Flames And Blades

Chapter Twenty One: He Wasn't Man Enough

As I pace the elaborately decorated room, I start to question why the Hell someone would decorate a room this well for absolutely no reason. There was no way my abduction of sorts was planned, my temper or any events that lead up to it were a spur of the moment thought through by me, with no communications other than the text to Warrison, who would probably still be asleep as of right now.

I once over my exits again, an attempt that I lost count of how many times I had done, and still come up with the same facts. Ensuite bathroom, fully equipped with clawfoot bathtub and all things hygiene, a few different changes of clothes that came in a much higher quality carbon copy of all my clothes from my parents' house, and the lovely factor of no window or existing door. While the four-poster queen bed with baby pink silk sheets and a down duvet had a window above it that I could easily climb and fit through, its steel bars and locks left me out of an otherwise easy out. Beside the bed was a very vintage vanity with the makings of a small Sephora on its top, only a small tray was left on its seat with tea, bread and a butter dish containing a very dull and flat butter knife. Alongside that, of course, left me back looking, glaring I assume at the steel door locked from the outside. Its shiny screws practically laughing at me until I come up with an idea for their demise.

Grabbing the butter knife from the tray, I use as a makeshift screwdriver for the screws to avoid unlocking the door altogether and simply just making the doorknob less door and more knick-knack. Simultaneously praying that no one is walking by to see it popping out and thanking my Grams for teaching me how to 'properly con' when I was little to be able to do this and still contain a few other tricks up my sleeve.

After the fifth or sixth bruise that started to form on my non-dominant wrist, the doorknob pops off with great success- its loud thump on the ground cheering and scaring me.

Along with its thud, the door screeched open, the loudness, I assume coming from the far off imagination of mine coming through full-force in a highly tense situation. I start counting the dark wood floor panels beneath my feet until my heart gets to an actual monitorable pace. At about the sixteenth panel, I see a pair of really cool and really beaten up converse, which sets my heart off again and adrenaline off enough to push me into overdose mode soon if I don't calm the hell down or use the energy it's given me fast. I look, ready to take fight and flight in stride to whoever stands before me.

However, when I meet said strangers eyes, they seem of no danger to me. I, again brace myself to fight so as not to be naive, a fact that the person takes and starts speaking up.

"Okay okay, so, the way I see it, the both of us are in a shit ton of trouble. So, if you think the whole 'negative on negative' thing, we're technically safe to each other, so if you could like not, oh gee, pummel me to the ground as you seem to just about to be doing, that'd be great. But like if not, then we're both really gonna die." Immediately, the person, of whose name I never received or saw on their person, sounds so stereotypically American that I get thrown off balance. In catching it, I put my fists into open palms and stretch them behind my back, slouching a little, so as to be a little more relaxed looking and less fight stance appearing.

"So if we both know why I'm in trouble, care to explain why you're in trouble." I ask looking to see if we are in fact, going to get caught. Their eyes catch me at a very green, very amused and almost slightly shy stare and then does the same view I just did.

"Care to wait until we've reached the non-enemy floor?"

"Yes please."

My arm gets pulled to a secret staircase that I instantly kick myself for not seeing the first time and then taken down a whole four flights at a pace between sprinting and running. Something I can't complain about but really do kind of hate since I was taller than the person pulling me and faster, so I had to keep slowing down and while doing so, kept looking behind me in a state of tension and paranoia that shoved bricks in my lungs and smoke in my brain. Our breathing echoed off the walls and empty stairs in such a way that we both were almost sure it was going to amplify and act as a very audible 'trouble makes possible escapers here! All for your abducting with ease!' poster.