The Slave and Her Owner

Bullet

The first thing I see when I open my eyelids are gray, vertical bars that line my vision. I try to stand but instantly felt pain shoot up the side of my right leg. I realized that there is a huge hash on my outer limb. The dogs that were chasing me earlier might have had something to do with it.

What the hell happened?

What am I doing here?

Where the hell is 'here'?

I tried to observe and see if this place held any resemblance to something familiar to me but to no avail.

The window illuminated the dark cell with moon light for me to see barely anything. I strained to remember what happened before my slumber.

Van and I escaped that pyschotic master of ours, we've been on the run to no where in particular; just away from the people after us, we camped in secluded spots every night....but where is my Van?

I grabbed onto the window bars and hoisted myself up with my feet planted on the wall below it. I looked outside to see a dark forest and a couple trucks, but no fence. So that means my escape will most likely be quick, but with only one giant hurdle in the way; I have to find Van first.

I turned to face the metal bars that were in the room to see if there was anything I could use to pick the lock with. I examined the corners, the ceiling, by that stained excuse of a cell bed, and the dirt floor beneath my feet but yet again to no success.

My head flinched to the quiet but echoed noise of a rat in the cell. We made eye contact and the little shit hissed at me with its buck teeth and red eyes. It started to scurry away and I watched to where it was going. The rat crawled inside a small hole where I thought it would do what a rat must and store things away. I bent down to the small opening and hesitatingly placed my arm inside. My arm was pulled back out when I felt a harsh bite to my wrist.

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled in a hushed voice. I hesitatingly put my other arm in the tiny crevice and felt around for anything useful to me. I pulled my arm out again with a small, metal wire between my finger tips. I bent it to form a straight line and got up to walk back to the bars. After years of breaking and entering into places, I skillfully pulled the semi-circle on top of the lock out once I heard the three clicks.

I threw the small metal to the floor and got out of the smelly enclosement. The only other door in the room was unlocked and the walls outside of it were equally as dark as the one I had just walked out of. I made my way down the tight corridor and checked the couple of rooms to come up empty in each one. As I was about to turn the knob of the third door, I heard yelling coming from the hall on my left and I started to run towards it. I opened both the doors that were adjacent to each other then heard another feminine and familiar scream. One that I didn't ever want to hear.

I followed the loud noise outside of a differntly colored door but this was the only one I found locked. The door was only made of wood so I could easily break it down. With a few steps back to get a head start, I charged towards the wooden, flat surface and landed with my right shoulder causing the lock to break off. When my eyes adjusted, they landed on a man who was standing behind Van who was tied to a chair seated and badly beaten. I felt two hands on each of my shoulders and turned to see two men pulling me backwards. I landed on my ass by the amount of force but quickly regained my composure. I stood up and waited for one of them to make their first move. The one on my right went for first blood and swung his left at me, but I easily dodged it and I could hear his fist cut the air on the side of my face. The man on my left also took a swing at me, but I caught his arm and twisted it hard enough to hear that familiar bone crack underneath the flesh and muscle. As the man screamed in agony, the other brought his leg to my hip and it caused me to buckle a bit. I released the man's arm and went for the damn kicker. I couldn't recall how many fists missed and landed on our now exhausted bodies after the adrenaline had left us, until I did the man's leg like I did to his friend's arm and bent it to where it was at an awkward angle. He laid there clutching his leg and his face scrunched up as he tried to contain his screams.