The Pet🐾 (Completed)

Chapter 49

Ashley

Once Jared left, I quickly rushed to the door. I tried to unlock it, but it wouldn't budge. I ran over to the window next to it and saw bars, and a padlock keeping the door shut. I moved to every window—every one had bars over it and was locked. There was no escape.

I ran into the kitchen to find something I could use against him if he dared come back. All the drawers were empty except for plastic spoons. I checked the cabinets and found paper plates and Styrofoam cups. When I looked in the bottom cabinets, I couldn't find a single pot or pan. It was like he knew I would look for something.

I went upstairs, desperate to find anything—anything that could be used as a weapon. But there was nothing. No knives, no scissors, nothing but things that couldn't hurt him. I even checked the picture frames for glass, but they were all paintings with no glass.

I walked back downstairs and checked the fridge for food. I found a sandwich on the top shelf. I picked it up and saw a note: "Your very favorite kidnapper made you a very special sandwich—made with love, Jared."

I was about to gag when I read the note. He thinks this is funny. I threw the sandwich at the front door, and it splattered everywhere. I looked back into the fridge and saw a carton of milk and a cup of pudding. Well, there's my lunch, I thought to myself. I grabbed a red solo cup and poured myself some water from the faucet, then grabbed the pudding. I picked up a spoon from the drawer and walked into the living room. The lamp was made of wood, so it didn't shatter when it fell—it just lay limp where it landed.

I sat on the couch and saw that Jared had left his coffee mug. I quickly finished my pudding, washed off the mug, and thought, How am I supposed to use this as a weapon?

I thought about smashing it and throwing the pieces at him, but he would see that from a mile away. I could always just hit him with it, I thought. Then I realized that it was already becoming sundown. I threw the pudding away and drank the water.

I made my way up to the room I had woken up in and decided to barricade myself in there. I closed the door and stacked all the furniture to hold it shut. The bedside table was on top of a bookshelf, with the bed frame leaning on top of it all. The mattress on the floor and the coffee mug were the only things not against the door.

I looked at what I had done and felt proud of myself, but that feeling quickly faded when I heard the front door open. Then I heard his smug voice.

"Honey, I'm home," he said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

I could hear him walking around downstairs. "Aww, I see you didn't like the sandwich I left you. But you did like the pudding. Maybe I'll just leave you with nothing next time," his voice got louder as his footsteps got closer. "You should try and clean up the place. You'll be living here anyway."

I heard him right outside the door. "Well, I'm guessing you like this room better than that dark, cold cell back at the old mansion." I could practically hear his evil smile. I stood up, ready to throw the coffee mug at him if he got in.

He tried to turn the doorknob. "Oh, I bet you think you're clever, locking the door," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.

I heard him roughly break the door knob, so it didn't close properly anymore. "Now," he began, pushing the door open. But it was met with my barricade. "Hello there. I see you've barricaded the door," he said, peeking through the crack. "If you think this will keep me out, you're wrong."

He backed away, and I couldn't see him for a moment. Then there was a loud kick on the door, sending my barricade flying backward toward the wall. Jared smoothly and calmly walked inside. I pulled my arm back and threw the mug at him.

He caught the mug and looked at it, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Aww, you're so sweet. You washed my favorite mug," he said, setting it down on the knocked-over bedside table. "You should clean the rest of the house for me too," he said, stepping closer.

I grabbed the pillows and started throwing them at him. He knocked each one away with his arm. My last pillow was thrown just as he got right in front of me. "Now that's not very nice," he said, grabbing my arm and twisting it behind my back again. "Now, let's go see what we can do about that temper of yours."

I started to struggle, and then I felt another sharp pain in my neck. This time, I didn't go out, but I couldn't move.

"Wow, these witches are great. They know how to really perfect positions for people," he said, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder.

He walked downstairs and went under the stairs. I could hear him pulling something out and a door being opened. We then went down more stairs until we reached the basement. He set me down roughly against a wall.

"Now let's see if you can learn some manners," he said, clasping chains around my arms and legs. "Look familiar, right?" he asked.

I spat in his face. "Yeah, except your ugly face wasn't here," I said, a smile creeping across my face.

He wiped away the spit and looked at me. Then, without warning, he backhanded me. My face turned to the right with a loud crack. He grabbed a chunk of my hair and forced me to face him.

"Well, too bad then. Maybe I should get a picture of my face and leave it down here for you," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

"Enough of this playing around," I yelled. "What's your plan, Jared? Why am I still here?!"