Flight or Fight

5. Escape Attempt

Your dreams haunted you that night. You relived the car crash multiple times, always feeling so real again. The chase that Heisenberg played with you; your heart beating so fast trying to push through the pain. It was this pain that devoured your very being. Flashes of you on some sort of metallic table, feeling a wound ripping down your stomach. You felt sick. Warm. It was too warm.

In a jolt, you awoke, sitting upright. Your heart was racing so much, you had to try and take calm breaths. Breathing heavily back to a calm rhythm, you looked around to find that it was all real; the day from hell did happen. The feeling of the air brushing against your bare legs made you notice that you must have kicked the duvet off you in your sleep, it now being crumpled in a heap on the floor. You cringed when you noticed the sweats marks that drenched the shirt, he had given you and the bed sheets where you laid. You froze as you were suddenly reminded of him and where he was before you fell asleep, slowly turning your head to the side.

You noticed that your sleeping partner – the very demon that brought you here, was not beside you. The only evidence of him being there was the imprint he left on his side of the bed in the mattress. You were grateful that he had left you alone in the end. You closed your eyes and sighed. 'How long have I been here?' you thought to yourself. You groaned as you looked over your body in surprise. Your cuts and bruises had all pretty much vanished. You opened your eyes wide in shock, hurriedly lifting the top to check the huge cut down your stomach – gone. There was only a tiny faint trace that any of your wounds had existed.

'What the hell is happening?' was all you could think about, pushing yourself up and off the bed. Walking gave you no pain now. It made no sense. Either you had been asleep for a very long time, or they did something to you while you slept. It made you feel sick about what they did, wondering how many other innocent people fell victim to them. You yanked the door open, your anger clouding any logical sense.

Observing the open room, he was not there. Remembering the glimpse of the cameras on the screen, you moved over to turn it on. Your eyes were overwhelmed with the number of cameras he had around the factory, and you couldn't see him in any of them. Your eyes darted between them all, trying to look for any movement, but nothing. You could only imagine that he either didn't have cameras everywhere or he knew where to be that was hidden from view. You wanted out. Your angered spurred mind did not care to wait around anymore. You rummaged through his notes and books that he had on that long table, finding a pen and an empty notepad to dot down the ways you take.

Once you were set with your plan, you rushed to the front door after plotting a vague way out if your deductions of where you were on the cameras was correct. Surprised, the door opened with no struggle, you left the confines that was meant to be your new home. Taking a deep breath, you briskly walked out. You had no memory of the route he had taken you to get here, but you were determined to find your escape. Your first task that you gave yourself was to find that elevator or some stairs that would lead up and out of the compound.

With your notepad at hand, you dotted down the journey you were taking, knowing full well these corridors were going to all look the same. The hot steam from the pipes that ran along the walls and ceiling caused you to have many coughing fits, let alone the heat being generated heating up the metal grating floor that burnt your feet if you stood still for long enough. You regretted not changing clothes, but you couldn't think about it now. Life or death was the situation now, and that was all you focused on. Regardless of if you make it out, you wanted to at least have the path written out.