A horrible scraping sound wakes me from where I am snoozing on my bed. From the light coming in from the window, I would say it was about midday. Then a there is another scraping sound, and a clunk, followed by a little splashing sound. I sit up. On the floor beside the open hatch are a plate of bread and butter, an apple, and a glass of water. I hurry over and stuff the four slices of bread. I gulp the water and attack the apple, whittling it down to just a slim core in a matter of seconds. I place them back on the floor by the hatch and watch with interest, clutching my now full stomach. 

A gloved hand darts in and grabs the plate - which now only holds the browning apple core - and the empty cup. Then it pulls them out and the grate is slid back across, the sound making me clap my hands over my ears with disgust. 

Some half an hour later, I hear footsteps approaching the room where I am held again. The door opens, and the man who found me awake on the metal table enters the room. 

"Come." He says simply. I do, feeling somehow that I have no choice in the matter. First he takes me to the room with the metal table. I cringe away from the thick, black straps. "Sit." He says, pointing at the metal table. He applies some salve to my bruises, making them sting and itch. Then he begins to peel off the bandages that encase my lower legs. I stare.

My shins are covered in a series of  gashes and scrapes, most of which are sewn up, meaning they must have been deep. He applies the salve to them too, and then winds the bandages around my legs again, stopping, of course, at the knee. He does the same to my arms, which are also covered in jagged, criss-crossing, sewn-up cuts. He leaves the bandages that encircle my chest, maybe because they have no blood-stains on them, but also because I have a strange feeling that bandages were the best top they could think of for a young woman. 

"Come." He says again. I expect him to lead me back to my room, but instead he takes me in the opposite direction. A shiver runs down my spine. I have a bad feeling about this...

The End

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