Kapitel 7: Chapter 6
After he demeaned me and made me eat with him days ago, I refused to eat anything else brought to me. I even said no to dining with that monster again.
I lay in bed crying and daydreaming about my parents and Max.
If I ever make it out alive, I promise to let Mom plan my wedding. I don't care anymore! Everything seems insignificant now. I know both of my parents have to be a wreck right now. They both have to be hurting because their only child has just disappeared.
I even lost track of how many days I had been trapped here.
Max is probably staying with them. Trying to console them the best way he can. My fiancé is such a good, selfless man. I only pray his comfort is helping my parents through this.
Freddie comes in like clockwork to bring me my meals, but I never touch them.
"Please eat something, anything! You're making yourself sick, honey." Freddie sits on the bed next to me.
I am lying in bed, looking away from him, clinging to a pillow. "Good! Then I can die, and your boss won't have the satisfaction of killing me. Please leave me alone and don't bother to bring me anything else! I don't want to eat anything in this hell hole. Go away!"
Freddie exhales and stands up. I can tell he's worried. "Well then, I'm still going to come up here and bring you your lunch in a couple of hours. I don't care if you like it or not!"
I roll my eyes. "Again, don't waste your time or energy! That food can be eaten by someone who's actually hungry. Give it to that animal!" I furiously point to the door, signaling to Freddie it's time for him to leave.
"You have a great heart. But you still need to eat. I'm running to the store. Do you need anything, Sam?"
Is Freddie serious?! The only thing I need is my freedom!
I continue to lay on the bed, looking away from him. I'm not wasting another syllable trying to get him to leave. I shut my eyes and just ignored him. Hopefully, he will go away soon.
"Right! I'll be back to bring you your dinner later on. Just take a bite of anything. Please!"
I take the pillow and cover my face. Freddie giggles and walks out of the room, locking the door.
I suddenly jump up! An idea hit me. The bedroom door has a handle on it!
Whenever I was grounded, my Mom would lock me in my room. She did it so I wouldn't try hiding in the other rooms. I was only six years old, of course. Mischief was my middle name back then.
I always kept a butter knife under my mattress. I would use it to pry the door open each time I was grounded. Mom always suspected the maids were letting me out.
If she only knew.
I go to my tray and grab the butter knife. My kidnapper and Freddie are idiots. Why would they give me a knife with my food? If I want, I can slit their throats while they enter my room. Or maybe they know I didn't have it in me.
As I tiptoe to the door, I pray it's just a regular doorknob.
It is!
Putting my ear to the door, I hear no one in the hallway. I bend over and close my eyes. "Please let this work," I whisper to myself. I inhale and stick the knife between the door and the latch, which connects to the door frame.
There's a small piece I have to push for the door to open. I begin to move the knife from side to side.
Nothing happens.
Agitated, I remove the knife and breath in deeply again. I get on one knee. "You can do this, Samantha! Your life depends on it," I whisper, putting the knife back and moving it from side to side.
Click!
I close my eyes and throw my head back, exhaling loudly. It opens! "Thank you!" Relief washes over me.
Shutting the door, I stand and go to the tray of food. I grab the tuna sandwich and two grapes. Then I take two bites of the sandwich, swallow the grapes, and wash it down with a water bottle. I need my energy if I run like hell from this place!
I go back to the door and put my ear on it to listen for anyone.
Nothing.
I take the knife and repeat what I had done minutes earlier. This knife will help me, hopefully, if I run into trouble. I place it in my back pocket. The door opens, and I stick my head out slowly.
No one.
The house is quiet.
Very quiet.
I tiptoe through the hallway until I get to the double staircase. The front and back doors are of no use to me. There has to be a garage or basement. Hopefully, one of them will have a door with an actual handle. As desperate as I am, I have no problem jumping out of a second-story window.
I trace my steps toward the dining room. Instead of making a left, I make a right. I pass a ginormous living room and a second dining room. The last room on the right has a door. I open it carefully and look inside.
Disappointment washes over me. It's just a library. I can see there isn't an exit here, but I walk in anyway.
The room is as big as my parent's living room. Dark wood and thousands of books line every inch of the wall. It seems like dust, also. Towards the front of the room is a desk.
Directly behind the desk is a fireplace. I can tell the desk and fireplace haven't been used in years. They are both covered in dust and spider webs.
I am about to turn away when a colossal portrait catches my eye. It's hanging above the fireplace. The picture is of a family.
A man who sort of resembles my kidnapper. He stands tall, with dark brown hair, no facial hair, and is handsome.
A woman stands next to him. She has long, blonde hair and pale skin. Her lips are what pop out the most. She's wearing red lipstick.
A little boy with enormous, chipmunk cheeks stands between the man and the woman. I wonder if the cute little boy turned into that animal. The one that kidnapped me. It looks like him, minus the cheeks.
In the portrait's background are a blue hanger and an airplane standing in front of it. One of those big commercial planes. Odd place to take a family portrait, I think to myself.
I keep staring as if I'm mesmerized, but then I remember where I am.
Why do I care who these people are? I need to get the hell out of here. Out of this house!
I turn and see the window. There is a couch directly in front of it. I walk towards it. The windows look like the ones in my room. No way out through them. I just wasted precious minutes here!
I exit the room, slowly closing the door behind me, and notice another hallway directly in front of me. I make it to the end when I hear voices. I hear Freddie's voice coming from the front door. He must have forgotten something!
