A Room With No View

The escape plan

My head throbbed with pain as I slowly came to my senses. I felt the back of my head where Raymond had hit me with a rod of some sort. It was still pretty sore.

I opened my eyes, breathing heavily. I couldn't see anything. At first I thought I had gone blind from the blow. Then, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw a small slit of flickering light at the bottom of the wall opposite from me.

Still groggy from the blow, I crawled towards the light, feeling the floor beneath me. The floor was made of soil. It was damp and cold. As I reached the slit, I felt the wall upwards, standing up with it's support.

It was a wooden door. I stood with my back to the door, breathing heavily, trying to gain my stance. I had to think fast. I had to get out of here. Macey was in danger.

A few days ago, Maceys's twin sister, Megan had been brutally murdered at the hands of an unknown person. Later on, after careful investigation, I had found out that Megan was never really the target. It was Macey. But on that fateful night, while Macey was out on a date, Megan was home looking after Macey's puppy. Too bad. Neither could be saved.

The case ran the newspapers for a long time with a lot of hype. Nobody could figure out the motive of the ruthless killer. Until today.

I was Macey's only hope to survival. Her killer was on a lose, about to make his next strike. Only this time, on the correct victim.

I blinked furiously, trying to clear out my mind. What time was it? For how long had I been passed out? Raymond,  the culprit, had hit me in the head when he realized that I was too close to unraveling his unforgivable truth to the the world. I had to find out where I was.

I pressed my ear against the door, trying listen for any potential noise coming from the other side of the door. Nothing. Only the buzzing of the tube light that flickered.

I kneeled on the ground, and put my watch as close to the door slit as possible, trying to make out the time. 5:30pm, it read. I had to work fast. I had only 2 hours before nightfall. Before Raymond would take the drastic step to put his plan into action.

I stood up and pushed hard against the door. It didn't budge. I tried again, this time with more force. Nothing. I could hear the shangles of a lock on the other side. This door wasn't going to budge.

Almost immediately, I started feeling the air around me in the darkness with the hope of finding something, anything.

As I carefully walked around, I suddenly stepped onto something that fell down with a clank. I also tripped over it and fell to the floor. In an attempt to save my head from hitting the ground, I put my hands in front of me. Wrong decision, I guess.

For my hand came in contact with something sharp that slit the skin across my palm. I yanked my hand away in pain. I could feel a hot liquid drip from the wound. Probably blood. I searched my pockets for my handkerchief. That idiot had taken my cell phone away.

I somehow tied my hand with the kerchief using my mouth and other good hand. Then I felt around for that thing that made me trip. The searing pain was partially clouding my thought.

What came in my hand felt sort of like a spade. I picked it up and walked carefully towards the door. I didn't want to trip again. On reaching the door, I started hitting against the door with the spade using all my strength.

With every blow, an electric shock like pain shot up my arm. But I had to get out faster. I didn't have much time. When I got tired, I slumped down and again checked my watch against the flickering light. It was 7pm. I had no time to rest.

I got back up, heaving, and built up all my strength to break down the door. Finally, it gave way and a part of the door in the centre came out.  Then, with my hands, I picked at the broken pieces to make the hole in the door big enough for me to get out. I got a lot of splinter cuts along the way but I didn't have the time to think about all that.

When I finally let myself out, I found myself outside an outhouse. The flickering light at it's entrance was what helped me get out. I bent down, holding my knees and trying to catch my breath. I examined my injured hand. The entire handkerchief, which I remembered to be white once, was now a crimson red.

I looked around, not knowing where I was. I limped ahead, trying to figure out what to do next. I tried to compose my thoughts as a hundred things ran around in my head.

I had to think fast. I had to act faster. There was a chance, that I was too late...