Not His Doll

Chapter 1

| Seeking Refuge |

The door wouldn't budge no matter how hard she clung onto the knob, thrusting it side to side in futile attempts. Fear fed the adrenaline which coursed through her veins as it was the only thing keeping her alive. Despite the overwhelming blood loss she found strength in slamming her body weight into the hard oak doors. They would find her soon, and damnit she wasn't dying today.

With a last-painful effort the door finally gave in. Nearly tripping over her own efforts, she caught herself in time from falling. Twirling to face the door, she slammed it shut and pressed her back against the oak. It hurt to breathe. Her throat and lungs were raw from over exertion, but she spared no time in recovering, not yet anyway. With no time to catch her breath she forced her legs into moving. The home she had broken into had seemingly been abandoned with arguably no one being here in years.
She noticed a set of stairs leading up, her tired eyes examining the large family portrait hung just among it's wall, or what was left of it. It had been slashed to near shreds with certain pieces of the canvas missing.

A thud coming from the outside quickly reminded her as to why she was here. Clutching the gaping wound on her thigh, she hurried and limped up the hardwood stairs, no doubt leaving her own trail of blood.
She discovered a hallway with multiple doors on each side going down. Using her clean hand, she tried the first door on her right. To her surprise it was unlocked and inside displayed the master bedroom. A king-sized bed with ruffled sheets sat untouched with layers of dust imbedded in it's fabric. A tattered nightstand was to it's side, and a woman's wardrobe sat against the wall across from it.

First thing first was they she needed to prevent further blood loss. She tore open the wardrobe which revealed a variety of clothing like dresses and nightgowns. Removing one, she ripped the fabric and in the same way she watched from the movies, she secured it tightly around her thigh. She was lucky the bastards hadn't punctured a major artery, or she'd be long dead.

-B A N G-

Her head snapped to the bedroom door, her heartrate quickening once more. They were inside. She lightly paced to the door, shutting and locking it. Placing her ear against the wood she so far heard nothing, so assumed they were still downstairs. In the meanwhile she needed a plan, and fast. Turning to examine the room she had now trapped herself in, she scanned desperately for something to defend herself with.

Deciding to rummage through the nightstand drawers she dug through pointless junk for anything remotely blunt or sharp. Unfortunately, the only thing little of use was a copy of the Holy Bible.

Maybe later?

Placing the book to her side, she decided to scan the tops of the shelves amongst the walls. To her suffice, she found a candlestick. Tossing away the wax candle she examined the metal, agreeing it was blunt enough to cause some damage. Although it wouldn't be her first option, it was her only one.

-C R E A K-

Without a doubt she knew they had made it upstairs. With the candlestick in hand she wound it back similar to a baseball bat as she tiptoed to the door. Pressing her ear against it once more she could hear light footsteps making way closer to where she was. She quickly covered her own mouth in an effort not to make noise as she took a step back.

The knob began turning slowly and her breathing hitched as her eyes followed the short movement. She knew it was locked yet feared anyhow that the door would somehow open. Fortunately the knob halted in place signifying it was locked and wouldn't open. He grunted in dissatisfaction and moved onto the next door.

Releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding, she slid her back down the wall beside the door. They didn't know where she was so she had the upperhand. Things were going well for her so far, but just how much luck did she have left? She lifted the bleeding fabric on her leg, examining her wound with concern. She needed to find a way out of here without notifying them, and it needed to be fast.

Although she was safe for now, the reality was that she was trapped, with the only exit from this room being the single door. Even if she somehow built the courage to open it, did she want to risk the potential for squeaking hinges, or one of them being behind the door waiting for her? Unless she could quickly conjure a plan, she was a sitting duck.

Deciding she had enough sulking she stood and walked back to the oepn wardrobe. Digging around the mix of fabric she searched for anything the previous owners could have hidden, like a blade or a gun. The more she dug for nothing, the more frustrated she became. Without a care she began tearing the clothes from hangers, leaving them sprawled all over the room. She found nothing inside but a feeling of despair.
But that's when she saw it.

Bingo.

The wardrobe had been placed over an opening in the wall, similar to a cabinet- no not a cabinet, it was an old laundry chute. They were far from common nowadays but seeing as was an older house, it wasn't unheard of. She took a step back in deep thought as to how she would movie it without exposing her position.

She tested its weight by grabbing it's sides and slightly shifting it side to side. The wood was extremely heavy but it was manageable, the only issue being the floor scraping. Moving it could be accomplished as ling as speed and luck was on her side. Taking one last deep breath she sat on the bed. Staring at the candlestick in hand she pondered her next move. She knew what she needed to do but she'd only have one chance.

~