Chapter 5: Puncture Wounds
I woke laying on a marble floor, wearing nothing but a baby blue chiffon drape to cover me from the cold sting. As my eyes came to, I saw that I was no longer chained in the back seat of a carriage, rather curled in a larger than normal animal cage.
The sinking feeling of capture hit me once more and I finally let go of all hope of this being a dream. I orientated myself and saw that I was in a bedroom the size of a library. A tear slid down my cheek when I gathered that this room belonged to whoever I belonged to. Shaking my head in an lone room like a manic, I wouldn't let myself think that way. I always belonged to myself, I'm the sole owner of my body and mind.
In the corner of my cage, I saw a bowl of clean water and next to it an empty chamber pot for when I needed to relieve myself. The humiliating thought that someone might watch as I urinate caused the bile to rise up my throat. I unfolded myself and sat upright, hugging my knees to my chest and looking around the cage for a lock but there would be no point without the key.Even then, if I managed to get out of this cage, how would I get out of this house? I didn't even know if I was in the same town. I would stay low for now, make a plan and route my escape wisely.
Until then, I would thank the spirits for tender mercies. I was no longer naked. I was no longer blindfolded and gagged. I was alive.
The room looked to be masculine yet the colors that stained the wall and bedsheets were stark white. Not letting anything about its owner away, as if every thread count kept its masters secrets in heart. The room had little light shining through the curtained windows, but candle light flickered from every corner. Shelves upon shelves lined the back wall across the bed and near the fireplace. Books that I would kill to escape to, stories that would end up being better than my own.
I found myself trying to know what date it was. It would give me an idea how long I've been missing but I couldn't possibly know with the amount of time I had spent unconscious. I licked my lips and felt the dry and chapped skin burn with the touch of tongue. I tried raising my hand to touch them, but that's when I saw I was shackled to an iron ring that was embedded to the wall outside my cage. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to cry, it would be a waste of my body's nutrition and the devil only knows when I'd be relieved with food.
It struck me that my bound hands meant I would be drinking like a pet. Knowing nothing of privilege, my family never grew up in riches. However, we were mannered and I knew now that no matter how much embarrassment lined my limbs, I would do whatever the hell I could to survive.
I arched my back into my knees and leant my head down to reach my mouth to the water bowl. I thought to how cats and dogs drank and curled the edge of my mouth and licked up as much water as I could. The noise was mortifying and I was thirsty enough not to care as water spilt and dropped down my throat. I got lost in the consolation of finally finding replenishment through hydration. So lost, that I didn't hear when the door of the bedroom opened and a man stood watching me.
I felt him before I heard him, his steps too deliberately silent. The feeling of trepidation bit every ridge of my spine, almost like walking up stairs in the dark and not knowing when or where the last step is. I looked up from my water bowl and my breath hitched.
He stood six feet tall with eyes that the darkest brown that anyone not looking close enough would call it black. My blood ran cold when he took a step into the room, he looked down at me with his hands in his waist coat pockets, they were clenched against the material. His linen shirt stuck closely to him and everything about him screamed a chilling scream.
I knelt up from my bowl, not bothering to show my disdain. My lip curled in disgust and my eyes were loud enough to show my mortification. He titled his head slightly and his mop of brown hair showed me that he runs his fingers through it often. A lock of hair fell on his eyelid but he showed no movement to move it. A small burst of pride filled my gut when I saw that he looked confused with me, almost like I wasn't what he was expecting. His nostrils flared a look of raw hate travelled y way. The silence between us was palpable, but I wasn't going to be the first one to speak.
Almost understanding this, he walked toward me slowly. I backed away and slid across the floor until my body was slammed against the wall and I was the farthest from him I could achieve. When he reached the start of my cage, he bent down and held one post in between his hands. My gaze locked with his fingers. They looked like fingers that were made to kill, made to wrap around an innocents throat and press into the windpipe so that no air could be taken. He had a ring along his middle finger, with a "W" on the middle as it coiled around.
A branding, I thought. Made to indent a persons flesh when he kills them.
As he put one hand on the lock and twirled it around his finger, watching as I saw the temptation ignite inside me. The temptation to plead for pity, to ask for my release. He saw it clear as day but I looked from the lock and straight to his eyes in challenge. I would not beg for release. I would not speak, because that's what he wants. I would bide my time and wait. I would be smart about my freedom, play the role and keep to my course until I see my opening.
"Not a mouse," he whispered, looking at my face mesmerized. His hateful eyes moved from my brows slowly down to my lips, taking in every inch of my face. I noticed he never looked down at my body once since he entered. "You're too obstinate for a mouse"
His voice dripped honey down my lungs, making me feel too suffocated to take a breath. Rough and edged, it sounded like he only used it when he needed to. Never excessively wasting words. My body recoiled and I looked away from his scrutiny. In another world, another time - I would have thought him to be charming in his looks, a tempting danger had I met him on the high streets. But this was my truth, he was my captor and I his slave. For that, I wished him nothing more but to burn in the darkest and deepest recesses of Hades' House.
He moved his hands off the iron cage so fast, I thought it burned him. He got up, turned and walked to the door. He reached into his waist pocket and bought from it a key. My eyes lit up and my body like a magnet moved to the cage and I held two bars in both hands as I eyed the key in desire. A smirk hit the corners of his mouth as if tempting me with liberty for my abduction was all a silly game to him.
Placing the key on a high shelf near the door, he put a piece of rice paper next to it. "As smart as you may think you are, kitten. Don't waste any time on deliberating an escape. As orderly as you plan your steps, always remember" He paused and blew out the candle lights in each corner of the room, slowly blanketing me in darkness. Then, he walked toward my cage and knelt down in front of me. I didn't move away, showing no fear.
He reached between the bar and placed the pad of his thumb on my bottom lip causing my mouth to part. Moving his stare up, we looked at each other with only a an enclosure dividing us. "I will always be four steps ahead"
He stood, blew out the last candle and left.
Comments (1)
See all