(Probably inspired by that novel of Stephen King in which a woman gets stuck in handcuffs when her husband dies during sex... I can't recall the name right now, sorry.)

Captured in the Dark

At first Andrea knew only that she was surrounded by darkness and unable to move. When the stunning drug was finally gone from her system, the muscle control and sense of touch retourned, making her aware of the thick layer of packing tape covering her eyes and mouth and the strings binding her limbs. The tape was also wrapped around her head in vertical so that her jaw was forced close.

Andrea tried to pull her hands free, first tentatively, then harder, but the bonds would yield only a bit. She tried again but the strings didn't seem to loosen anymore. Who ever tied the knots did a great job, she thought bitterly.

Why am I here? She had thought about that question a lot since coming to. At first Andrea had thought that the elevator had crashed and she was down in the elevator shaft, blind and paralysed, waiting for rescuers to arrive. When she'd realised she was tied up, she had thought it might be a cruel prank played by her co-workers. But why? Her birthday was five months away, and she couldn't make up any other possible reasons for getting this kind of attention. Sure the boys from the office often told bad jokes but she doubted they'd ever try anything like this. Now she was quite sure of being abducted by some evil person. She hoped to be held for ransom or as a hostage - other possibilities were too depressing to think about.

"Ngggh!" Andrea yanked and tucked. The strings cut so deep into her flesh she though her hands would soon be slashed apart from her wrists and fall on the floor. But then I'd be free!" And she pulled and struggled until she was all sweaty and exhausted.

It's no use. There's no use fighting, the ropes are too strong. Andrea cried silently and since her eyes were tightly covered in shining tape, the tears soon started dropping out of her nose making her feel even more miserable. So sloppy, so damn sloppy! Then: Silly me. Stop crying, you whore, shut up! And eventually, it worked.

Now she knew the strings were unbreakable, but maybe she could make them slide? She squeezed her hands together and pulled and frowned. It was the sweat that finally made it possible. Suddenly her hands were free, just like that. She sat still for a moment. I managed to... I really... I did it!

Easily she pulled the strings from around her ankles. Then was the time for the tapes, but they just wouldn't come off! She was about to cry again, because finding the end of the tape seemed impossible plus her nails were always cut as short as possible. Damn piano lessons! She remembered how her mother had dragged her to the music teacher when Andrea was seven years old and the she had been playing ever since. It had never given her anything except for that time when she had played a solo in the Christmas festival, and even then the time had been studdering...

No use. She would have to wonder around blind until findind scissors or a knife or anything to cut those tapes. She walked on with arms stretched forward till she reached the wall. It was cold, perhaps of concrete. I must be in some kind of a basement. The space seemed enormous and it was completely empty. She was amazed to find something of solid wood. A stair rail, it must be a stair rail!

Andrea staggered up the stairs, clutching the smooth wooden rail with her both hands. Finally she reached the door and moved her hands around it to find the handle, but in vain. She felt the keyhole, it was one of those old-fashion keyholes that could be opened from both sides. If only she had the key! She banged the door once, then realized that most likely the only person to hear that would be the kidnapper. Holding her breath, she pressed her ear against the door. The only thing she could hear was the distant humming of water pipes, other than that, the house was completely silent.

Nerviously she wondered around the room again and again, searching for something she hadn't noticed before. Maybe there would be a window somewhere a little above her reach? She tried to feel any draft, but in vain.

After a while, Andrea heard steps from outside. It must be the kidnapper! She returned to her chair, wrapped the strings around her ankles but didn't tie them to the chair, and placed her hands behind her back. When she heard the lock opening, she leaned her head against her chest.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head. It's time to cut off those nasty wires and have some fun."
Oh how she hated that cheerful voice! And yet Andrea waited until she felt the capturer clutching her shin and... She combined her hands to a big fist in front of her with a loud slap and struck down, leaning forward. Bullseye! She felt pain in her pinky finger as her fist stumped against the man's scull, but she didn't care. Again she struck, powered by the capturer's amazed growl - This time her fist collided with his nose and she felt it breaking into a bloody mess. The man fell backwards and Andrea rose on her feet at once, and started kicking the damned enemy with rage. She couldn't now if he tried to fight back, at least it didn't matter. Andrea growled between her clenched teeth and felt sweat running down her back. The surprised kidnapper kept screaming and groaning in pain for a long time, but suddenly he turned silent. Andrea keep on kicking even then, but soon realized the man wasn't faking it. Breathing heavily, she slumped down on the floor and tried the man's pulse. Nothing. She panted trough her nose.
Relax, it's called excess of justifiable defense...
Oh my God, he's dead, DEAD! I've killed a man!
Shut up, he deserved it. That sick bastard.

Had he said something about cutting? Yes, there, in the pocket of his pants was a switchblade. Andrea pulled it out and pressed the button. "Chk!" She pushed the tip of the knife under the tape and moved the blade upwards. She felt the tip sratching her cheek, but she couldn't stop now. Inch after inch, thick layers of packing tape where cut. It hurt even more pulling the tape off her skin, and it stuck ever hard to her lashes and eye lids. Do I have to slash my eye lids open to be able to see again? Andrea wondered in terror. But then it was over, her eyes were free of tape, though the lashes were still a bit glued together. Painfull light struck her as she opened her eyes, making her squint. For some reason she had been sure that it was completely dark in there, but apparently not. The kidnapped was lying at her feet, staring blindly at the roof. Though his lips were bloody and the nose was crushed, he didn't seem badly damaged at all. He seemed ordinary, someone you might bump into in the super market one day and then forget. A slim figure, clean clothes, a little goatee and moustache, light brown hair that was little longer than usual, almost reaching the collar. He seemed to be in his late thirties, already turning bald on the sides of his forehead, poor fellow. A freak, a sick fucking pervert!
Andrea couldn't even spit since her mouth was still sealed with tape. She started quickly cutting it off. The tape had been wrapped around her head and it was now stuck on her hair, and she coulnd't get it off, but that didn't matter so much. Only things that mattered was getting her eyes and mouth uncovered, and that was soon done.
Andrea took a last glance at the discusting man, then raised her eyes on the open door. Free! I'm free!
Wait, who is that man? Why on earth did he do this to me?

Andrea searched the pockets again. A wallet. ID. Donald Andrew Woodpecker. Who the heck is that? She sighed and rose again. Maybe the police would bring some light to this matter.
Andrea run up the stairs and searched for the phone. When the police arrived, she was totally calm. Someone told her she would be taken to hospital for a check.
It took about an hour. No rape. No bad wounds. "Do you have someone you could call, Ms Spings?"
She didn't.
"Are you sure you can survive by yourself for the night?"
She wasn't. "Yes. I'm alright."
"Great. Here's a number you can call, if there's any trouble. We'll contact you again tomorrow."
Andrea didn't talk much, only when the police or the nurses asked her something. Soon she was home. Since the kidnapper was dead, there would be no threat anymore.
But she couldn't sleep. She had already forgotten what the man had looked like. It could be anyone. Anyone on the street, on the job, on the store could hurt her and she could not foresee it. The shadows danced on her covers and she couldn't sleep.


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