Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 8: Cat and Mouse

I'm in such a shocked-haze she throws her lasso before I remember 'running' is a thing. See kids? This is why sleep is so important. A well-rested brain can process stuff like, say, danger. And how to get away from it. I pull back, gripping the counter so tight my arms shake. The rope snags around my shoulders, and I squeak. If my heart beat any faster my chest would explode. "What are you—"

"Relax, cupcake," she says, unclipping a little black canister from her belt, "I don't want to hurt you—"

"Relax?" I fix my eyes on the door behind her, trying not to look her in the stupid mask. She wants me to relax. She wants me to relax. The lady who kicked Gats, broke into my house, and threatened to kill me wants me to relax. I don't think so.

"—At least not yet."

I stiffen. How am I supposed to escape a woman who can crush jaws easier than I do goombas? "Comforting to know. Mind telling me what that is?"

"This?" She shakes the can and her eyes light up. I shiver. "It's a relaxer, supposed to ease the victim into a state of unconsciousness. Since it seems impossible for you to chill, I thought you'd be a prime candidate."

I glower, heat rushing to my face. "I-I can chill."

"No." She shrugs. "You can't." With two spritzes, she shoots a cloud of the sweet, flowery stuff in my face. I blink and swat it away from my nose. Not much happens, other than the strange feeling I'm...floating. Okay. That isn't good.

"W-what's your name?" I ask, the curiosity killing me.

"Why would I tell you?" She stares at me like I'm The Bachelor, it's the finale, and I'm choosing between the last two contestants. You're lovely Kaitlyn, but my heart yearns for another, Kylie.

"Because," I say, "I bet this is a drug you villains use to torture us poor, innocent civilians. You know, all slow and painfully and stuff. Thus, this might take a while."

"Thus?" she snorts. "What are you, an Oxford professor?

"Sorry." I shrug. "Villains make me pull out the vocabulary words."

"Cat," she says out of nowhere, "call me 'Cat."

I can't hold back my grin."Cat? Like Catwoman? Hate to say it, but that's awfully unoriginal."

"No, you idiot." She rolls her eyes again. "'Cat' as in Catalyst.

I burst into laughter. She glares and yanks the rope. I stop. "Huh. That's..." I look at the ceiling, thoughts of eighth-grade science clouding my mind. "...really nerdy."

"What? It is not!" she hisses. I laugh, the room spinning. I better run before I'm out like my faith in humanity.

"Very. If I were a villain my name would be..."

"What?"

I rack my brain. "Dunno. It would be cooler than that, though." 

"Uh-huh. It would be something stupid, like 'Long-hair-Guy." I bet she's smirking under her fake one, and the thought of it's kinda creepy. "The Terrible Tresemme? The Avenging Aveeno? Ooh, I know, Prince Pantene! Nice ring to it, don't you think?"

I smile. "Is that a defining characteristic to you? Hair length? Hate to disappoint you, but one more month and I'm cutting mine army-short." 

"Interesting." She flicks her head to the side. "Well, don't do that. It looks nice this way."

"That's news, with you trying to rip it out of my skull last night and all!" I grind my heels into the floor, glaring viciously. She giggles. "Speaking of which, mind telling me why you're here and why you're kidnapping me? Again?"