Stockholm Syndrome

Stockholm Syndrome 10

Chapter Ten

A strange sensation wakes me up the next morning. It feels almost like –

"Oh shit!"

I jump up, trying to shake off the long-legged spider that's leisurely climbing up my arm.

The spider flies off, and I frantically brush at my face, hair, and body, trying to get rid of any other unwanted creepy-crawlies.

Okay, so I'm not exactly afraid of spiders, but I really, really don't like them on me.

This is definitely not the most pleasant wake up.

My heart rate gradually returns to normal, and I take stock of my situation. I'm thirsty, and my entire body aches from sleeping on the hard ground. I also feel grimy, and my feet hurt. Lifting up one leg, I peer at the soul off the foot. I'm pretty sure there's dried blood on there.

My stomach is rumbling with hunger. I didn't have dinner last night, and I'm absolutely starving.

On the plus side, Eleanor hasn't found me yet.

I'm not really sure what I'm going to do next. Perhaps make my way back to the house and try to ambush Eleanor again?

I think about it and decide it's probably the best course of action at this point. Sooner or later, Eleanor or Louis will find me. The island is not that big, and I would not be able to hide from them for long. And I can't risk procrastinating, in case Louis returns sooner than expected. Two against one are terrible odds.

I'm also getting hungrier by the minute, and I tend to get light-headed if I don't eat regularly. I could probably find fresh water to drink, but food is more iffy. I don't know where Eleanor gets those mangos from. If I try to hide for another couple of days, I might be too weak to attack anyone, much less a woman who could be a freaking warrior princess.

Besides, she might not be expecting me quite yet, and I could really use an element of surprise.

So I take a deep breath and start walking – or rather, limping – back toward the house. I know this might not end well for me, but I have no choice. I either fight now, or I will forever be a victim.

It takes me about two hours to get back. I end up having to stop and take breaks when I can no longer tolerate the agony in my feet.

It's kind of ironic that I escaped because I'm afraid of pain, and I ended up hurting myself in the process. Louis would probably love to see me like this. That perverted bastard.

Finally, I reach the house and crouch behind some large bushes near the front door. I don't know if it's locked or not, but I don't think I can just stroll in through the main entrance. For all I know, Eleanor is right there in the living room.

After a few minutes, I carefully make my way to the back of the house, toward the large screened porch where I attacked Eleanor yesterday.

To my relief, no one is there.

Taking care not to make a sound, I open the screen door and slip inside. In my hand I'm holding a large rock. I would much rather have a knife or a gun, but a rock will have to do for now.

Crab-walking to one of the windows, I glance inside and am gratified to find the living room empty.

Straightening, I walk up to the glass door that leads to the living room, quietly slide it open, and step inside.

The house is completely silent. There's no one cooking in the kitchen or setting the table.

The digital clock in the living room reads 7:12. I'm hoping Eleanor is still asleep.