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Well, Zycope, I accept your challenge. I am sure I will conjure something. It may be another segment of a story I have posted up randomly around here, but one that has never been read before if you do not mind. Do you want that PMed or posted here?

First Entry! I decided not to do the story I have posted already. Instead, here is another that is laying around. The start of a story I didn't ever feel like finishing. Just a free write. Well, I'll PM it to you.

Captured and Killed, but Still Breathing

The sounds of footsteps filled my ears. I knew not who was behind the echoing thuds on the flagstone. It was far too dark to see anything. I did know that who ever it was, they had every intention of harming me, but who am I? That is a question I no longer knew the answer to. I could only tell you who, up until now, I thought I was.


My name has and always will be Annie O'Dell. It will remain Annie until I die. That is my only certainty. I thought I was just the average forensic scientist working for a police station in downtown Dallas. I thought I was just twenty five years old. I thought that I was going to spend the next few years committed to my job before I went out on some crazy adventure (which consisted only of spending a year in Russia). All of that, however, has changed in a matter of three nights.

I have found myself bound and gagged for the last three days laying in the back seat of a car. A mid-sized sedan which is a more recent model with a V-8 engine. I know that I am on the coast of the country, but seeing as they spent as much time confusing me as possible, I can not calculate the distance and the driving speeds. They know what I do for a living, otherwise they would not care that I look at the speedometer. I smell salt and hear seagulls. I know that I am on the coast.

No longer in the car, I found myself in some underground tunnel system (still bound and gagged) that could go on for miles. It was also very cold down there. That told me jack s**t about where I was; no matter where you are the temperature underground is constant. That is why bodies rot at the same rate when buried.

“I see you are awake,” one of the men called to me.“You're probably scared to death, aren't you?” he asked in a mocking tone.“You're going to be afraid for quite some time, oh yes. There is nothing I can or would do to deter you from your fear.”

His speech is-, well, there is something peculiar about him. I don't know what it is, but it terrifies me. It's like one of those horror novels you read, they talk in such a formal manor to the women that are about to be murdered; you realize that they're older than they lead to be, centuries older. They also dressed like it, but I could not see what he looked like. Those are silly novels though. Nothing like that could happen in real life, could it?

He walked off, smiling at me in such a way that forced me to
tremble with fright. I knew deep inside me that I was going to die a painful death. Another person followed him in. They pulled me by my tied hands to a standing position. I felt something cold and sharp at my wrists. Stinging pain ensued. Who ever they were, they sliced the ropes to free me, but had also injured me in the process. The duct tape was removed next from my mouth; screams of my pain filled the catacombs. I heard a chuckle from deeper into the darkness. Tears streamed down my face as I was forced to follow the strange man deeper into the buried maze.


I woke up chained to a wall. It was wet and slimy; there was a high chance I would get pneumonia before I was killed. Well this is just s**t,I thought to myself. I kicked the floor as hard as I could, coming to the conclusion that the room was very small from the echoes.

There were voices outside the door to my dank little cell. I recognized one of them as the man who had talked to me the night before. The second was that of a woman. She sounded young, but her speech was like his: too old for her voice. I was very afraid.

“Is there a reason for you to bring so many outsiders down here?” I heard her ask. She was skeptical about what he was going to do with me.

“There is, Little One,” He responded. “Patience. It will all come together, eventually. Just be patient.”

“That woman, there is significance about her, yes? Or is she just like the others, bound to die by your hand to sate your thirst for torture?”I knew now that the woman is foreign. She has a prominent accent in her forming of words.

“Again, there is. She has a lot of information that we need.”

“And that information is because of her profession, is it not?” She paused for a thought.“There are thousands of scientists in the area. Why not just ask the services of one of the others?”

“You are overlooking one aspect, Dearest Little One. It isn't just in the science that we could use her assistance.” Footsteps followed his voice, trailing away from my little room; one of them had left.

I heard the creak of a wooden door on metal hinges. There were more footsteps, these were coming directly toward me. It was him, I knew it. There was something about the gait that told me so.

I heard the strike of a match, the room was filled with faint light. All I saw of him was long, dark hair and broad shoulders. He held it to a torch, which caught in a matter of seconds. Light instantly washed the room, although I still couldn't see him.

I could now see the room around me. It's not as barren as I thought it was. It wasn't as small either. It was a full bedchamber, filled with all the things a bed chamber should have: Bed, desk, rug, wardrobe, and a few other bare furniture pieces.

“You've woken up. That's good. You must be hungry?” he asked. I just stared at him. I didn't have the courage to say anything. “Answer me, Annie. There is nothing to fear.”

There was a lot to fear from a man who knows your name without asking for it.“If there is nothing to fear, why am I chained to a wall?” I asked. “And no, I am not hungry.”

“You're going to starve you know.”

“I'm to die anyways, why not chose my death?” I muttered.

“Certainly not here,” he answered. “You think I wish to kill you?”

“If not to kill me, why keep me?” I asked.

He just laughed and sat on the little desk. He made me nervous in doing so, he was getting to comfortable around me. I didn't know whether to be relieved about this or not. I don't trust him.

“Why keep you?”he asked.“Young one, there are several reasons to keep you alive, for now. I don't know what the future holds. Cooperate with me and you're not going to die any time soon.”

He seems to be bargaining with me. “What if I refuse?” I asked.

He grinned an evil grin. “You're in no position to be refusing anything, Young One. You're in my hands now.”

“More like in your chains,” I muttered under my breath.

“And you're going to stay there until you realize what position you are in. Until then, you're just another wall ornament.”

“Just like all the others?” I asked.

“What others?” he replied nonchalantly.“You're one of a kind, Annie.”

Um, is there a limit on the size of the story? Or can it be as long as we want, as long as its' a short story?

OK!!!!! this is seriously depressing why has no one joined my contest

You're welcome.