Tale Of The White Collared Zombies

The first sensation Steve was aware of, was a cool, hard surface pressed to his cheek. He opened his eyes a small portion, in case someone were watching, then allowed them to open the remainder of the way when he deemed it safe.

Obviously, someone had intended to hold him captive. He was in a cell, with apparently sturdy walls made of cement bricks. Paired with the cold, cement floor, it gave the cell, with it's open, barred front, a rather dreary feel. Much like a rainy day when you intended to play baseball.

He rose to his feet, and was suddenly aware of an excruciating crick in his neck. He stretched it gingerly, observing the front of the cell. Perhaps he could pick the lock, and escape. That was if there were no guards, and if any outer doors were unlocked for him to escape. He dug into his pocket, and much to his surprise, found his wallet. He drew a credit card from a slot, and returned the wallet to his pocket as he approached the lock. The card slid easily between the wall and the door, and he lifted it so that it struck an inner piece of the lock, and wriggled it. Surprisingly, the lock clicked and the door slid a fraction of an inch at it's release.

He stepped cautiously into the barren hallway, seeing no one, and letting out a breath of relief. He had made it this far without anything detering him. Of course, 'this far', wasn't very far at all.

He started towards a door, which obviously led to the outside, with high hopes. As his hand encompassed the brass knob, his blood seemed to turn to ice. A scream echoed through the cement building, a bloodcurdling scream that turned the room cold. He released the knob, looking towards the only other door in the room. Some poor soul needed help. Help that only a small portion of him was willing to give. That small portion was large enough to turn him and drive him to the other door, open it and step through into the dimly lit, entirely cement hall way. He listened for noises, and heard nothing.

Annoyed, he turned to return to his escape route. He was quickly interupted by the metallic sound of a steel door slamming. A cold chill ran through him. Someone was here.

"-Can't believe that Slivinski girl is still alive." footsteps echoed, getting quieter. They were walking away from him. Yes, they. There were obviously more than one of them.

"Especially after all Fargus has done to her. Her wrists... god, that was disgusting. And after he cut her hair, I thought she was going to snap."

The scream must've been this 'Slivinski girl', Steve concluded. And someone is torturing her, for some sort of information.