Laura: Now
     The plan was simple, but Laura had found that the simplest plans were usually the best executed. If a plan had too many variables then there were far too many things that could go wrong. Until Laura had arrived in the cellar, the trucker had maintained the upper-hand by terrorizing the women. He had used fear to cripple them, keep them corralled, but Laura's mind had latched on to a few things that seemed to have not occurred to the others. First: even with the cattle-prod or any other weapon the trucker may have, the women in the cellar outnumbered him seven to one. Granted, some of the women were very weak by this point and could offer little more than a distraction but the fact remained that he was only one man. Second: the room upstairs was well-lit. When Laura first suggested that they turn off the lamp and hanging bulb the other women were hesitant. The light was their only source of comfort in the damp prison of the cellar. Laura explained to them that by turning out the lights and allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness they would have an advantage over the trucker. When he plunged in to the room out of the brightness of the hallway he would be momentarily blinded. If they could charge the man and occupy him long enough, Laura could creep up behind him and smash his head with the base of the lamp. She didn't have to knock him out, she just needed to weaken him enough that he would drop the prod.
     Eventually the women agreed to the plan. They removed the hanging bulb from its wire and unplugged the lamp from the wall. When the lights went out Nancy began to cry but Pamela (more alert now it seemed) comforted the scrawny girl and in a moment she was quiet. It took awhile, but gradually Laura began to see forms emerge from the inky blackness and soon she could make out the faces of the other women. With their eyes adjusted they soon realized that there was a faint glow from above that crept in between the boards of the cellar ceiling in a few places and they could make out the dim outline of the door through which the trucker would enter the room. Four of the women would charge the man when he entered the room from each corner and attempt to drag him further in. When he crossed the threshold Nancy would quickly shut the door behind him giving the women a greater advantage in the dark then Laura would attack from behind while he was busy with the others. It wasn't a perfect plan and things could still go wrong. For one thing they had no idea what to expect from the nameless girl huddled in the corner. She still hadn't spoken to or even acknowledged the other women.
     The time passed slowly as they waited to spring their trap. They spoke quietly of their lives and families. Even Nancy uttered a few words here and there. At last they heard heavy breathing and approaching steps as the trucker barreled down the hallway beyond the door. The women scattered into position as quietly and quickly as possible. Laura gripped the lamp base tightly with both hands, took a deep breath and held it. Suddenly the man was in the midst of the cellar swinging and stabbing wildly with the crackling rod. Charlotte threw herself toward him at the same moment that Pamela dove at the man's legs. The impact caused the man to topple slightly off balance, but wasn't enough to force him deeper into the darkness. He managed to press the cattle prod into the older lady's collar bone and she collapsed to the ground, her body convulsing like a fish removed from its aquarium. He brought a booted heel careening upward into Pamela's chin dropping her as well then spun on the other two. Laura rushed forward and brought the lamp down as hard as she could, aiming for the base of the man's skull. At just that moment the girl from the corner of the room burst into motion. She blew past Laura causing her blow with the lamp to deflect off the trucker's shoulder instead of his head. She flung Nancy back from where she had been struggling to close the heavy door and ran out of the cellar and into the hallway before disappearing around a corner. When the lamp connected with the flesh of the man's shoulder he let out an angry grunt and spun toward Laura who was now unbalanced. With his free hand the trucker reached behind his back and when he brought the hand up again it was holding a pistol. The plan had failed, by now that much was clear. Laura didn't have a chance to scream. Before she could duck aside he had aimed the gun at her chest and pulled the trigger.

 Clancy: Then

      Clancy's lungs screamed as he was pulled ever deeper into the black waters. He to free his ankle but the grip was unyielding. Just as unconscious was beginning to claim him, Clancy hit bottom. He felt the hand continuing to pull him first against the surface and then somehow through it. When he had cleared the floor he was released and he collapsed choking and coughing up the stagnant water. Pale, thin green worms swam and swirled in the puddles of water he had spewed up. He coughed again and saw another tangled mess of the green worms fly from his mouth like angel-hair pasta. This time he couldn't fight back the oblivion of unconsciousness.
     When Clancy awoke he was in the same room but he was no longer alone. The being was tall and utterly black. Its face was featureless and the body itself was genderless. It was thin and shiny as polished steel. In the creature's stomach was a pink slit running vertically from its wist to the base of its throat. As Clancy was looking this slit peel opened with a wet smacking sound revealing an oval shaped mouth, lined with rows upon rows of needle-sharp teeth. For the first time Clancy became aware that he was restrained. chained tightly to the back wall of a small cave-like space. He peered out through the open doorway beyond the shadowy being and could see an impossibly enormous citadel, its walls dotted with countless other cells like his own, and there chained to the floor in the center of the room was the dragon. Not a statue but the actually beast itself as large as a house and every inch as sinister as in the art it had inspired. Sudden agony lit his right arm on fire. He looked and saw the creature was pouring an acidic juice the color of blood onto his flesh. Where it touched, Clancy saw his skin bubble and peel as the muscle blackened and fell from his bones. He screamed until his voice was gone and just as quickly as the flesh was destroyed he watched the green worms he had seen earlier crawl out of his tortured flesh and become new flesh. In a moment his arm was restored. The mouth in the creature's stomach snapped open and shut then splashed a fresh coat of acid on the new flesh witch instantly began to boil as before. Clancy thrashed his head from side to side. The pain was unbearable, unimaginable. His eyes came to rest upon the dragon again and he saw that the gigantic pale face was now turned his way and observing his torture with a wicked grin. He saw the dragon's eyes bulge in their sockets and he was certain that he saw merriment shining in those eyes. He was struck by a sense of recognition that for a moment was more consuming than the pain in his arms. The look in those eyes was the same as that he had seen on the face of the trucker when the man had swung open the door of the bathroom stall. The thick lips of the dragon's mouth parted revealing teeth the size of elephant tusks and just as curved. The dragon spoke. Its voice filled the space and vibrated through Clancy's skeleton. It spoke directly to him. "THE WORM DIETH NOT." it said, and at that moment, with the dragon's laughter echoing throughout the citadel, Clancy's mind finally shattered.