Chapter 11: Chapter 11: Suffering

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. - Kahlil Gibran

The combined sterile smell of alcohol and bleach fills the air. Staring into the dark, I'm afraid to move.

God, get a grip. Don't wimp out.

Darkness can't inflict pain or suffering. But it's not the dark I'm afraid of. It's who it now conceals in the shadows.

Keys jingle and clang. My body tenses then shakes.

After a momentary pause, the door swings open, and John Spencer enters the room.

I retreat to the twin-size bed in the far side of the room. Scooting upward on the mattress, I press my back flat against the wall.

"Hello, Sarah." John Spencer smirks. "I'm glad you're awake."

"What do you want?"

"Your cooperation, as well as Vlad's."

I level my chin and square my shoulders, I struggle to maintain my composure.