The rest of the town closed early for Halloween, and most of the residents keep to their own streets, mingling and trick-or-treating. All of this makes Chimera look deserted, and if I’m honest, haunted. I fight the urge to turn around and go back home. Thinking back to my original plans for the evening, I take a deep breath, muster some courage, and open the door. The scent of musty books and strong coffee hit me as soon as I step over the threshold. Coming in from the cold and rain, the change in temperature inside the shop instantly warms me, and I remove my jacket, hooking it over my arm.
“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice calls out, sounding none too friendly.
“A customer?” I’m not sure what else I should say as I awkwardly move through the shelves trying to locate the store’s owner. I trip over something in my path and look down at an orange cat, weaving its way around my feet.
“Well hello there, kitty.” I lean down and pet the long-haired fluffball who flips himself upside down, purring against my leg.
“Zeus,” the same voice calls out to me, this time sounding closer. “His name is Zeus, after the god?” Her statement ends as a question. I guess she assumes I know nothing about Greek mythology.
I stand up and run into a woman I assume is the store owner. Her head hits my chest, and her wild, grey curls are all I can see.
“Excuuuusseee me,” she snarls as she steps away from me and bends down to pick up Zeus. She straightens back up, her eyes scanning my face. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” She turns around with her cat, not waiting for an answer as she makes her way back behind the register. I follow her and stand in front of the counter while she gets herself situated in a red, overstuffed chair. She sets her cat down next to her, on a pet bed perched on a side table.
“That’s quite the set-up you have there,” I blurt out, not really knowing what else to say, but feeling the need to fill the silence.
“Well, I live right above the shop in a small apartment and am always down here tinkering around, so I figured I might as well be comfortable,” she says and looks up to me after she gets settled, an air of impatience on her face.
“So, I, uh, decided to come down here and find a book, maybe some coffee,” I begin to babble and once I start, I can’t seem to stop the words pouring from my mouth. “My boyfriend broke up with me and left me for some bitch named Samantha. I guess he needs someone better to show off to his parents.” I take a breath and just keep on going for some reason. “I guess he’s done with petite blondes and needed a long-legged, slutty, brunette in his life. So, I need a good romance novel and a spot to just sit and lose myself for a bit.” I slap my hand over my mouth in an effort to shut-up my own self. It’s not surprising that the shop owner looks at me with disdain and a little bit of curiosity on her face.
“What did you say your name was again?” She stands up and makes her away around the counter, placing her hand on my arm.
“Uhh, I didn’t,” I mumble before answering. “It’s Rowen.”
“Well, Rowen, I think I have just the book for you.” She starts walking through the maze of bookshelves, Zeus following close behind.
I stand there for a few seconds, wondering if I should follow or stay.
“Are you coming, Rowen?” She asks, and I swear I hear a hint of laughter in her voice.
After maneuvering through several sections of the store, I find it opens up to a courtyard of sorts. Several couches and tables sit in the clearing between the shelves, a coffee and expresso maker set up on a display in one corner, with a table of cookies and other various snacks sitting on a long table against another wall. A sigh of relief escapes me; this looks like the perfect place to help get me out of my funk and allow me to escape for a little while. The store owner returns to the courtyard from where she’d disappeared somewhere in the back. She carries a book in her hand, which she holds out to me.
“My name’s Adeline,” she tells me as I take the book from her. “Enjoy this story. I promise it will provide just the escape you seek.
She walks off, leaving me holding the book and Zeus winding through my legs once again. I make myself a coffee and pick an oversized grey chair to sit in, propping my legs on the equally large ottoman. After getting situated and sinking into the depths of the most comfortable chair my ass has ever sat in, I pick up the book and look at the cover.
The title is “Dark Reverie” and features a silhouette of a woman with a dark town behind her. The woman and the spooky, shadowy landscape could almost pass as me and Shadowbrook. I chuckle to myself as I crack open the book and begin to read the first page.
