As Sara stood blankly staring at the horrible scene in front of her, a man stepped through the hole. He was wearing black combat fatigues and a black balaclava that left only a pair of glowing green goggles visible. Sara stood frozen in wide-eyed terror as the large figure approached her, the ghastly green glow penetrating deep into her soul, immobilizing her in pure, unadulterated fear.
Sara began to shudder uncontrollably as trepidation overwhelmed her thoughts and her mind went blank. She could not think. She could not move. She was hyperaware of her surroundings as the man moved towards her. The sound of his feet crushing little bits of glass into the floor boomed in her head. She could see small tears in his clothing that looked like they were the product of a struggle. She could see his muscular body rippling beneath the fabric as each step brought him closer to her.
He was close now, only a few steps and he would be upon her but Sara’s mind remained blank, she wanted to run. Or scream. Or do anything other than just stand and watch his menacing figure grow ever larger as each step brought him closer to her, closer to the same fate that had befallen her mother.
He was upon her and yet she still wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move. His hands were around her throat now and she was being lifted into the air like her body was nothing more than a doll. He was carrying her back to the opening in the wall now. Sara’s mind was clear, the fear that was forcing all thoughts out of her head had become so overwhelming that she was merely an observer now. She watched as her body was carried effortlessly out through the hole and into the crisp morning air. The sunlight was a shock to her eyes and everything became a sheet of bright white for a second as the bleariness of sleep was violently burned away.
By the time she could finally see again, she was inside of some metal room. There was nothing around her but four metal walls and a single bluish light embedded in the center of each panel. Control of her body was beginning to return to her and she glanced around for her captor and her mother. There was no one else in the small room and curiosity began to push the fear into the back of her mind for the moment. She managed to get her feet underneath her body and mustered up the small amount of strength she possessed to bring herself to a standing position. She walked to one of the walls ran her hand along its cold surface.
A rage began to rise within her, fueled by the fear, and she smashed her hand against the wall.
“LET ME OUT!” she screamed, slamming clenched fists into the wall over and over again.
“LET ME OUT YOU BASTARD!” she yelled again, “LET ME GO OR I’LL…I’LL…I’LL KILL YOU!”
The ground began to rumble beneath Sara’s feet and she stopped her screaming and pounding as the intense fear returned and the unknown shaking intensified to a point where Sara could no longer stand up. She fell to the floor and scrambled up against one of the walls, pressing her body against it with all her might, hoping it might give her a small measure of security against the terrible trembling and noise.
The shuddering became almost unbearable as Sara pressed herself into the corner. Just when she thought she was surely going to die, a great force pushed her into the floor and the shuddering became more tolerable. She was being pushed into the ground with such force that she was unable to move for the second time that morning.
The downward pressure continued for a solid half hour and Sara laid motionless the entire time, unable to raise even a finger. And then, like it was never there at all, it stopped. And just like that she was floating. The sudden transformation from intense pressure to zero gravity sent Sara back into panic mode and she began to thrash. Despite her violent movements, she remained floating in the center of the small room, very slowly drifting towards the ceiling. Or was it the floor. Or maybe one of the walls. In all her thrashing, Sara had lost track of which metal wall was which. The thoroughly confusing sensation made her stomach begin to heave and she knew if she didn’t calm herself down, she was going to vomit.
A panel slid open on the wall beneath her feet and she had to bend her legs back and curl forward to see what was happening. In the opening was the upper body of the man who had taken her from her home. As she looked on, he removed the horrific green goggles and peeled of the black mask. His face was hard; there were no smooth lines on it. His jaw was set and looked as though it had been cleaved from a mold, sharp on every side. He wasn’t all together a completely unattractive man, he was definitely very masculine looking and he had a ragged scar running down his left cheek that curved inward toward his nose.
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