Just as I decided to get their attention I heard number two say, “…witch… him…” With my head still a little hazy and the fact that I wasn’t in the best position to hear the pair of goons I started a debate with myself over what I thought I had heard. I very much doubted that I had really heard “witch,” as in flying broomstick and all. I must have heard wrong, they had said something else.
“…the other witch…” There is was again, but this time I had no idea who said it as I was losing track of their different voices. The surety that I had embraced a moment ago was vanishing like ice thrown into a furnace. And as my assurance ebbed, a cold sense of dread began to grow. I must have heard right, those two goons were talking about a witch. Without the objections I would have expected to hear from men in their profession I was left assuming that they really did believe in witches, or at least one of them did. If they truly believed in witchcraft, I was left to assume that they had, at some point or another, witnessed real magic, or at least seen someone like me. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place as I realized that Dempsey currently had someone like me on his payroll.
Unfortunately, what I could do was often mistaken for magic, and in a way, I suppose that made sense. If I didn’t know about what I could do, I would consider it to be magic. If I had a dollar for every time that Matt called me a wizard, I would be set for life. Never having ever met anyone like me, I had always assumed that I was the only one with my special talents. I mean, I had read stories about them, once you read between the lines a little you can see people like me in the stories. Now the question was, how did Dempsey manage to have one on his payroll? I began to wonder if this so called “witch” was the one responsible for my confinement; after all, it made a certain amount of sense.
But why would this witch be interested in me? Had she thought that she was unique in this world like I had? If she did was she jealous of her lost uniqueness? Would they hand me over to her? Would I become a living experiment for her or Dempsey? My mind started running through some pretty awful scenarios. I was glad that I was thinking about these things before meeting my captors. It allowed me to work out my fear before I actually saw anyone—to ready my poker face—at least that was what I told myself.
Sitting there in the dank, cold room I continued trying to connect the dots from everything I had heard or experienced. Dempsey either employed or had a solid relationship with a female who shared my gift. My guess was they had a pretty solid relationship. My bonds and the IV spoke to just how entwined they were, there was no other explanation as to why I was so well locked down. And of course that brought up a question about Dempsey. Was he a real believer in witchcraft or did he simply refer to her as a witch to keep his men in line? Not that either was really important to me at this juncture. All that currently mattered was, because of this woman—and I was just assuming it was a woman, I suppose it could be a man—Dempsey, and by extension all of his goons, knew how to detain me.
I had to get out of here. Preferably in one piece. So I decided now was as good a time as any to call out to my captors. “Hey, anyone there?” I didn’t yell that loudly, but based on the cessation of their conversation, the goons must have heard me. Maybe there was a microphone in here so they could stay nice and warm outside of the freezer
I was beginning to wish that I had remained silent when I heard the freezer’s door open, I had been right and it had been closed after all. I heard someone’s footfall as they made their way toward me, make that two someones. Once they were probably within striking distance, they stopped. They just stood there behind me, waiting, which of course prompted my fear to bubble up. Despite being ready for someone to make a move, I wasn’t ready for this particular one. So, when my head was grabbed from behind I just about had a heart attack. Amazingly my heart didn’t actually quit pumping blood throughout my body, which was helpful since a massive dose of adrenaline went along for the ride. As that little gift was sent coursing through my veins I was forced to look up into the fairly bright light in the ceiling.
I guess the goon was waiting for the adrenaline to do its job because he simply held me there for a moment or two. He started speaking only when he saw that my eyes had become truly alert. “It looks like our guest of honor is finally awake.”
I could safely say that I really didn’t like the fact that number two was as smart in person as he had seemed through the snatches of conversation I had been able to catch. I could now clearly hear the thickly layered accent on the man. He was definitely from overseas, at least, I could tell French was his first language. Okay, I was only guessing, but it seemed like a good one given my circumstances.
A chuckle issued from the other guard’s mouth. “The boss will be happy to hear that.” He replied.
Now that I was being given a bit more of their attention I was beginning to have second thoughts about calling out for it. But since their focus was now on me, I figured that blacking out, or at least pretending to black out, would only make matters worse. I decided to risk asking for a source of warmth, forcing my teeth to chatter just a little I tried to ask my question. “I’m freezing…”