Excerpt: Untitled

"What is this place?"
"Who were they?"
"Where are you?"
"Right here."
Matt’s groggy mind couldn’t focus on who or where the voices were coming from. They seemed all around him. One moment to the left, the next one to the right and further away. Was that voice coming from behind or in front? Female voices, male voices. Some of them sounded familiar. People he knew or thought he knew them.
“That doesn’t tell me shit. Open up your cell phone.”
“They took it.”
“How the hell are we supposed to see?”
“I think that’s the point.”
There were a few quiet crashes of bodies colliding and a few not so quiet collisions. Somewhere in the background water dripped and trickled. Matt couldn’t pin point where. And the conversations happened around him covered up the noise unless you were looking for it. A loud thud vibrated the floor.
“Who tripped me?”
"That was my foot! Oww.."
"Who scratched my arm?"
"Oh, sorry..."
“Don’t step on me!”
Mathias opened his eyes but the landscape didn't change. He couldn’t see anything. After a few moments of blinking, he realized that it wasn't going to change. It was completely dark in the room.
As he sat up, his head pounded. It threatened to make him lay back down. However, Matt was certain that laying on the floor proved dangerous if others were moving around in a dark room. It surprised him that no one had bumped into him yet. He rubbed the back of his head where it throbbed and found a lump. Someone must have knocked him out real hard. Why? Did I fight? His hand came back wet--blood? How long have I been laying here? He swallowed and tried to take a deep breath through his mouth. Matt found his lips stuck together. The metallic taste of blood entered his mouth as he wetted his lips to unstick them. He wiped his mouth on this shirt sleeve.
Matt felt around on the ground. Rough and a little damp. Concrete, perhaps? A drip somewhere or had it been a small puddle of his own blood? Would have lost a lot of blood for it be mine. I don’t think I would be up. Slowly, he raised his arms and felt the air around in each direction.
"Hey! Watch your hands, buddy!"
"Sorry," Matt said. He took a deep breath to clear his head. Damp, the place even smelled damp. And musty... like old sweaters boxed up in the attic for years. Moldy.
"You better be! This darkness ain't no reason to be getting touchy-feely."
Matt felt his cheeks get warm. He was certain he was blushing but thanks to the dark no one saw that. He couldn’t blame the girl. Someone touching you in the dark after whatever the hell had happened. What had happened? He wished he could remember. Maybe someone else would know.
"Anyone got a lighter and some paper?" Mathias asked above the whispers. The whispers were replaced by a rustling through pockets.
"Why didn't I think of that? That you, Marsh?" The voice was familiar.
"Yeah, Gareth?" It had to be him. The other boy’s voice was very distinct. One of the few people here, Matt could pick out in a crowd. Matt felt the corners of his lips start to turn up in a smile but it quickly died. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy that his friend was here or feel bad because of where they were. "If we could get paper and a small fire going..."
"Yeah, yeah, I understand," Gareth said over whispers of assent. "Empty your pockets people!"
“I’ve got a planner!” Another voice that sounded familiar. “Gareth? Matt?”
“Nicole?” A thick rectangular object was shoved into Matt’s hands. “Molly with you?”
“Yeah, we’re both here.”
Within a few moments and with the aid of a few lighters, there was a small paper fire going in the middle of the room. It cast shadows and one couldn't see much, but they could see enough to know that the situation was much worse than they thought.
The floor, walls and ceiling were concrete. Some of the walls were splotched with dark stains. Blood? That couldn’t be a good sign. It looked like people had been in here before. Scratches were on the walls tallying something. Days? Weeks? Matt shuddered to think that the tally could have been months. He wasn’t close enough to make out any words that had been carved. But he didn’t need to be.
“Oh, this is real encouraging: ‘Abandon all hope ye who enter here.’” A few people laughed nervously. A girl dressed as Tinker Bell whimpered.
Matt went back to looking around the room. A window was up near the roof, barred from escape. He couldn’t tell if it was dark because the window was painted black or because it was night outside. A door was situated in one corner of the room. Gareth went over to open it.
"Locked."
Whispers filled the room. They were urgent, fearful, and it quickly grew louder.
"Did you hear that?"
"Locked."
"Trapped."
“Shit.”
Matt glanced around at the people in the room. Panic lighted on their faces like a caged animal. A few had stood up and went to the door or near the window to examine them for themselves. And then the panic broke.
"What are we gonna do?"
"Oh my god!"
"Hey!" A boy dressed as a werewolf pounded on the door. "Let us out!"
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
The fire died down as it ran out of paper to burn. Screams echoed on those concrete walls as darkness crept back into the room. Matt stood in the middle of the panic and darkness. He shook quietly with a growing fear.