Vanished for Torture

Chapter 1 - Cressida

The Autumn sunset was a beautiful sight. One that young Cressida always enjoyed. She mostly found it inspirational, for art, but first as a photo. Cressida was studying Fine Art and Photography at her school, Bearon Academy. It was a school for those with a keen eye for masterpieces of the artistic world, in which Cressida was considered an honour student. Her work was what represented the Academy at its finest. There is no way she could let the school down, as they depended partly on her artistic instinct. Yes, Cressida also represents the school in national competitions, along with a few other students. It was very rarely Bearon Academy did not place first.
Cressida opened her handbag, pulling out her camera. But where best to take the shot? She needed it so the sky looked magnificent in all its shining glory, brighter than even the Northern Lights. And then she thought of it. Across the road was a good place to start. She looked both ways for any oncoming cars - which none were coming - and crossed the road. Through the camera lens, the sky was even more majestic. The rays of the setting sun coloured the clouds in working shades of red, orange, and pink. It was beautiful to witness.
That is, until the bushes started rattling. Cressida's attention was driven away from her desired picture, towards the bushes. 'This can't be right,' she thought. 'There's nobody else here but me... Right?'
On the other side of the bush, a strange vehicle was parked. A small, white van was waiting at the side of the road. What for, Cressida didn't know, but the man in the driver's seat was growing impatient. That was as much as she could tell. The rest, to her, was unknown. She couldn't help but wonder why they were even there. Were they looking for something?
As she started to raise her camera to take a picture for the police, a hand grabbed her by her neck from behind.
"And what are you doing here, sweetheart?" a man's voice called to her. Cressida quickly pivoted on her heels, but she couldn't see who had spoken to her.
Because now, a hand was covering her eyes and nose, a tissue being placed at her nostrils. There was some sort of chemical on the tissue as well. Cressida wasn't studying in Chemistry, but she could still identify what was used.
Chloroform.
The smell was unbelievably strong, enough for Cressida to pass out, as she fell to her knees. She couldn't hear or see anything around her. She couldn't even feel the men dragging her away by her feet.

+++

When Cressida finally awoke, the air was cold.
A dark atmosphere engulfed the room, as barely anything could be seen. Cressida was barely able to see the walls of rock, and...
Prison bars?
Others were heard around her, whimpering, whispering, scared for their lives. The negative atmosphere had successfully affected them.
But one question still remained - where exactly was this place? Cressida was among people around her age. Innocent school children, scared that they could die.
A door soon opened, a woman walking inside. She looked proud in her figure, looking down at those within the bars. But her facial expression showed no remorse for these children. If anything, she looked satisfied to see the fear in them.
"Welcome," the woman finally spoke, "to Warehouse #666. Innocent children such as yourselves have sat where you are now. Some of them still reside in this Warehouse, in the Main Cell."
Main cell?
"You will be joining the other Captives in be Main Cell soon enough. First, you must endure your own initiation."
Captives? Initiation? Nothing made sense to Cressida. It was clear that nothing made sense to the others, either. They kept looking at each other in question.
"Before I leave," the woman once again spoke, "let me introduce myself. I am Alice, the Leader of the people who work here. My word is law in these walls, and I am the God here. I can easily end your life if you disobey any rules given. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Ma'am," the children spoke in unison. Alice smirked, walking back out. The gate locked behind her, and all Cressida could do was worry about her initiation.