CHAPTER TWO
Blinking my groggy eyes open, I come to, waking up with my mouth so dry I can barely swallow. What the fuck happened? My head pounds with the worst headache imaginable, and I'm lying in bed unable to remember how I got here. Actually, I can't remember a damn thing. I wrack my brain, searching for some hint of a memory. Did I go out last night? Did I get drunk? I don’t even remember going anywhere. I try to rub the sleep from my eyes, but something weighs my hand down. Looking closer I see something around my wrist and attached by chain to the wall.
I scramble upright quickly and rub my eyes with my free hand, trying to wake up my mind and check out my surroundings. Giving my arm a violent tug, I try to free it from the bindings that hold me in place. I yank so hard, I feel my skin start to bruise, and I realize all that I will accomplish is hurting myself. My chain has some slack, so I scoot off the end of the bed to see how far I can travel within the limit of my restraints. A dim stream of light from the hallway allows for only limited visibility. Certain parts of the room remained in darkness. I make it a few feet before the chain halts any additional progress, and I see a barred cell door. It looks old, similar to something I’d seen in my tour of Alcatraz a few summers ago.
Once my eyes adjust to the low lighting, I take a moment to look around the room and can make out the faintest of details. My prison cell looks small, only about ten by ten feet. On the bed where I woke up lays a dirty sheet and a thin mattress on its black metal frame. Another bed on the other side of the room appears in much the same condition as mine. I bring my arm up to my face to examine my bindings again. I’m secured to the brick wall with handcuffs. Shackles, actually. They’re old, rusty, and look nothing like modern handcuffs. They look almost vintage, like something out of an eighteenth- century jail cell. Grabbing the slack in the chain, I put all my weight into pulling on it, willing it to break. After a few minutes I give up and drop to the ground in frustration. All I achieve is hurting my wrist and shoulder. As I begin to cry, I pull my wrist against the bindings a few more times, a last-ditch effort at trying to free myself.
“Don’t bother, they won’t break,” a deep voice sounds from across the room.
I use my sleeve to wipe away my tears and turn to search the darkness in the direction I think the voice came from. I didn’t see anyone there a second ago - not on the other bed, at least.
“Who’s there?” I ask quietly, not sure I want an answer. All of this is too crazy, and I feel like it’s all some kind of dream. “That’s it, I must be dreaming” I whisper to myself, feeling a bit better now that I’ve figured out the mystery of my predicament.
“It’s not a dream, sweetheart,” the man replies.
I search the darkness, trying to put a face to the stranger’s voice. I hear the clinking of metal as someone begins to move, and a man makes his way out of the dark corner of the cell into the dim light shining in from the hallway. He sits down a few feet from me, with his back against his own bed.
“The chains are magically charged.” He looks into my eyes as he speaks, and I wait with bated breath to hear what he has to say next. “I’ve been here for months, at least I think that’s how long it’s been,” he says, rubbing his unshackled hand over his face.
The lamp from the hallway casts a faint light across his features, and I can’t help but stare in surprise. Despite the dirt covering him from head to toe, and his tattered, filthy clo
thes, he’s gorgeous. His black hair is shaggy, evident it’s grown out during his time here, and a short, scraggly beard covers his face.
He glances up as I’m checking him out, and I swear I see a hint of a smile spread across his face. But his good looks aren’t what has me drawn to him, unable to stop gaping in his direction. It’s his eyes. They’re blue, though not the normal, dull color blue like my own eyes. Bright blue, like the ocean, and they’re glowing. I don’t mean sparkling either, but they’re actually glowing in the dark. A faint light seems to emanate from behind them as his gaze locks onto mine. I can’t look away. No matter how hard I try, I physically cannot break our connection. His voice snaps me out of my stupor, but I’ve no idea what he just said.
“Wha…what did you say,” I mumble like a fucking lovestruck teenager. Hopefully he chalks up my weird behavior to having just woken up in a dark dungeon, shackled to a bed, with my only companion a godlike man with glowing blue eyes. I must be dreaming. There’s simply no other explanation.
