Alright guys, here's a sneak peak at the first chapter. I can only leave this up for 24 hours, so get it while it's hot! This isn't the final so there may be grammar issue here or there.

Chapter One

Immersed in total darkness, deprived of human contact, chained and afraid; : this is how Jess, Mary and Fred spent their days. Had it been a day, a week, or possibly worse yet, mere hours since they were they thrown into prison? Without being able to see the sun or even its reflection, time was a relative thing to the women. Only the irregular checks the staff performed on them broke the monotonous routine.

Jess lay on the cold concrete floor, her hands clamped between her legs to try and keep them warm. The darkness was so complete that only by blinking her eyes could she even tell if they were open. Despite her current situation, she didn’t regret the decision that landed her here. Given a chance she would do it all over again, without hesitation. The only thing that she felt bad about was that her friends were also detained. She now spent her time trying to think herself out of her predicament.

Mary was not faring nearly as well as Jess. She was in a word, broken. Absent now were her cries and wails that had filled the halls. Her outbursts drew immediate reprisals from her jailers; their methods of punishment ranged from hosing down with cold water to the punishment she was now suffering—having a rag stuffed into her mouth, held in place with duct tape. Her low pitiful moans were nearly inaudible beyond the walls of her cell.

Fred, unlike her companions, was not idle. She had surveyed the entirety of her cell to the extent her chained hands would allow. Crawling on the floor, she ran her hand along the walls’ edge, starting at the door and working her way all the way around. She then used her body, keeping her head at the wall to search the center of the room. The only thing she found in the room was a bucket, its purpose obvious. Once she completed the search of the floor she stood up and went around the walls. With her hands chained to her waist, Fred could only raise her hands chest- high. The walls were bare, she determined, the door the only feature she found.

The three were subject to random checks by the staff, some encounters more abusive than others, depending on the guard. Of the methods used to punish them, the worst was the spotlight. At random, they would be ordered to stand and recite their name and ID number as a bright light was shined on their faces. The incredible intensity of light on their eyes after so many hours of complete darkness was painful. After these checks, a white orb was burned into vision. Tears would run down their faces after these checks, their eyes watering uncontrollably.

Whenever a door would open, the women all experienced the same emotional response: panic. All three of them, despite their best efforts, would feel the rise in their pulse, increase in breathing and despite the cold, the dampness on their foreheads, when anyone entered the door. Without the use of sight, they could rely only on their hearing. They would listen as boots scuffed and crunched the sand on the concrete floor as their tormentors moved down the row of cells. Upon hearing the door open, they would get to their feet and prepare to deliver the information demanded. The faster they could recite their ID’s, the quicker they would be left in darkness again. As bad as the blackness was, it was preferable to the torments they suffered in the light.

When they were first entered the jail, they were dressed in jumpsuits. With the waist chain restraining their hands, they could not get out of them to relieve themselves. All three urinated on themselves, though each managed with great effort not to defecate. At some point, hours, days, they didn’t know, their cell doors were opened one by one. They were ordered to kneel down, and their hands and feet were freed. Male officers then ordered them to strip, and they were thrown a smock and a pair of pants. After this humiliation—the officers of course felt free to make comments about them as they undressed—they were again chained and left in their cells. This at least allowed them to relieve themselves. It was the only humane treatment they would receive.

They were fed once a day via a bowl slid in through a smaller door near the floor, and with each meal, a sixteen ounce water bottle was given to them. At the same time, their buckets would be exchanged for an empty one. No word was ever said to them, though Fred was beginning to think the person bringing their food and taking the buckets was a civilian worker. Those footsteps were not as loud as the ones from whoever shone the light in their faces. They sounded softer, more like sneakers. That, compounded by the fact that there was little chance the DHS goons would handle the buckets, made her confident in her opinion.

At this point in time, the three women had barely been able to communicate with each other. Fear of reprisals from their jailers kept them silent for the most part, though they did risk it on occasion. Usually after a meal was brought they would wait for a while then check on one another. Little was said other than, are you guys okay? Answered with hushed whispers of yes, you? On this particular day, their routine was shaken up. From outside the jail, voices could be heard. This was certainly out of the norm. Fred and Jess both sat up, listening intently to the obvious struggle going on just outside the building. The door opened and the shouts of several voices poured in.

“Get his arm!”

“Hold him, hold him!”

“I’ll kill you sons-a-bitches!”

From the sounds of the scuffle on the concrete, there was a hell of a fight taking place. Fred pressed her ear to the door, while Jess stood in the center of her cell, her eyes closed, listening intently.

“Dad! Dad!”

“Shane, where are you?”

“Shut up!” Another voice shouted.

One of the men let out a guttural growl, the sounds of the scuffle growing nearer as bodies crashed into the walls and floor. A sickening slapping sound filled the building, followed immediately by a scream of pain. Fred cocked her head side to side. There was a pop and the unmistakable sound of a Taser.

“He broke my nose, you son of a bitch!” A voice shouted, “Move!”

The Taser was still clacking when dull thuds were added to the noise.

“Dad! Get off him, mother fucker! Get off him!”

The thuds stopped. “You want some! You little bastard!” The shout was followed by a yelp, then more thuds and groans. “I’ll teach you fuckers a lesson!” The man shouted again. The sound of someone gagging now rose up, echoing off the walls.

“What are you gonna do now, huh!” The gagging continued.

“Get off him Reese, he’s had enough. Get off, you’re gonna kill him.”

“Good! They need to be killed!”

“Yeah, well not yet.” Fred could hear someone moving around, pacing. “Pour some water on him, wake him up.”

Fred and Jess listened as the two men were dragged past their cells and dropped into their own. Both men were moaning and coughing. The doors were slammed shut and the officers, several of them from the sound of it, walked towards the door.

“I can’t believe he broke my fricken nose.”

“I can’t believe the old guy was able to knock you over and kick you like that. That’s a tough ole bastard.”

The comment got a chuckle from the others.

“Yeah, lot of help you assholes were!”

“Whatever, you’ll live, you just better hope that kid can talk when the interrogators show up,” one of them said as the door slammed shut .

Silence closed in around them again. Fred listened intently for any sounds from the new additions to their personal hell. Jess was likewise listening. During the commotion, Mary had finally gotten the urge to fight again. It took a lot of effort, but she managed to pull the tape from her mouth and spit the rag out. Her mouth was dry as chalk and her throat hurt from the lack of moisture. She sat up against the wall and let out a sigh.

In the darkness a voice croaked, “Dad? Dad, are you alright?” Shane coughed.

He was answered only by a grunt.

“Dad? Was that you, are you here? I can’t see shit, it’s so damn dark.”