Imogen clutched her arms around her tighter, trying to keep warm.

She’d attempted to meditate but hadn’t been able to clear her mind. Not until she let her thoughts meander where they wanted to—when she saw Gunner’s face—was she able to find some semblance of rest. Only then had she been able to fall asleep in the corner in spite of the horrible milky-eyed dead things staring at her.

She dreamt of Gunner, but that time, it wasn’t of a sexual nature. Instead, he was speaking words of encouragement and hope.

“Don’t give in to them, Imogen. Fight!

You can and will survive this.

I’ll be there soon, baby. Hold on a little bit longer.

We’re gonna be so happy together. This is just a bump in our road.

Remember our night of bliss, baby. When it gets difficult, go there. Be in my arms and find peace.

Don’t worry about the things in the room. They can’t hurt you.”

When she awoke, she didn’t know if it were her own brain, or some other force, sending images of him to her, but she didn’t care. Whatever caused it had brought her comfort, and for that, she was grateful.

During her slumber, someone had brought a tray with food and water and set it just inside the door. She remembered what they’d said about the blood moon being in a week, and judging from the hushed and reverent tones she’d heard in their voices as they looked at her, she was certain that they didn’t intend to kill her yet.

Still, she sniffed the tomato and mozzarella on wheat sandwich and the water, but she didn’t detect anything amiss. She decided to risk a taste, so she swallowed a small bite and then waited for any pains or sluggishness that would portend poison or drugs. At least, that was what she’d seen in the movies.

After a few minutes, nothing happened, but she opted to open the bag of chips, anyway. Her stomach grumbled, wanting meat.

As she chomped on them, she took a long draught of the water and then thought better of it, deciding to ration it. There was no way to know when or if she would get more, and she didn’t have any facilities to use. Looking around, she figured she’d have to relieve herself in one of the corners in the room.

While she thought about eating a T-bone steak and carving into it, her eyes wandered back to the bodies.

Oh, my God! A knife! Maybe one is buried in that pile... or something else you can use as a weapon!

As she steeled herself for what she was about to do, she wondered how her captors would respond if they caught her.

It’s not like they’re gonna sacrifice you before the big night. Could be your chance to escape when they open the door. You’re not going down without a fight! Pacifism be damned!

With no other option than to start working her way through the bodies, she stood, took a deep breath, and then jogged in place, as she tried to psych herself up.

You can do this! You have to! Detach, Imogen. Go somewhere else in your mind. Do it!

When she felt like she was in the right head space, she approached the first one, a nude woman with slits along her femoral and carotid arteries. Dried blood was in lines down her legs, and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Shuddering, and breathing through her mouth to lessen her perception of the stench that was rising in the air from the shifting bodies, Imogen moved her over and went to the next. It was a male, and she noticed that he hadn’t been totally disrobed prior to his death. He was heavy, and she had to use her leg strength and arms to turn him over to check for anything of use.

All the women, it seemed, had been executed in the same manner, but the men had been bled out from their necks only. She thought that perhaps they’d put up a stronger fight than the females, and the carotid arteries were the easiest for Terrance to slice.

At the end of Imogen’s struggle, she hadn’t found any type of weapon, so she put the bodies back as they had been before, using her remaining strength. She then returned to her corner, as she’d come to think of it. Slumping into it, she curled her arms around her bent knees, and her mind went back to her psychology class in college.

This is how people get broken down. They’re isolated. They grow to depend on their captors for their survival, and they’re slowly taught to accept what is required of them.

Well, screw that! They’ve got another thing coming, because this girl is not gonna comply with their plans.