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Chapter 3

Author: Mariyam Khan
last update Last Updated: 2022-09-22 02:03:05

I didn't sleep last night, nor did I protest when he locked me back in the room. It wasn't like I didn't want to, but the fear of his statement and the immense pain in my body eradicated my will. 

Who he was, and what he was gonna do to me, had been bugging me the whole night. 

Then there was the flashback from the accident. If the monster really attacked me, then how did I get here? And where was my father in the first place? 

The horde of questions as if took the shape of a tornado in my head, swirling around in search for answers only worsening the ache. 

One thing was for sure, if I had to find my answers, I had to get out of here. 

For the first time since I had been here, I got up and limped to the window at the other side of the room. The sun had just began to peak through the sky. As far my eyes could go, only rows of giant trees could be seen. There was no sign of a house or humans.

Looked like it was in the middle of a forest. 

This brought out a disheartening sigh out of my mouth. 

Of course he did that. Which creepy kidnapper imprisoned a girl amidst a packed town? 

Wait...

I squinted my eyes, searching for a certain whiteness over the greenery, finding none. 

No snow. 

If not the snow already melted from the heat of the sunny day. 

But then Chicago didn't possess such vast of a forest land to begin with. 

Oh no. Realization hit me.

I wasn't in Chicago anymore. 

Dread twisted in my gut, and I fought the urge of a rising panic. 

I had to get out of here. I had to. 

Standing on my tippie-toes, I glanced down. It seemed the house was on top of a small hill, and I was on the second floor. If I tried, perhaps I could escape. 

A ray of hope bloomed in my heart. 

Fumbling around the sashes, looking for a lock or something to open the window, my heart skipped a beat. 

I realized there was none to begin with. 

The window was sealed shut. 

Secondhand disappointment coursed through my veins. 

But no. A glass couldn't hold me back from going back to my father. I wouldn't let it. 

Looking around, my eyes ceased at the lamp on the bedside table. I grabbed it upside down and positioned myself before the window. With all the might I could gather, I casted it at the glass. 

The second my hand lost the contact, I braced myself as the sound of glass shattering filled the room. Maybe the outside as well. But I didn't care. 

Removing my hands from over my eyes, my brows furrowed in the most daunting way. 

There was indeed shards of glasses in the floor, but not from the window. 

Only the lamp was broken, but not a single crack appeared on the window glass. 

"No, no, no."

Picking up the base of the lamp, I slammed it back on the window, yet nothing happened. 

I repeated my action, every fibre in my body protesting against it as pain jabbed throughout my skin. 

Once. 

Twice.

Thrice. 

No luck graced my effort. 

"No..." 

I slid down on my knees, feeling out of breath, streams of frustration seeping into my blood. No matter what I tried, my attempts were going in pure vain. 

The door burst open behind, and my eyes widened. Jumping to my feet, I moved back in fear of a certain man, when my eyes fell on a woman, probably in her thirties, observing me with caution. Her blue eyes moved to the ground, then back to me. 

"Are you okay?" She took a step towards me, but then stopped, sending a brief look over her shoulder. 

From her expression, it seemed she wanted to come examine me for injuries, but she too feared defying someone. 

Coming out of the shock, I vigorously wiped away my tears and took a step towards her. "Please, help me. I need to get to my fath-" 

"No." She shook her head, looking down. "I'm sorry, I can't help you," saying, she ran out, locking back the door. 

"No, please. Wait!" Limping to the door, I banged at it, all my pain and grievance switching into suppressed anger, yet of course, she didn't come. 

Not until after several hours. 

When the sun shone over the head, there came a timid knock, before the door opened, and the woman's face appeared through the crack. With cautious steps she entered the room as though she was afraid of me. 

How ironic! 

The captors feared the hostage. 

She put down a pair of clothes beside me on the bed. 

"Please, take a shower and put these on. I'll take you down for lunch."

"Will I be able to go after that?" I asked, not looking up. 

"I'm sorry, but please forget about that." 

At this response, my anger got the best of me, and I shot to my feet. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I snapped. "Forget about it? Do you even know what you're saying? My papa is out there somewhere, probably wounded, and I can't even help him. I don't even know if he's alive..." My voice trailed at the end as newfound tears flowed down my eyes. 

The woman stood there, eyes streched in shock. Soon she composed herself. "I'm sorry." 

She genuinely sounded apologetic. It'd even so much calm my nerves if it wasn't for her next sentence. 

"I'm afraid you have no other choice," she said, her voice thick in pity. "It's better if you just listen to me now. It's for your own good, trust me," she literally begged. 

How could she even say this to me? How could she even suggest to drop the thoughts of my father and give in to a kidnapper? This was ridiculous. If she was in my shoes, then perhaps she'd understand my situation. 

"No." I responded, stubbornly. "I'm not doing anything until you let me go." 

"Please, dear-" 

"Drop it!" I shouted, panting in rage. "Leave me alone!" 

She listened and disappeared from before me. 

It was exactly sixty seconds, before the door barged open, and a much younger girl appeared. With a flat expression and dauntless steps she approached me. Without warning, her hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me from the bed. 

"Ahh! What are you doing? Let go of me!"

She didn't listen as she dragged me out of the room, down the stairs and to a kitchen. Pain stung from my head to the toes. No matter how hard I tried to get free, I couldn't match the strength she possessed. It was from the lack of food in my system or the pain or even the exhaustion, I couldn't say, but she was awfully stronger for a regular girl. 

The woman was also there, looking like she contemplated between running away and helping me. 

"Nola, bring her the food," she told the woman who instantly nodded and reached for the kitchen island. 

"I said let go of me! I don't wanna eat!" I fumbled over her fingers tightly enclosed around my arm to get them off, but they wouldn't budge. 

"Shut the hell up and sit down here!" She shoved me on a chair by the counter. 

A tray of food was served before me. Toast with poached eggs and a glass of water. My stomach strained in need, but my brain was too over the fire to register it. 

"Eat."

I glared at her. "No." 

She glared me back. 

"Please, dear, you haven't eaten anything yesterday. You'll die like that," Nola spoke. 

"Then let me. I don't care. I'll rather die than give in to a kidnapper!" 

My hand swiped over the counter, sending the tray flying to the floor. The sound of plates shattering echoed through the whole house. 

The atmosphere as though froze for a lengthy moment. Even Nola's breathing stopped. 

Feeling the burning of a gaze, I looked up from the mess on the floor to the girl to see her seething. For a moment, I even thought I saw her brown irises turn yellow. A growling sound vibrated from her throat. 

"Calm down, Tera," Nola warned in an alarmed voice. 

I didn't know why a grown woman was so afraid of a younger girl, but I seemed to realize it soon enough as Tera's teeth exposed to a snarl, before she advanced at me. 

My hands shot up to my head, bracing myself for a painful impact.

But none came. 

Not even a sound.

Silence prevailed around. 

An eerie silence, like one before a storm.

Breathing heavy, I slowly let down my hands off my eyes to see a mascular hand blocking her strike a couple inches near my face. The knuckles on that were busted and small cuts braced all over the rough edges. 

My eyes traveled up the taut, veiny arm to the most beautiful silver eyes I had ever seen on a person. They were as grey as thick, prowling clouds on a thunderstorm ready to strike whoever dared meet eyes. 

Beautiful, yet dangerous. 

Suddenly my mind was taken back to the night before, and my heart jerked in my chest in the most frightening way. 

It was him. 

The man from last night. 

His eyes narrowed precariously. 

"No one touches my prey but me." 

Comments (1)
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Dee Huffman
His prey? Interesting.
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