If you’re not 18 years or older, find something else to read. The following short story of approx. 4,000 words is an original work of fiction. Cassandra struggled to be free, but the grip holding her felt like iron bands clamped around her thighs. “Let me go!” she screamed like a banshee, rising up to claw at his face with her nails but her efforts were met with steely silence as they ran through the night. The cold air burned her face and she began to shiver. They entered what looked like a cave and were immediately enveloped in inky darkness but her captor navigated the tricky twists and turns as if they were traveling a lighted path. They emerged in a large cavern where he finally set her down with little finesse or grace. She landed on her rear with a squeak of pain but he paid her little heed as he was too busy building a small fire to warm the ice-box interior. In truth, she was too cold to flee even if, by chance she could find her way out. Her legs felt like frozen stalks of flesh that might shatter if she tried to run.