I panic, removing the knife from my pocket. Which way do I go now?!
There is another door at the end of the hallway. I run towards it. The entry isn't shut, so I burst through it and close it just enough to peek through. I want to make sure no one sees me.
I stand there, hearing the voices again. This time they are going away from me. Then the front door closes. I exhale.
That was close!
I decide to investigate the room I am currently in. I leave the door somewhat, turn, and hit what feels like a wet cement wall.
I look up and want to cry. It's my tormentor! The man who kidnapped me was standing right in front of me.
My kidnapper has a look of anger on his face, which paralyzes me with fear. I want to look away, but I am too scared. He raises his left arm slowly. When it gets near my face, I stop breathing. He's holding a sword. He uses it to shut the door behind me and then brings it down to his side.
His anger slowly dissipates. His creepy, calm face emerges. "How did you get out of your room?" He cocks his head to the left. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.
"I would say I'm impressed, but you're as stupid as they come," he says demeaning. I shouldn't have taken his words to heart, but they somewhat hurt me.
My kidnapper brings the sword up to his face, examining me. I gulp and begin to shake, knowing this is the moment I will be sliced in half!
Taking his left hand, he runs his pointer finger under the blade and draws blood. I forget how to breathe at that second. He smiles menacingly and sticks his finger in his mouth, looking at me.
I take that moment to scan the room and realize this is the gym; workout equipment is everywhere. A blue mat lies in the center of the room. There's also hardly any light. Just the sunlight coming in from the skylight.
"Ah! Were you planning on using that?" He asks, looking down at my hand and back at me.
I'm trembling with fear or anger. I'm not sure anymore. It is so violent I forgot about the butter knife. I bring it up in front of me. "Let me go," I say, my voice cracking.
He backs away slowly. A sadistic smile creeps on his face. That's when I notice he has on gray sweatpants and no shirt. He's been working out because he's covered in sweat. His abs glisten as the sunlight hits him from the window above.
Every ounce of him is perfect, like a god. My mouth could have gone dry if it weren't for having a killer in front of me. My killer, to be exact!
"Want to play, princess?" My kidnapper asks with an evil grin. He obviously wants a fight. A fight I will gladly give him to leave this place.
"Play? I'd rather kill you!" I suddenly swing the knife over my head, and he jumps back, laughing.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I surprise myself! This is it! I have to fight!
The monster in front of me begins to laugh. What on earth is so funny?! I scream and slice at the air, missing him again.
"You're pathetic, Ms. Hallowell! I've had smaller victims put up bigger fights," the asshole teases.
I slice at him, again, horizontally this time. He ducks out of the way.
"Come on, baby doll! Let's see what you're made of," he sneers as he walks back towards the blue mat.
I don't know what his game is. I obviously can't kill him. But if I injure him enough, I can free myself from this place.
I begin to look around. It's unfair that this monster has a sword, and my only weapon is only a tiny butter knife!
"Looking for a weapon?" He asks. "How about I make it fair." My attacker puts his sword down. He stands with both hands up, taunting me forward.
I don't even think. I lung at my attacker and swing the knife vertically and horizontal. He takes a step back and moves his left shoulder out of the way, putting his left foot out. I trip, swinging at him, and land face first.
The pain I feel in my nose is enough to blind me for a second. My eyes instantly fill with tears as I massage my nose. I hear him scoff behind me, which angers me.
I scream and hit the mat with the side of my fist.
I stand slowly and turn to face him. He clenches his jaw and looks at me up and down. A look of hunger spreads across his face.
I instantly feel disgusted. I am trying to escape, and all the animal can do is lust for me? Thoughts of ramming the knife into his head start to float in my head.
I suddenly get a burst of courage. No way will I beat him like this. I have to cheat somehow!
I slowly walk towards him, smiling. The monster squints cautiously. It's obvious I am up to something, and he knows it.
I pretend to slice at him with my left hand when I get close enough. Both of his hands immediately grab my hand. I am so enraged at that point that I take my other hand and scratch at his stomach.
We are both in shock. Mister tough guy lets go of me, looks down at himself, and touches the blood.
He looks back up at me, a little taken aback. His tan face starts to turn pink, then red.
All I see is his rage!
"My turn," he snarls through gritted teeth. He backs away from me and grabs the sword from the floor. He then begins turning it in his hand.
I close my eyes and brace for my death. Why did I have to scratch him?! I suddenly feel wind travel up my stomach and then up to my chest.
It happens so quickly!
After a few seconds, I realize I am still alive and feel no pain.
I then hear him clear his throat.
Opening my eyes slowly, I see my kidnapper staring at my shirt.
I look down and see my shirt ripped clean, hanging off of me like a jacket. My sports bra also is torn from the bottom.
Oh my God?!
I scream and drop the knife. I turn towards the door and run. Once there, I grab the handle.
I am ready to pull it open when the sword comes flying at me, and the blade goes straight through the door, inches away from my face.
He is suddenly pressed against my back within seconds, pinning me between the door. I am too petrified to move or scream.
He moves my hair away from my ear. "I told you what would happen if you tried to escape. Next time I'll make sure to take a limb. I'm not kidding around. Try me!" He snarls.
"Please!" I beg, beginning to cry. "I don't want to be locked in that room for another second!"
Geschenke
-- Geschenk
erhalten Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein