She could still here him moving around the upper floor. Earlier it had sounded like someone had been beating on the door. He had hurried upstairs, cursing as if he half-way was expecting someone, but was irritated, as if he was interrupted from something. Could this be the savoir that she needed so badly, or just another tormentor?
She listened closely, for anything. But it just sounded like he was upstairs pacing the floor. She could hear hushed voices, but couldn't isolate whether it was one person of more. Since she had barely heard her captor talk, she really wasn't able to decifer is voice through the floor. But from the pacing (or at least the sound of it) it was very frantic. As if for the first time since she had seen him, he didn't know what to do or where to go.
She couldn't tell how long that she had listened before it go quite. After a few minutes, someone got up and started walking. Almost sounded like sets of steps. Both seem to be heading toward the door to the basement. By now she had almost worked the weld loose. She had been pulling on the weld, since the minute she heard the door close the first time he left. She thought that she could feel it giving, but couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just her hopes and desperation. But she had been pulling like hell and was sure she wasn't doing it for nothing. By then the steps had finally reached the door. She could hear the doorknob turn . . . and then it stopped.
The door slammed open, banging hard against the back wall of the doorway to the basement. She heard a hard thud, like smack of a KO'd boxer hitting the mat. Then a thumping like something tumbling down the stairs. It continued until a final thump on the hard cold basement floor. She looked out from around the support beam that she was still crouched behind. She could just see a hand laying on the floor right outside of the shadows of the rest of the unlit basement. She stared for a minute, waiting in silence, the sound of her labored breathing seemed to blast through the silent room, like music at a block party. As looked, she started to see the scarlet color of blood starting to run down the slight slope of the basement reaching out for the shadows that she hid in. She finally heard a slight rustling of footfalls. Like the other person in the room was wearing windsuit pants. She could hear the friction of the legs of the pants rubbing together as the person moved through the room. She could smell must. The putrid odor of something rotten. Or the unkept smell of body odor.
She dared take a peak around the support, fearful of what might have happened. Who was it laying there on the floor, their blood spilling out over the basement floor? And who was it that was still stirring in the shadows? Was it her captor, just trying to put her in a scare again? And if it wasn't, who was it? She had to find out, couldn't sit this one out. No matter what happened to who, she felt that this was her best chance, if any, to escape this hell that she was a prisoner of.
She looked around the corner. And slowly started to walk out in the direction of the stairs. She had never really tested how long her leash was, so she decided now was the time to find out. More than likely he wouldn't have made the mistake of making it long enough where she could get to anything. But then when it comes to pretty women, men aren't very smart. Not that she considered herself all that attractive. She hadn't had a lot of relationships with men, and the ones that she did have never ended happily. Most of the men that she had dealing with, didn't take long to show their true colors. So for some time she had not had a relationship with many. But that was not the thing to be on her mind. She needed to focus on what was happening here and now. She reached closer and closer to the still hand laying on the floor. Until she reached about two feet from it, she felt her chain pull taunt. She looked back and could see that she could go no further. She tried to peer outside of the shadows, to see if she could see the face of the person laying on the floor, but he was laying stomach down, and his neck was twisted in the opposite direction.
She heard a rustle. She spun around! He was there! Right in front of her! Wait it wasn't HIM, it was someone else, and didn't look any more friendly than he did. He reached up to grab her by the neck, but she swiftly dodged him and ran around behind him. He turned to her to try and grab her again. But as she had retreated further back, her chain had become loose. She grabbed the chain and whatever it was, instinct, fear, or adrenhilne, she wipped that chain, up and around his wrist, like throwing a spinning chain on drill pipe. She yanked as hard as she could pulling the chain so that it would twist on his wrist, like the choke chain on a dog.
He yelped, as the twisting of the chain, tore his skin, bringing blood to the surface. The swiftness in which she had yanked the chain had even twisted his wrist to the point of extreme pain. He reached out and grabbed the chain, further down from his arm, and feriously pulled at the chain with all his might. The last thing that he heard before he saw death, was the loud snap of the weld finally giving way from the support beam.
When he grabbed the chain, he grabbed it past where she had wrapped it around his wrist. So when he grapped the chain past his wrist he didn't realize that he wasn't pulling her towards him. And when he did yank the chain, the weak weld finally gave way, and the welded hunk of metal that the fastening fixture was welded to came off and flew directly toward him, smacking him in the forehead. To be honest it was still lodged in his forehead. It had cracked right through his skull, burying it deep inside his brain.
She stood over him, looking at him. She could still see the flicker of life in his eyes and the slowly blinked, as the brain was dead but the body was still going. She looked down at the man, all dressed in black, and nylon mask over his head. He had a gun stuffed in his pants. She stared down at the gun for what seemed forever. She wanted to take it, but really didn't know what to do with it, as she had never owned or fired a gun. Finally she reached down and pulled it out of his pants.
His hand lashed out! Grabbed her by the wrist! The grip was impossible to break. Without a thought, she pulled the trigger, and the gun fired into his leg. At such close range the bullet tore right through his leg, smacking hard into the basement floor, sending cememnt chips and blood splattering into the air. His hand dropped and she pulled away, firing another shot to his chest, the sound of the gun firing reverbarated throughout the empty basement. And finally his eyes dropped closed and he laid still.
She stood there shaking. What to do? Am I free finally?
May U Live 2 See The Dawn
