Fear

29 • The search for an escape

It had been three long weeks since the accident with my tongue that left me in the hospital wing. My tongue had mostly healed but my spirit was far from mended. The time spent under Sam's watchful eye had given me ample opportunity to think, to plan. Now, more determined than ever, I dedicated myself to finding an escape route-not just for myself, but for Tom as well.

With Tyler having given me more freedom to walk around the institution, I navigated the endless corridors at every opportunity, searching for anything that could be significant. The cold, sterile walls remained claustrophobic as ever, and each turn revealed more of the labyrinthine maze that kept me captive.

The basement was a particularly harrowing place, its low ceilings and flickering lights casting eerie shadows that played tricks on my mind. I found myself retracing my steps more than once, lost in a repetitive cycle until I eventually found the stairs that led back to the main floor.

On one particular day as I roamed the basement, I stumbled upon D2, one of the first rooms I had been brought to when I was kidnapped. The memory flooded back of Tyler's cold eyes, the stale smell in the air, the sense of utter helplessness. I shuddered, pushing the memories away, and continued my search. The basement offered no answers, just a constant reminder of my captivity.

Weeks passed with no success. I scoured every corner of the institution, from the staff corridors with their mundane office spaces to the hidden nooks and crannies that seemed to exist solely to frustrate my efforts. The staff moved around me, some uncaring of my walking about the corridors unattended, some questioning me, especially Raven. I moved cautiously, always mindful of being caught, but determined not to let fear deter me.

Then, on the fourth week, I thought I'd found it.

I was walking down a particularly deserted corridor, the walls here rougher, older. It felt different, less polished than the rest of the institution. The air was colder, carrying a damp, musty smell that hinted at it being the original part of the building that Tyler must've built upon.

I almost missed it-a door that didn't look like a door at all. It was set into the wall seamlessly, camouflaged by the surrounding stonework. The only indication of its existence was a faint outline. There was no opening, handle, or indication of any way to unlock it from the inside, leading me to suspect it had been bolted from the outside or there was some sort of electrical mechanism that would open it. Perhaps the answer lay in Tyler's office. I made a mental note to snoop around his office later.

I slowly ran my fingers along the outline, feeling the cool, unyielding metal beneath my touch. To any passerby, it would seem like just another part of the wall. But I knew better. This had to be it. How else would Tyler bring in new patients without the others, even the staff, knowing about it?

I pressed my shoulder against the door, trying to push it open. It didn't budge. I threw myself against it but still, it remained stubbornly closed. The impact sent a sharp pain through my shoulder, and I stifled a cry. Despite the pain, I couldn't shake the certainty that this had to be the way out.

I stood back, studying the door while I rubbed my shoulder. There had to be a way to open it, some mechanism or hidden latch. But my immediate attempts had proven futile. I knew I couldn't stay there any longer without arousing suspicion. Reluctantly, I turned away.

The corridors seemed even more oppressive on the way back. I moved quickly, my footsteps light but purposeful. I had to find Tom to tell him about the door. It wasn't much, but it was the first real lead we had. The thought of escape, of freedom, actually made me properly excited for the first time since I stepped foot in this hellhole.

As I navigated the twists and turns of the institution, my mind was a whirl of thoughts. What if the door wasn't an exit? What if it was another trap, another way for Tyler to maintain control? No, I couldn't let doubt creep in. I had to believe that this was the answer, our way out.

I had to believe it.
I had to save Tom.
I had to save myself.

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