Tomorrow. That was how long the doctor had said before I could begin moving around again.
"You will experience dull aches if you strain your body too much, but other than that you should be good as new." He'd spoke. A huge splitting grin was etched on my face after those words came from his mouth.
"Thank you", I responded.
The doctor nodded his head and briskly followed Igor out the door. My smile dropped when he left. I had been severely backtracked with my plans of leaving this place. My injuries had truly taken their time to heal, which could be seen as a good but also a bad thing.
A good thing because my whole body had never felt so replenished before. I had been fed constantly and water was always within my reach. My body had filled out and was no longer a pile of bones. The long 4 months I had spent bed-ridden had further given me time to efficiently plan my next and last route of escape. My past attempted run aways had been thought out, but they were rushed and were clouded by my want to leave. They weren't as thoroughly planned out as the one I had now. Every possible outcome had been thought it. Or at least I hoped they were.
The bad thing, was that I still needed to explore the house. If I wanted a smooth run, I would need to be aware of all the viable exits the house attained. And I was sure that there would be many. There was still a myriad of things that I needed to double check like if the number of men patrolling had been increased, if the windows that I had slithered through had been barricaded, if the men patrolling at night had increased or if the number of dogs they had, had risen and more.
So much was at risk with this plan. And I knew that if it wasn't successful there was a 99% chance that I wouldn't have another opportunity. I shivered thinking about how I would be dealt with, and prayed to whoever was up there that it wouldn't result to it. I could only presume that he was getting tired of my efforts and maybe felt that my punishments weren't effective, I sure as hell would if my prisoner continuously defied me and incessantly tried to leave.
The men patrolling both inside and outside the house never stop, but they did swap approximately every 4 hours. Fortunately, as time went by and street lamps turned on, they weren't as vigilant or as focused and tended to be sloppy and like the sleazy bastards they were, gave the maids working late a hard time. I roll my eyes at the thought, men. The nights I had spent wide awake aching in pain deemed to be more beneficial than I would've predicted.
And so, when I heard the man at the end of the corridor faintly shuffling for the 6th time, I immediately knew it was time. I slid my bedsheets off, stuffing the covers with my nightwear in attempts to create a faint outline of my body. I step back to assess my work. It was obvious that it wouldn't fool anyone, but I was praying on the fact that the men would be too lazy to walk in and check properly. No. I couldn't prey on anything, I needed to be sure. I grabbed my pyjamas and lay them on my bed. I then advanced towards my bathroom, and switched the shower on. Grabbing a towel and swinging it over the curtain of the shower in hopes to create a realistic impression of me in there. I lock the door and fling the key under the mass amount of unnecessary clothes in the wardrobe. I leave my underwear drawer open, with the aim that it wastes their time. Sliding a slim torch into my bra and shuffling it around to make it more comfortable, I then shove my wild hair in a low ponytail and prop my feet into my red tennis shoes, they proved to be the most reliable thing I had in my possession. We had a solid relationship, my shoes and I, they'd been a main factor in all my past escapes, I'd be forever indebted to them.
I crack my door open, peaking my head through the small gap before slipping my slim body through. I carefully let the door shut behind me, wincing at the reasonably loud click it makes. I take my time walking down the halls. I've learnt from past experiences, from how loud my feet pound on the floor to how quickly I lose my breath, that sprinting isn't always the best option. I hold my breath as I soon reach the station in which a man should be patrolling. You could imagine my surprise when I darted towards the pillar at the beginning of the hall and stick my head out, only to be met with no one in the hall. I don't take time to dwell on it and begin unscrewing the bolts to the air vent open. Perspiration begins to form on my head as the last screw refuses to come out. I want to cry in frustration as I think about the man that should be patrolling returning. I place the screwdriver back in its place behind the pillar and yank at the bolt. The thud of boots leisurely making their way down the hall make me yank at the bolt aggressively harder, to the point that, I, as well as some render plaster fly back. My hands frantically push the fairy dust looking plaster towards the wall, and I pray that it isn't noticed. I begin to slither my body into the vent. I first begin with me legs and scoot my body further in, engaging the muscle in my calves. My eyes widen as a pair of legs come into my vision, I hurriedly grab the cover and jam it into the wall. I close my eyes and hold my breath. The legs still and remain in place for a while before they continue down the hall.
I noisily breathe out through my nose and wipe away the sweat on my head. I stay still in the vent and try to catch my breath for a moment, before reaching down my bra and retrieving my torch. I press down on the button and squint as it shines bright into my eyes. I groan vigorously rubbing at my eyes, trying to stable my vision before turning the torch to face my feet. The narrow walls of the vent allow for minimal movement so I proceed my shuffling. It was slow torturous progression before I made it to the intersection. I release a sigh as I'm finally able to stretch my arms out. I knew that if I turn left, I'd find myself above my bathroom. Twisting my body to lay on my stomach I carry on left, with my head first this time. I place the torch in my mouth as my hand began cramping after some time and continue to edge forward with the help of my elbows.
