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Grinding. That's the sound that woke me up. it wasn't a quick rise, either. I swear it was like wading through a lake full of soppy mud. My limbs were so heavy, my skin tingled. I could hear the sound of metal rasping and scraping against what was probably tile. It was cold and smooth like tile. I could only feel it with my tingling palms, though. My feet and a large portion of my legs were laying in a pool of thick, sticky, chilled liquid. At first I thought my eyes weren't working properly because all I could see was black pitch. I realized after that numb sensation began to leave my body, from the head down, that I was blinking. No amount of blinking changed the blackness. Blind? Must be. That was the first thing that got my breath moving, and my heart rate speeding up.



The next sensation I began to feel laying there, as my feeling came back to me, was the most agonizing pain centered around my ankles; above them, I think. I started to shift my legs and that grinding sounded again. Along with that came the pain, the unbearable stinging, and tingle of the last remnants of numbness leaving my system. What is that? I tried to cry out, but it came out as this sort-of muffled moaning sound. It was a bit gurgly too, as I realized my mouth was full of coppery blood. Thick nectar that I discovered came from my tongue which had been chewed up like a rubber toy. Must have gnawed on it in my sleep. I shifted my arms, or tried to. They were cuffed, or bound behind me. I think they were cuffed though, because the metal clanged together, and it was loud. It echoed.



I had a realization though. As I was discovering my mouth full of type A-positive, I wasn't moving my feet because of whatever that unbearable stinging pain was. I moved then though, and I heard again the sound of metal on tile. My feet were cuffed, and with every movement...they didn't dig into my skin. No, it was far beyond that. As I heard and felt that grinding, I realized it was the metal cuffs moving against bone. I knew then I had been in a long, drugged, fitful sleep. The sticky pool beneath my legs was my own blood and as my foggy head cleared a bit, I knew I could smell it. I don't even know how I knew what blood smelled like, but I did.



I knew I must have thrashed around and those cuffs were sharpened and tight enough to dig into soft flesh. I could feel the metal move and grind against exposed bone with every movement. By this time, my body was quaking, my heart was pumping, and I still felt lightheaded. Blood loss no doubt. Just then, I see a single sliver of light cut through the black and over the red lake. I lay there weak, in pain, and cuffed in this black abyss, this moldy-reeking pit, in more pain than I can describe, and I'm not blind. Oh, joyous day. It was only a small sliver though, a tease of light. Still couldn't tell where I was. I was on my left side, and still truing to spit blood out of my mouth. My chewed-up tongue was all sorts of swollen, and much too big for my mouth.



Footsteps. Finally a sound besides my own labored breathing. It felt like forever had passed, but in reality it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. I moaned and gurgled, but not in hope. I don't know how I knew, but I knew it was the one that did this to me. I never saw those feet pass in front of my vision, but I heard them coming closer. I gurgled in feared protest, and without warning, I felt my scalp sting. My hair was yanked back savagely, my head pulled so far back and hard, my eyes teared up. Mouth agape, I shifted my legs and hated that flash of pain that came along with it.



Grind, Grind.



One of my last clear thoughts was that I swore they were pulling my hair out.



Slice. I felt the sharp blade drag through and across my exposed throat like margarine. I felt my skin separate from itself in the blade's wake, and blood spurt across that sliver of teasing light. I wondered if this person purposely waited for me to wake up. I felt the blade finish its path, and my head drop to the floor noisily. CLUNK, like a dead car battery. Another tear drips from my left eye to land on top of my freshly pouring blood made visible by that damn light. I felt myself choke and gurgle, my head laying back awkwardly. I never heard any sound from the phantom cutter except for their even breathing. The last thing I saw before meeting the end was my saline tears marbling and flowing through that thick red blood, and staining pristine white tile beneath.