A shiver ran over her spine, but she ignored the fear she felt and her hand reached to open the door.
Hit by a wave of a musty scent, Alice flinched when the door creaked open. Max hadn’t been lying about the lack of light, but the dim flicker she saw drew her down that first step, her curiosity growing more intense when the first hint of sound met her ears.
"Scream all you want. Nobody will hear you. Although, I prefer that you stop."
It was Max’ voice she heard, but the sound was wrong and she realized it couldn’t have been him that had spoken.
Another step down, the board creaking beneath her foot, she paused to listen to the voice that was distant and flat.
A scream erupted next, feminine and terrified, but it didn’t have the volume Alice would have expected if a woman were down there hidden in the depths of the dusky shadows.
“Are you done? Or will you continue going until you pass out?”
Definitely Max’ voice, amusement and humor evident in his eerily calm tone.
"Who -"
"Stop talking."
"Please," A woman begged, "let me go. I won't -"
Max laughed, the sound soft before he answered, "You know, it's always the same - in real life as well as in entertainment. It never ceases to amaze me how the same lines are used in movies: Please let me go. I won't tell. I'll keep this a secret. They never change the script, and even when it actually happens, people follow the same typical path. What do the victims expect to happen when they beg? That they'll be let go? That the person who took them will respond: oh sure, here let me loosen those ties, and would you also like my name to take to the police? Perhaps a copy of my driver's license would be helpful?'"
Max paused, a resigned sigh filling the dark room. "I'm sorry, beautiful, but that won't be happening this time. Save your breath."
Alice tipped her head to the side, as if the angle would help her understand what she was hearing. The play of light flickered from around the corner, and if she could just take one more step, she’d be able to see what caused the sound.
The risk at that point far outweighed the threat of her husband’s anger, so Alice took that one last step.
The board beneath her foot broke and she fell forward to crash against the dusty floor.
*
It was disorienting, the ephemeral glow of fractured light, filthy windows lining the top of a room, her exposed skin practically frozen against a floor as cold as ice. Blinking open her eyes, Alice watched the barren walls morph and bend around her, the ability to focus on any one thing stolen by her confusion.
Where am I? Alice thought, her head pounding and her body thrumming with pain. Pushing herself up, she looked around the darkened room trying to remember where she was and how she’d arrived there.
Damp and dirty, the room was unfamiliar. A destitute place with crumbling plaster walls and a sickening stench of mildew and filth. Everything was out of focus, not one object settling within its own perimeter lines.
“Hello, wife.”
Max’ voice, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t happy. A shiver ran over her spine at the pure menace in his tone.
Ignoring the terror that crippled her, she attempted to speak calmly to soothe the beast that she knew had risen to the surface of her husband. "I can't see you, Max. Where are you? At least show your face."
No response, no noise, nothing.
He stepped into view after a minute, but only so much that Alice could see his silhouette, a dark shadow in contrast to broken and dirt filtered light.
“Why did you come down here? Especially since I’ve warned you so many times before. Dark places are dangerous for women like you.” He paused, his voice dropping to a bare whisper. “Or don’t you know that already?”
Her head fell back against the wall where her body was leaning. She winced in pain at that soft contact. “I wanted to know what you do down here all day,” she explained.
Max laughed, the tone cruel and ill-humored.
"Is that what you want? To know your monster?"
Seeing her husband, knowing he was real and not an illusion cast by a frightened and disorganized mind didn't help Alice in the slightest.
Unable to peel her eyes from the form of his body, she watched silently as he sat down in a chair she hadn't noticed before, the wood feet scraping against the cold, concrete floor.
"Where do we go from here, Alice? Now that you’ve stumbled upon a place where you were never invited?"
Shaking her head, she regretted the movement instantly. Her tongue ran over the film on her teeth, her voice laced with the pain she was feeling. “I don’t know, Max. That depends on what I heard when I was coming down here.”
Silence for several moments, and then, “Would you like something to drink?”
Calm, collected, even kind, the voice broke through the sticky film of darkness across Alice's senses.
She laughed at the odd question, her throat as gritty as coarse sandpaper. "Depends on what you're offering."