A deep laugh rumbles in his chest, and the sound warms me. It makes me forget, just for a moment, the cold air of the room seeping into my skin.
“Where did you come from?” He rubs his face again, and I hear the roughness of his hands scrub against the short beard on his face.
I wonder for a second what those rough hands would feel like against my skin and give myself a physical shake, so I can focus on our conversation. I swear, he has some type of unnatural effect on me. I’m never enamored with someone this fast, especially not given our circumstances.
“I’ve absolutely no idea where I came from,” I blurt out before I lose my nerve. “I was hoping you could tell me, because I’m having a hard time remembering anything from before I woke up here,” I pause to allow him to respond. I see him lean back against his bed, hooking his hands behind his head, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“That’s the magic,” he explains like that should make complete sense to me. “They take away our memories before throwing us in these cells. You may remember bits and pieces of how you got here, or what you were doing before, but it will feel like a wall has been placed in your mind.”
He sits back up again as though he’s restless before he continues. He’s moved around a ton in the little bit of time since we met, and I can only imagine what all of this solitude will do to a man.
“Let me guess?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Your head hurts and it feels like a fog settled over your mind?”
“How’d you know?” I wonder aloud, and I feel the tears start to fall again. I try to search my brain, but just like he said, it’s like something prevents me from seeing the memories that are right there. I want to reach out and grab them, but they’re just far enough away to make that impossible.
“I’ve been exactly where you are right now,” he says in a kind voice, leaning closer to me. He’s probably trying to get a better look at me in the darkness of our prison.
His eyes begin to glow again, and I, too, shift forward to try to get a better look. “I’ve been here for a few months,” he continues. “I think, anyway. I don’t really have any concept of time down here.”
“Why do they do that?” I interject, completely changing the subject. “Why do your eyes light up sometimes?”
I wait for him to tell me I’m crazy or imagining things. That wouldn’t be too far-fetched an explanation given everything else going on around me right now. I woke up in a cell, chained to a bed, with a glowing-eyed, gorgeous man as a bunkmate. I can’t remember a damn thing that happened before ending up here or where I came from. Maybe I drank too much, and this is all a nightmare. That could explain away most of my physical symptoms, at least. I’m probably lying in my room somewhere, mouth open, drooling in a drunken state.
My question must have freaked him out, because rather than answering, he gets up and lies down on his bed. Great, I’ve pissed off the only companion I have down here. He’s my only hope at finding some answers and maybe getting the hell out of this dungeon. Real great, Rowe. I head back to my bed, sit down, and prop up against the wall. A long silence descends upon our tiny prison, and my eyes grow heavy as I sit in the dark room.
“What’s your name?” my neighbor asks just as I’ve started to fall asleep.
“Rowen,” I whisper, not sure if he can hear me. “My friends call me Rowe.”
“My name’s Mekhi,” the man replies, and I barely hear him as I drift off. “It’s nice to meet you, Rowen.”
CHAPTER THREE
The sound of bars closing and metal scraping against the floor wakes me, and for a second, I’ve forgotten where I am. I was in the middle of the strangest dream about an orange cat and an old lady. She was speaking to me, but I couldn’t make out the words. I kept trying to understand what she was saying, but no sound was coming from her mouth. Every time I tried to speak to her, my mouth wouldn’t open. The frustration from my dream carries over to my waking state.
“Lunchtime, Rowen.” Mekhi gestures towards the floor where I see two trays, each with a cup and some food. “Could be dinner, I guess,” he corrects himself. “Again, there’s no way to judge the passage of time down here, and the food never really changes.”
The rumbling of my stomach draws me down to the floor to examine the meal that’s been offered. I pick up the tray, smell the food, and my immediate response is to throw it down again.
“Uggghh, what is that?” The scent is reminiscent of the mystery meat Wednesdays from my high school days and the awful shepherd’s pie my aunt used to make. Did I just recall something? “Hey, I can remember. I have an aunt, I think. I remember high school,” I continue talking, even though I’m not sure Mekhi is even listening to me.