The vent was stuffier than I had remembered, I venture onwards taking two rights before I reach the laundry room. Putting the torch back in my bra, I push the vent open and carefully climb down. The droning sound of the washing machine was loud enough to mask the hum of the window as I pushed it open. I mentally checked the first window off my list off my list. Using a random laundry basket as a stepping stool, I clamber back into the vent. I assess the room before I leave, ensuring that I'd left everything as I'd found it and that nothing noticeable was out of place.
My next destination was the library. It was located at the very top of the house, almost hidden away, and would take the longest to get to. I stilled my movements as I thought about it. Would it really be necessary? My shoulders had already developed a dull ache in them, if I did cover the distance, I don't think I would be able to sustain the journey to the window in the wine cellars. I turn back, deciding that it wasn't worth it. I begin counting the vents I pass as I make my way to the cellar. My eyebrows furrow as I hoover over the 7th one. Shining my torch into the room and sticking my nose through the vent, I try to get a closer look. I push the latch open and descend from the confined space I'd been cabined in.
The room was dark but humid, immediately raising alarms in my head. I still advance, ignoring the red flags. The walls were slick with a liquid but the rough bricks made it hard to identify which. My eyes catch something glinting in the far corner as my torch skimmed over it. I cautiously walk towards it, slapping my torch as it began flickering. My eyes widen as I realize what it is. Blood. A very bloody knife. Gulping, I drop it back down on the table. My labored breathing increases as I register the other items on the table; a variety of knives, bleach, bottles of whiskey, pliers, hot sauce, cloths, bottles of acid and many, many thumbs and toes. I swallow the bile rising up my throat at the sight of them. There was so many devices that I didn't even know that name of layed out on the table. I stumble back as I begin to notice the mass amount of blood on the floor. I shake my head as tears threaten to fall. In a haze, I trip over something and land in front of a pile. My trembling hand raises my torch and a scream rips out from my throat. I push myself back stunned by what my eyes had seen. I can't move my eyes away, nor can I move my body away.
The rattling of the door handle snaps me back into reality. I had screamed. In the dead of night. I had screamed. Scrambling to my feet I sprint towards the vent. The door smashes open and I get my torso up and a bullet is shot my way. Someone was truly watching over me, as I'd managed to get my legs up unharmed. More shot were fired. I slither my way through the vents as quick as my elbows could go with my shoulders and lower back aching in pain. The loud blaring sound of the alarm system deafen my ears, but I move on. Scooting past the 2nd vent I could hear the thudding of the feet of multiple men and the arming of guns. Tears run down my ghastly face as the ache become unbearable and at the thought of getting caught again.
I hear Igor's adenoidal voice bark. "Have you checked the girl's room?"
"No sir, but Alexei and his men are already making their way-"
I don't listen to the rest, and push myself onwards. I slam my flickering torch against the side of the vent.
"Fuck!" I groan as I'm left in darkness.
My heart was thumping as I patted the walls of the vent. Reaching the familiar intersection, I continue on. I jump at the sound of my bedroom handle being shot off. I let out a grunt as I wiggle my body out of the small hole.
"- or we will knock the door down" I hear a voice shout.
My shirt is thrown on the shower floor in a haste. Not having any time to remove the rest of my clothes, I remove my hair from its updo and air it out under the shower head. The room rattles as the door in knocked down. Feigning a look of confusion, I move the shower curtain creating enough room for just my head to show.
"What is going on?" I ask puzzled.
Blue eyes meet mine. The man doesn't say anything and continues to start at me. I cock my head left, carrying the false impression of bewilderment.
"There's an intruder miss." He states and continues "could you not hear the alarm?"
I shift my body with the intention of showing that I was in a state of discomfort, seeing as there were a group of men holding their guns up at me while I stand 'nude' in the shower.
"I did, yes. But presumed it was another drill" I retort.
He hums and keeps his eyes on me. It wasn't in a lustful way, but warily.
He raises his hand. The guns drop.
"You have 5 minutes to get out before my men drag you out". And with that he leaves.
My shoulders sag as the last of them leave. I proceed to take of the rest of my clothes and hurriedly scrub at my arms and hands, hoping to get the blood of them. Blood. On my fingers.
"Fuck!" I groan again. No wonder he was suspicious.
I exit the shower, and stuff my clothes into the cabinet beneath the sink. I wrap the towel I'd placed on the bar around me and walk out the the space my door once occupied. My face turned beet red as I come in contact with two men in my room. I sheepishly grab the pyjamas I'd placed on my bed and practically run back into the bathroom. I refrain from looking in the mirror and take my time putting them on, trying to recollect my thoughts, in particular about what I had seen.
A thick jumper is thrown at me when I finally exit the bathroom. I shove my head and arms through the holes; immediately engulfed by warmth and follow them to where they were taking me.