Faint

Andy's POV:

Her letters arrived every Sunday, at the same time, 10pm. I didn't even think mail was delivered on Sundays, but that didn't matter.

Her first letter wasn't as bad. it was what was expected: she was scared, possibly hurt, and alone. We all guessed as much, but actually hearing what she was going through was by far the worst torture imaginable. Her second letter was shorter, to the point. She left out details, and simply explained how she needed us, and to be honest, that hurt even more. The idea that I couldn't even protect her, that not even a week into our relationship, I had failed he, allowing for her to get hurt, to be fucking kidnapped. To be alone and lost.

I missed her, and the guys did too. We all tried to stay positive, but the police said that with no way of making contact, it was getting more hopeless with each passing day. They examined the letters, trying to find fingerprints, or an address, but there was nothing. Nothing at all. No way of finding her.


Courtney's POV:

Two weeks.

That was my best guess at least. I had started making carvings in the wall with the blade after my first week. But I'm pretty sure they weren't accurate. It didn't matter anyways, anyway of keeping track of time was enough. I would settle for that.

I was given a small handful of water after my first week. It was served in a tiny dish, with only enough of the purifying liquid to keep my alive. i had originally considered not drinking it, thinking it had been poisoned, but after awhile, the drink just kept taunting me. had thought maybe I could die from dehydration, but that thought wasn't appealing. It would be a long, tortured death, full of going in and out of consciousness, plus I could still get beaten during my unconsciousness.

That brought my attention back to the blade. There was a reason my captors had willingly given it to me, the reason I do not know. Maybe to try and put up a fight? To kill myself? The first one didn't make any sense since every time they were in the room with me, I couldn't find the knife, it was always gone, like they had taken it. I would always wake up later, with the blade back, gleaming in the light. Truly, they made no sense whatsoever.

I had yet to be given any food, and the hunger had long since stopped annoying me. It was a constant ache, which was never once dulled, but tolerable, after being more or less anorexic half of my life, i could bear this torture method. Barely.

Now, i was dying of thirst.

I curled up in a small ball, the blade clutched tightly in my shaking fist. The edges digging into my palm slightly, causing for blood to ooze out of the cut. My vision shook as I tried to focus my attention on the blood, dribbling out of the gash, but my eyes refused to focus.

Cold. I was so cold. dressed in my filthy clothes from the kick-off Black Mass concert, which consisted of shorts and a band t-shirt with my Vans. I was freezing, the temperature no doubt nearing the negative numbers. This was inhumane; I hoped whoever was doing this to me burned in hell one day. No, that would be better than this, I hoped they froze in hell. That would suffice for this.

"Please," i murmured, rocking back and froth on my heels, "warmth, water," i choked out, shivering.

I closed my eyes, readjusting my hold on the knife, relishing in the pain for a moment before I shivered again. The pain distracted me from everything else, from my current reality. A reality so similar to a nightmare that i longed to wake from.

Then I felt it. The slightest touch. The gentle splash of water on the tip of my nose. I opened my eyes, thinking I was losing my mind, when i saw it. The droplet of water, cascading from the ceiling above. It didn't make sense, but I didn't care. it was water.

i stood on shaky legs, leaning onto the wall for support as I curiously peered upwards, and sure enough, droplets of water licked my sunken cheeks. I smiled slightly, opening my mouth and just tasting the wonderful water. As a minuscule drop landed on the centre of my tongue, I let out a low hiss, spitting the scalding liquid out. it hd burned my tongue, a drop of water that small had burned me.

Realization took over, and my eyes widened to my horror. I scurried backwards, dropping to the floor and shrinking into a ball as the fiery liquid dropped, each droplet letting out a puff of steam as it made contact. I cringed and flinched when he water would land on my bare flesh, leaving nasty red marks in their wake. I buried my head in my arms, attempting to hide all bare skin from the fury of the boiling water.

Minutes ticked by, and the hiss of the steam was silenced, and replaced by the plops of water lading on water. I glanced up and saw to my horror that puddles were forming. Tentatively, i crawled over to the puddle, dipping the tip of the blade cautiously into the puddle. I poked the edge with my finger and let out a small shriek as it burned the skin of my finger, flinging the weapon into the darkness.

I inched backwards, sucking on the ruined flesh before turning my gaze upwards. the water was falling, fast, and collecting on the ground. And with no doors of windows (that i knew of) to open, this chamber could potentially fill the extreme temperatures burning all of my flesh before I ultimately drowned.

I screamed again as the water began to rise over my ankle.

Notes

Well shit.
So sorry for my delay, chaotic week and such :/

poor Courtney. I hope Andy saves her soon