*CONTENT WARNING* Swearing and violence
"Valentina…?" A quiet voice sounded.
"Valentina are you okay…?" It tried again, still soft, careful.
Sounding more determined, it continued, "can you hear me? I will get us out of here…."
"I have finally found you… I will keep my promise to you, and I will keep you safe this time…" the voice drifted off. Then everything was once again quiet.
***
Opening her eyes, Rosalyn grumbled to herself for falling asleep while she was waiting. Luckily it seemed as if her headache was finally subsiding.
She seemed to have heard a voice while she was asleep, quietly whispering to her. But it called her the wrong name. Or maybe it wasn't calling her at all. But why would she dream about someone calling out to someone else?
To someone she didn't know?
Well, it didn't really matter.
There was no longer any light in the basement. So, nighttime? She looked towards the window, trying to see what time it was. It was completely dark outside, not even moonlight was coming in to illuminate their prison.
She could no longer see the other two there in the basement, but she could hear the guy in the corner mumbling. She could no longer hear the child snore. Was the child still there? She tried to look.
She couldn't see him in the darkness, but she also didn't really want to talk, in case it would invoke interest from their captures. She couldn't even be sure they weren't in the room with them at this very moment.
So, she lay still, trying to listen, trying to make her sight adapt to the darkness. But she only heard mumbling. No creaking from the floorboards above them, no guards talking in a foreign language, no birds chirping outside, just incoherent mumbling from the guy in the corner.
She tried to listen to the mumblings but couldn't make out the words being said. Listening closely, he seemed to be repeating either a short phrase or a long word. It sounded like four syllables, but she couldn't be sure.
Staying still for an unknown amount of time, just listening to make sure they were alone, she didn't know how much time had passed. Deciding that it was as safe as it was ever going to get, she whispered in the lowest voice she could muster.
"Hello? Is the child still here?"
But there was no response. The mumbling guy just kept mumbling his four syllables, not giving any indication that he had heard her or even registered that she was talking.
Having slept on her shoulder for an unknown amount of time, she could feel it going numb and starting to hurt.
Not hearing any sound from the child, she wondered if they might have taken it.
They wouldn't really harm a child, right?
She had never really been fond of children as they tended to be too rowdy for her taste. But… there was something about the child she had seen lying on the floor, covered in dirt. Even though she originally felt apathetic to anything and everything around her, she still felt something for the child.
A child was still a child in the end and should not be subjected to the horrors of adults.
Trying to forcefully adapt her sight to the darkness, she once again tried to look for the child but could not see him.
Deciding that she would have to take the risk of moving to maybe look around for the child, she once again listened out for their captors.
Not hearing them, she rolled over to her other side, so she could try to see what was behind her.
And there she saw him.
The child was no longer asleep, but was sitting against the wall, his legs curled up under his chin.
He was looking warily at her.
"Hi…" she tried, her voice coming out croaked. Shouldn't their capturers at least give them some water to keep them alive?
The young child just looked at her, not saying anything.
Her eyes finally adapting a bit to the dark allowed her to look at the child in more detail.
It was a young boy with short brown hair, a round face and cute chubby cheeks.
He was dirty, and his clothes were torn in several places.
She really couldn't understand how someone could allow a child to end up in this state.
But then again, they were kidnappers... Guess most kidnappers didn't really care if one of the people they kidnapped got dirty... At most it should be better just that the child didn't have any visible wounds on his body.
Seeing that the child was mostly alright, except for being a bit dirty, Rosalyn left him alone. She just wanted to know that he was still there, it wasn't all that important to actually connect with him.
After looking at the child for a bit longer, making sure she hadn't missed any big wounds, she slowly turned around again.
The child had been sitting against the wall under the small window, which meant that the opposite wall was where the door leading out of the room should be.
She once again listened for their captors but heard nothing beside the mumbling of the other guy.
Deciding that it was time to try to find a way out, she tried to feel her bound hands, looking to find if she could get herself loose. She couldn't.
Her hands were bound so tight that even the feelings in her hands were going numb.
She tried to look around the room for something to cut herself loose, but the room was empty except for the three of them. Well, there was a bucket in one of the corners, but she would rather not think about what that was for.
Feeling the situation feel more and more hopeless, she tried to get up to her feet.
She could try and escape, even if she had to jump with her feet tied together the entire way.
And if she could just get out of the door, she might be able to find something outside she could use to cut herself loose.
With these thoughts in mind, she got up on her feet and tried to jump quietly to the door.
Standing in front of the door, she placed her ear against it, trying to listen for any sounds outside.
She heard nothing.
Deciding that it was all or nothing, she turned around so she could try and open the door with her bound hands.
Feeling around the door with her hand tied behind her, she fumbled looking for the handle.
Growing increasingly worried that she might lose the right time, or that the captors would be back, she hastened her search. her hands finally captured the handle. Taking a deep breath, she tried pushing it down to no avail. It was locked...
