“A time of change is approaching.…
The Destructive Strength of a New Beginning.
That which does not destroy the Warrior makes him stronger against new storms.
- The Prophet of Truth
The sound of a soft click brought Sarah back from her thoughts, and with her heart hammering against her chest, she tried the handle once again. She stopped for an instant as it surprisingly gave in, when it had clearly been locked just a second ago.
Apprehensive and anxious, she held her breath and slowly pushed the door open, her eyes growing wider and terrified at what she saw inside that small compartment.
It was so small that it almost looked like a closet, a cubicle made of three dark walls and the door she’d just opened. On her right there was a small rectangular widow near the ceiling that, in there, was much lower and claustrophobic than in the main warehouse she’d just crossed. Outside the light of the day was slowly fading away, illuminating the opposite wall from where she just couldn’t tear her eyes away.
The cement floor was wet with something thick, sticky and glistening, indicating it still hadn’t had the time to dry, and she instinctively knew it was blood. The smell was pungent, acid, ferrous and sour. Her eyes wandered half lost over those wide pools. So much blood, she thought with a shiver, and only then was able to really see the human bundle siting on the floor, chained to the wall.
She took a step back as she noticed the bright ferocious eyes watching her from behind dark, disheveled, dirty and bloodied bangs of hair. His naked body had been cut, beaten, burned and obviously intentionally bled. And yet, against all odds, the man watching her threateningly and breathing heavily while bleeding profusely from numerous deep cuts was still conscious.
Her head exploded into a deep, sharp pain when an urgent pressure took over her thoughts, leaving her nauseated. She had to get him out of there! As soon as possible! There was no time to lose!
Nervously stumbling forward, her stomach cringing at the squeaking sound of her tennis shoes as she stepped over his blood. She squatted in front of him, avoiding having to face that frightening gaze, and tried to quickly understand the best way to set him free.
“My name is Sarah. And I’m going to get you out of here,” she managed to tell him with a trembling voice and her cold, nervous fingers quickly studied the locks on the handcuffs around his wrists and ankles.
Why were they keeping him there? Why torture him like that? He was probably some kind of lab rat to test new drugs on!
The horror of the whole situation left her feeling sick and frustrated, when she realized she’d never be able to free him unless she found the keys. Lowering her head Sarah forced herself to take a deep breath, while her thoughts ran in search of a solution. Maybe she’d be able to find something to cut those chains with back in the lab.
“Wait here! I’ll be right back!!” she told him, forcing herself to face that wild gaze, wanting to reassure him. The clanking sound of chains warned her all too late, and strong fingers grabbed her by her ponytail, forcing her to stay still.
"Sarah.” His voice cut her inside like a blade. The sorrow printed in that simple whisper stole her breath away, and a wave of heat surrounded her as the world suddenly plunged into darkness.