Brogan

  Man that was some crazy dream...Oliver and I were in a car accident, and there was some weird psycho who...he...it doesn't matter.  It was just a nightmare.  I'll just pinch myself to make sure. 

Pinch.

  "Pinching yourself to see if you're awake?"

  My blood froze.  I've heard that voice before.  But...this means the accident...and the man...it all happened!  It's not just a nightmare!  I try to open my eyes, but I can't for some reason.  They must be swollen shut?  That's weird, I don't remember hitting my face on anything.

  "They're not swollen.  I took the liberty of sewing them shut.  Couldn't have you seeing anything you shouldn't be seeing, and I would very much like to keep those beautiful blue eyes whole."

  "What the fuck?!?" I try to bring my hands up, I struggle but they're restrained behind my back.  "Who are you?? Why are you doing this? Oliver???"

  "Oliver can't hear you right now, he's a little tied up at the moment. If you have a message, I can relay it to him though." I could hear the sarcasm and contempt in his voice.  "If I were you, I'd be more worried about myself though."

  "Why? What are you going to do to us?"  I waited for an answer, but never received one.  There was just silence.  It's almost as if my captor had vanished into thin air.  Even though it's deathly quiet, I hadn't even heard him leave.  My ears strained, listening for something...anything.  Nothing with a dash of nothing, a pinch of nothing, and a side of nothing.  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

  Holding my hands together was a bit of leather.  It was tight, but not so tight to cut off circulation.  I pulled, seeing if it would give way, but it didn't so much as stretch.  The wall behind me was cold and felt like stone, or something equally as hard.  The floors were the same.  No coverings and didn't provide any warmth, especially to someone sitting on the ground.

  It took me a minute but I was able to position my legs under me, enough to push myself into a standing position.  Positioning myself against the wall, I slowly followed it around the perimeter of the room.  My first thought was jail cell.  Trying to picture any cop shows I've seen on tv, my current abode seems to be the same size and equally unfurnished.  I almost tripped over the small pallet lying on the floor in one of the corners.  Without the use of my eyes or hands, tripping seems a lot easier now.

  I sat heavily back down on the pallet, sitting on one of my fingers in the process.  "Ouch, shit!"  Grimacing in pain, I started coming up with a plan.  I'm going to have to wait and see what's going to happen.  Oli is nowhere to be found and I haven't heard him since I've been awake.  We have no way of contacting each other do I'm going to have to find a way out of this mess on my own.

Oliver

  I hope Brogan is doing better than I am. That fucker better not have touched her. Pretty sure all my fingers are broken though.

  About an hour ago, a hellish looking man had come in and started wailing on his finger tips with a hammer.  Not the full finger so they could still be moved and used though.  Oli glanced down at his fingers.  They were already turning a nasty shade of purple.  Ever slam your finger in something or accidentally smash it?  Yeah, this was 100 times worse.

  Back when they were still in the vehicle, Oli remembered the moment Brogan went quiet.  He had been busy trying to cut through his restraint with a shard of glass he'd found.  When he heard a squeak from his fiance he looked over to see, what looked like a demon, plunge his fist through the shattered passenger window.  That had snapped Brogan out of her stupor and she started swinging like an MMA fighter.  She might be tiny, but she'll fight like a hell cat when threatened.  The man, what I thought was a man, grabbed the back of her head and quickly smashed her face into the dash, knocking poor Brogan out cold.

  Restrained as I was, I knew I wouldn't be able to fight the attacker off still restrained by my seat belt.  While he was preoccupied with my hell cat, I was finally able to cut my way out of the belt, falling down to the hood.  We had been upside down for so long all the blood came rushing back to my head, momentarily making my vision go dark.  When it came back, I looked around wildly, looking for movement but not finding any.  The man had completely vanished.  Brogan was still hanging limp.  She would be out for a few moments so I let her be, crawling through the window on my side.

  Getting up to survey the area, I found us to be down a ravine, right next to the bank of a small stream.  We were lucky we hadn't hit any trees on the way down, or landed in the water.  We surely would have drowned before we could have escaped.  The car was about 45 feet down from the road they had been travelling on.  I made my way up the incline to see where we were, but didn't see anything.  It was pitch black out, but there weren't any houses or buildings that I could see.  Rural Kentucky can be pretty barren.

  I made my way back down to the car, deciding that I would get Brogan out and then we would follow the road until we came across someone who could help us, or who had a phone we could use to call and get help.  Grabbing another piece of glass in case I had to cut her out, I bent down and reached inside.  Supporting her with one arm, the other tried to get her belt undone.

   Thinking back now, I should've been more mindful of the area and what was around me.  I never even heard that man come up behind me before I felt something hard come down on the back of my head.  Memory of that made me reach up to feel the painfully throbbing goose egg.  As he did this he looked around the room for the 10th time.  The room looked like it was used for medieval torture.  There were various lengths of shackles on the walls, one of which was bound to him, hanging from the ceiling, and a plethora of pain causing torture devices all around the room.  Next to the door there was a sink, and directly beneath that there was a drain. 

  Just where in the world were they?