*Klick*
Hearing the sound of the locked door, Rosalyn quickly put her ear against the door to make sure she hadn't been heard.
She stood frozen still, concentrating all her senses to listen. Listening. Listening. Her heart racing, she waited in suspense.
Thump, thump.
She heard steps coming from outside.
She had been discovered.
Hastily trying to jump back to her original place, she fell down, crashing heavily to the floor.
Did they hear?
Having no time to acknowledge her pain as she fell down and scraped her cheek, she gritted her teeth together to keep herself from making a sound, wiggling away from the door.
She felt she might be bleeding but wasn't sure.
She had no time. They were getting closer.
She turned around so that her face was away from the door and lay as still as she could.
Trying to quiet her breathing, which had become rapid from the adrenalin, she forced her body to be as still as possible.
The footsteps were coming closer and closer until finally, she heard click at the door. Someone had unlocked it.
She looked towards the young child; his face clear before her.
His eyes were big. He was worried. She could see him slightly shivering, making his body smaller as he curled up to a ball, hiding his face in his lap.
The door opened, and she heard several footsteps coming in.
"Hey! Who the fuck tried to open the door?!" a male voice growled. She couldn't place his accent, but it sounded gruff and unrefined.
Rosalyn lay still, trying not to draw attention.
"Hey, Matt, take it easy," another male voice sounded. It was light and cheery, a big contrast to the first voice.
"Shut the hell up, John! Don't you dare try and make light of this! One of these fuckers tried to open the door. Do you even know the consequences if they escape?!"
'So, there are two men,' Rosalyn reasoned to herself. If there were only these to, they might be able to take them out or evade them. The problem would be if there were more.
But if she could get the mumbling guy to help her, they might be able to find a way to escape. She would have to try and talk to him later... After they found a way to cut themself loose.
"Fine, fine Matt... I'll listen to you," John quipped back in a light tone.
"So," Matt started in a dark tone, "who of you three fuckers tried to open the door?!"
She could hear him walking further into the room, closer to where she was laying. Rosalyn's heartbeat quickened and she once again focused on trying to breath as quietly as possible. Making her presence as small as she could.
Her heart beat faster and faster, matching the pace of the angry steps closing in from behind.
The steps seemed to stop right behind her. She lay as still as she could, all her senses locked into the man now behind her. All she could hear was his breathing. Short, angry puffs.
Then a loud sound of something shattering against the wall sounded. Her whole body froze as she suddenly saw Mark, the anger in his eyes as he threw the wine glass at her.
She knew he couldn't be here, not in this basement. It was only her mind reacting to the recent trauma. If she just opened her eyes, he would no longer be in front of her. He would be gone.
But she couldn't. It was as if her body was no longer her own, refusing to listen to her commands.
The Mark in her mind was closing in on her. She could feel his menacing aura. His wish for violence against her. She was scared. There was no soothing voice to help her now.
Before she could even try to balance and gather herself, her hair was forcefully grabbed, and her body lifted up from the floor.
As if the spell was broken, her eyes flew open and landed on the young boy in front of her. His eyes met hers and she could see the terror residing within him.
This was her fault. If she hadn't tried to open that door, there would be no reason for him to be so scared now. There would be no reason for the guards to come into their room.
She had no plans as to what to do now that they were discovered. She hadn't planned for the guards to actually be outside, and that they would react as soon as there was even a little sound.
Feeling the great pain in her scalp as her bodyweight was held up by her hair, she cursed to herself.
Weren't kidnappers, especially the ones guarding a dingy basement, supposed to be dull? How come no novel had prepared her for the guards to actually be on guard? and alert?!
This was not part of her plan... This was supposed to be easier. There were no sounds outside, so shouldn't the guards either be asleep or neglecting their duty?
How come, the one time she got kidnapped, the guards were actually doing their job?!
And what now? Now the young child was terrified, and she would most likely get harmed like the mumbling guy. Maybe even tortured...
She averted her eyes away from the young boy and looked at the man holding her by her hair.
"Ha, are you done pretending to be asleep?" he leered, the mocking clear in his voice.
He was surprisingly thin for someone able to lift her entire weight with only one hand.
She didn't know why, but as she was laying with her eyes closed, hearing him stomping closer, she had imagined a large, muscular man, one she would instantly be able to recognise as a 'bad guy'.
But this man; he looked far to normal. In a weird sense, she felt disappointed.
He must have seen the disappointment in her eyes, for the next moment she was thrown back to the floor, almost crashing into the young boy.
"What the fuck kind of gaze are you giving me, you whore?" the man yelled, as he kicked her.
Rosalyn felt the air expel from her body, her vision growing blurry. As she was about to lose consciousness, she heard the deep, soothing voice she had heard when she was with Mark, telling her to stay awake. To not lose consciousness.