overhead as tears streamed down her cheeks. She'd been crying, her sobs interrupted by rough coughing.

Her name... what was her name?

Charity.

I remembered ribbons of scarlet streaming from between her fingers as she clutched her middle. Her horrified screams still rang in my head as I recalled images of holding her close while bullets flew around me... the smell of gunpowder so thick in the air I could taste it.

Was she dead?

Fuck!

Emily and Natashya had been there at the party. Where were they?

Where was 1?

I felt the blood pounding in my head as I tried my best to fight down the panic that threatened to consume me. Images of Emily lying on the cold concrete floor like Charity filled my mind. I could see Natashya crying over her body and screaming for help... or maybe it was the other way around. Shit. What if lost them both?

Looking around uselessly in the pitch-black, I tried to search for anything that would give me answers. I realized I was sitting in a chair and tried to stand up, and something tugged on my wrists. I felt the chair being dragged behind me, throwing me off balance, and I tumbled backward into my seat with a loud clang as it landed on the hard floor beneath me. That's when it dawned on me that my hands were cuffed behind me, attached to the back of the chair.

"Hey!" I cried out. "Hey! Is anyone here?"

Complete silence.

"Hey! Can anyone hear me?"

I tried to stand up again, more aware of my predicament this time. I managed to hop to my feet, but the way my wrists were bound to the chair kept me from standing straight like I'd intended, and I teetered forward. I tried to put a foot out to catch myself, but that's when I realized that my ankles were also restrained. Each one was manacled to the corresponding leg of the furniture.

Unable to correct myself, I almost face-planted on the ground, only managing to roll to the side at the last moment so my face didn't take the full brunt of the fall as I crashed to the concrete floor. The chair came with me, twisted in a way that put my arms in a bind, leaving me unable to move them.

Still reeling from the headache gifted to me by whoever had knocked me out, I felt the pain come back with a vengeance. The guy who kicked me in the face must have given me a concussion, and throwing myself on the floor wasn't doing my recovery any favors. I groaned in pain as I unsuccessfully tried to right myself, pulling miserably at my bonds. All could think about was Emily lying dead in a pool of blood or Natashya missing half her head like poor Ray.

Fuck. Ray. I remembered his body falling like a limp rag doll in front of me, missing the top half of his head. I'd never seen anything so disturbing in my life, and the mere memory of what had happened to him was enough to almost make me vomit on the cold floor I lay on "Where am I?" called out pathetically. "What do you want?"

Still nothing.

"My sister was with me! Emily! And our friend, Natashya! Can.... look, I just need to know they're alive! Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Just... I need to know they're okay!"

God help me if Emily was dead. She had such an unhappy life the last few years and had just managed to get back on her feet.

And Natashya. Poor sweet, wild, wise, full-of-life Natashya. She didn't deserve this.

And Ray... Ray was going to adopt a kid with his husband. Fuck. What was I going to tell him?

Had Erin, Ashlee, and the rest been there when the shooting happened? Were they all dead? Was I all alone in some dark room while all my people were fucking dead? Erin and that stupid mischievous grin. Tiny, vivacious Erin, who always smelled like flowers and looked like sin. I felt like vomiting again.

"Can anybody hear me!?" bellowed, panicking... scared for the lives of the people I cared about. "Hey!"

A crash reverberated off the walls of what realized was a mostly empty room, and a rectangle of illumination flared across my vision, temporarily blinding me as I adjusted to the blessed light. A single figure silhouetted it, standing in the doorway like some kind of mysterious angel or devil... I wasn't sure yet, nor did it matter- as long as they had answers.

"Hey!" I said, squinting at the figure. "My friends! I had two friends with me!"

The silhouette in the doorway moved toward me without saying a word, its steps echoing on the cold concrete floor like some sort of foreboding drumbeat. Once the figure reached me, it grabbed one of my pinned arms and hauled me off the floor and back into a sitting position.

Judging by the strength of the grip and the grunt made while picking me off the floor, the stranger was a man. I squinted at him, trying to make out any features, but my head was spinning, and it was too dark to make out much anyway.

"Hey!" I shouted as I glared up at the stranger. "What did you do with my-

My words were cut short as a fist slammed across my jaw, sending my head careening back and causing my world to spin. Before I could recover, I felt a firm grip on my jaw as the stranger forced me to look up at him. I felt sharp pain where his fingers dug into my jaw, and I blinked, trying to clear my head enough to process what was happening to me.