Where You Belong

Armed and On The Run

If there was one thing that was absolutely clear in Lexi's panic and terror-driven mind, it was that unless she found a way out of this basement and this house, she wouldn't have another chance. Based on what Logan had said, he planned to kill them both tomorrow. Although he didn't say when exactly, there was a small chance he would leave her alone at any point of the day, least of all alone for enough time for her to escape.

No, if she was going to fight for her life, it had to be now.

Roughly an hour had passed, or at least she thought, since there was no way to tell time down in the dark. She shook, feeling cold and clammy. Her legs felt cold and sticky, the blood drying to coat her skin in the dark red liquid. Some had already crusted, leaving her with the irritating itching sensation.

There had been no noise from upstairs for quite awhile, and she assumed that Logan had fallen asleep. Unfortunately, he'd left the cd player still going in the background, thankfully at a much lower volume than before, but still there at the edge of the room. It was driving her slowly insane, but she ignored the repeated lyrics as much as she could.

Her eyes having adjusted to the darkness, she looked around at the shapes she could make out. The table, too far away to reach from her sitting position, held lots of tools on them. Before, when he'd been torturing her, he'd debating whether he wanted to use his other 'instruments,' as he called them, gently grazing his hands along their sharp edges.

She remembered seeing an old handsaw, on the closest edge of the table to her. Maybe, if she could somehow reach forward, she could reach it.

The chains clinked against one another, reminding her how impossible that would be. She'd never been very flexible, unable to dislocated her shoulder enough to bring her arms around her head like that, so that was out of the question. Her only hope would be to break the chain somehow.

Experimentally, she pulled her hands apart from each other, stressing the links of the chain. It halted immediately, but she couldn't give up now. This was a do or die scenario. She had to try everything. Gritting her teeth against the rough metal against her wrists, she pulled as far apart as she could. It held fast.

Her fingers probed around the cuffs on her wrist, feeling a dry and grated-feeling material on both sides, randomly dispersed. Her eyes widened, realizing that it was probably dried blood from previous victims. The metal was worn away a little, small scratches and indents plainly felt around the cuffs. She tried reaching for the links themselves to try to feel for any imperfections. If the links were worn...

Her eyes widened, feeling a small cut in one of the chain links on the left side. There was some of the crusty feeling on it as well, old dried blood. If the liquid had been there and already dried into such a hardened substance, it must have been there awhile, never washed by her kidnapper. Maybe it had helped weaken the metal some more...

Clutching onto this small hope, Lexi pulled at her hands again, the chain tightening up stiffly. She pulled and pulled, holding her breath to focus of exerting all the effort she could. Between tries she panted hard, hoping to regain her breath before trying all over again.

Over and over she pulled, feeling her energy draining with each try. The loss of blood from her wounds was making her lightheaded and dizzy. But now wasn't the time to be wimping out. Pushing through the pain in her lower body, as well as the quickly-growing pains in her wrists, she continued pulling, her hope lifting when she felt a little bit of give in the chain. Her hands parted another fraction of an inch, just enough to be noticeable but not enough to make much of a difference.

Feeling newfound strength, she clenched her fists and pulled, grunting out at the force she was exerting. Her arms were on fire, the skin around the wrists being pressed painfully into her skin, but still she continued.