003

Katherine's Point of View.

Every time I got up I was overcome by smelling the disinfectant smell. I had been hauled down into a dark, dank basement, chill and ominous. Around me, several men in white coats—and by the looks of them, physicians—waited in a hushed conversation.

They took my blood from my arm without a single word of explanation. That was the reality for my adversary who was displaced and I remained in the midst of the voiceless, empty space, cold and dirty, helpless and unwelcome.

But that was then.

Currently, I am in a seemingly otherworldly existence. The room they had moved me to was pristine and luxurious, its walls painted a soft white that contrasted sharply with the darkness of the basement.

A plush bed replaced the hard floor I’d grown accustomed to, and a closet filled with clothes in my exact size awaited me. Meals were brought regularly, though I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped.

Sleeping, eating, looking from the window and. and back to sleep. Today, however, I decided to break the cycle.

I began observing.

From my window, I noted the guards’ routines—the times they switched shifts, the moments when their attention seemed to waver. I also saw the catering staff from whom I picked items, and I monitored them in order to study their behavior and habits. My vision was confined [but] so far as it was in my control I did my utmost to bring forth the best that I could from the scattered mass of evidence.

Two weeks passed, and I was ready. I had no idea where I would go once I escaped, but staying here wasn’t an option. Something deep inside me screamed that this place was dangerous, that staying meant losing something more valuable than my freedom—my life.

I needed a weapon.

In cleaning one of the lyme disease containment units contaminated with snake venom (a broken glass vase with a maid), I absconded with one of the glass shards. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Night fell, blanketing the estate in silence. With the big heavy battle boots at their feet, the guards went stomping all through the corridors creating a horrible racket with their footfalls. I held my breath during suspense of hope, looking forward to an opportunity to act (i.e.

Pressing my ear to the door, I listened. The guard standing near my door was pacing, steps fading with his movement away from my door. Now or never.

In a silent swipe, I got hold of the piece of glass in my hand and nudged the door catch with the utmost care. The door moaned, but the gatekeeper wouldn't notice. I looked down and saw the back of the hall as he reached the far end of the hallway.

I, too, escaped, absorbing myself against the wall to remain in the dark. The noises of my bare feet on the cold marble floor did not make a noise. Every step was calculated, every breath shallow.

The hallway stretched and stretched and stretched, or at least that's what it did. My heart pounded, threatening to give me away. At last I arrived at the stairwell, hoping I would be able to escape the situation.

However, the second I reached the bottom of the first step, a noise shattered the silence.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

My blood ran cold.

I turned to find a guard at the opposite end of the hall, and, as he approached, the guard's eye closed as he got up to reach for his radio.

“Stop!” he barked.

Panic took over. I flew down the stairs with my toes in contact with the slippery surface of the stairs. The sound of his boots thundered behind me, closing the distance.

Just rounding the corner I hoped to lose him, but instead, I struck something that felt like an impassable wall.

No, not a wall.

A man.

I step my foot on the pedal and my hand is held in a vise grip of iron. I looked up, and my heart sank.

It was him.

The man from the office. The one they called Kai.

“New toy is full of surprises," he coolly remarked, yet his words crackled with a lethal coldness and malice.

“Let me go!” I screamed, struggling against his hold. But it was futile. His strength was overwhelming, his grip unyielding.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Audacious, aren’t you?” His tone was almost amused. “But you’ve made a critical error, sweetheart. No one escapes me.”

His eyes stayed on the guards who had arrived. They backed a couple of feet away and put their heads down as if ashamed to look at him.

“Send her back there to her room," he said, his voice firm. “Double the security.”

Muttering as the guards went to answer. He mumbled moved in closer, his body heat fell into my earlobe as a hot whisper.

“Do not mistake my tolerance for weakness,” He whispered. “You got one chance to try. There won’t be a second.”

I landed head first against my wall and the door closed behind me. My breathing was ragged, with my chest rising and falling in the way between fear and anger. This wasn’t over.

He thought he could break me, control me. But he was wrong. This time, I failed. Next time, I wouldn’t. I wasn’t staying here.

Not for him. Not for anyone.

I would escape, or die trying.