“That happens sometimes,” Mekhi responds, and I realize he’s right next to me, digging into his own tray. “Smells and sounds can sometime trigger your memory.” He takes a big drink from the metal cup on his tray before continuing. “Sometimes your reality will come to you in your dreams.” He looks up at me, a glimmer of blue flaring in his eyes before he turns away to finish his food.
“How can you eat that?” I question, not bothering to hide my disgust. “I can’t even smell it without wanting to puke.”
“Oh, you’ll eat anything when you get hungry enough, trust me.” He takes his cup and scoots back against the wall. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it, and this-” he gestures towards me with the cup, “is just water.”
My lips suddenly feel dryer than the Sahara Desert. I scramble to grab the cup off the tray and bring it to my mouth, drinking the water in long gulps. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious. I peek up over the brim of my cup and see Mekhi smiling. I’m sure I look like a freak, guzzling down the water, all while squatting on the floor.
“Sorry,” he says softly in a kind voice, “I don’t mean to look amused.” He takes a drink of his own and lets out a short, sexy laugh. “It’s just good to see you satisfied.”
I choke on my water which triggers a coughing fit, and Mekhi makes a move to get up and assist me. Putting my hand up, I let him know I’m okay. “I’m fine, really,” I speak once I can find my voice again. “Your choice of words is sometimes a bit…”
“Flirty? Sexy?” A playful smirk is plastered on his face. “Hot?”
“I was going to say old-fashioned.” My face flushes with a mixture of humiliation and wantonness as I sense Mekhi’s stare on my body. I chance a look up and am met with his intense gaze. The blue glow within his eyes seems stronger, brighter that I’ve seen yet. I’m not able to look away, and I feel a physical reaction to him. A warm sensation spreads throughout my body. The best way I can think to describe what occurs is a seduction by pure strength of will. I can’t break the connection between us, not while he holds me transfixed with the penetrating gaze of his. It’s almost as if my body recognizes his, and it wants, needs him. Which makes absolutely no sense given the fact we met less than twenty-four hours ago. “What’s
happening?” I murmur without severing the link between us.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he admits quietly, his stare becoming even more intense. “Since I woke up in this room, I feel different.” He searches my face, looking for permission to continue.
I give a small nod to let him know I need to hear more.
“I feel on fire most of the time. Like my skin is vibrating.” He reaches out and touches me as he speaks, rubbing his fingers up and down my forearms, causing goosebumps to break out all over my body. “I feel like there’s something inside of me, trying to break free.” He stops at my hands and takes them in his own. “Whatever magic binds the chains to our arms, also binds whatever is inside of me, preventing it from escaping.
“What do you think it is?” I question as I slip my hands out of his, the physical connection becoming too strong to handle. My body hums with a power that seems to volley between the two of us.
“I have no idea, Rowen.” He looks down, breaking our connection and I’m left feeling cold and alone. “I just know whatever it is, it might be the key to getting us out of here.”
CHAPTER FOUR
We spend the next few days in almost the exact same routine. We’re served three meals a day by our mysterious captors. Sometimes we sit on the floor, sometimes on our beds. There’s nothing else to do but talk, therefore I learn a lot about Mekhi.
Through his dreams and a few memories, he’s discovered a few things that may be part of his true reality. He has a sister who is waiting for him. She sometimes tries to reach him in his dreams, and he gets frustrated when he can’t go to her. He has recurring memories of a motorcycle accident. He remembers the rainy weather and hearing the sirens and seeing the lights of an ambulance, but he’s not sure if they’re real memories or not.
I haven’t remembered much since I awoke in this chilly, musty, and damp hell. I still dream of an old woman and a cat. Twice now, I’ve remembered a man who has hurt me. Every time I dream of him, I wake in tears and Mekhi jumps up, stretching the limit of his chains to try to comfort me. During our talks, my eyes sometimes find his.
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