Prologue
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC. All rights belong to AMC and Robert Kirkman.
Kat ran as fast as she could. She dodged and weaved the trees as they seemed to reach out to slow her escape. She had to get away; the monster was catching up. The branches scratched at her arms and face and caught on her clothing, leaving behind tears in her skin and clothes.
She was panting hard and beginning to tire. Adrenalin had initially taken over to push her to move faster but she was fatiguing quickly due to the small amount of food she had consumed over the last week. She did not know if she would have the energy to get somewhere she could get help. She didn't even know where the nearest help would be. She was in the middle of the woods and knew that no one lived for miles around. Anywhere would be better than where she was coming from. She had to find someone that would help her, anyone. She would need to find somewhere safe that she could lay low. She cursed that she had gotten away with nothing but the clothes on her back.
All of a sudden she caught her foot on the root of a tree and went crashing onto the forest floor. Pain shot up her leg from her ankle. There was no way she was going to be able to continue running now. She remained still for a moment; listening intently to see if she had outrun her pursuer. A slow rustling came towards her. Luck was not with her that night as she watched the monster appear through the trees, the evil eyes intent on her as she was sprawled on the forest floor. The monster had her in its clutches.
Kat struggled in his grip. She would not go back without a fight. He dragged her forcefully back through the forest, her attempts to get free diminished by how exhausted she was and the pain still radiating from her ankle. Eventually the small house came back into view; her prison. She was shoved through the door and heard him click the lock behind them with an awful sense of finality. After her escape attempt, she knew that it would be difficult for her to get another chance to leave.
He kept his painful grip on her arm and led her down the corridor. Despite his silence she could feel the rage emanating from him. However, he did not lead her back to her room as she had expected. He carried on to the door near the stairs. Kat renewed her struggles.
'No! No! You can't put me down there!' she struggled and yelled. Her yelling would not help. She was too weak to fight back against him and there was no one to hear her cries. He opened the door and pushed her through it. Unable to stop herself, she tumbled down the stairs.
'You stay there until you learn to appreciate the roof over your head, you ungrateful bitch' he yelled down to her. He then turned and locked yet another door, creating more obstacles for her to escape.
She stayed still for a while, afraid that she had seriously injured herself in the fall. She took stock of all of her body parts and was grateful that she seemed to have not injured herself too badly. She would be bruised and the fall had done nothing for her ankle. She slid herself back into a corner of the small room. She hated it down here. It was an underground storm cellar. It was small but had all the essentials within it. A small cot, stocks of canned food and bottled water, some first aid equipment and various other bits and pieces. The light had not worked for several years. You could hear nothing of the outside world down there. It was dark and quiet. She always felt so isolated down here. She would not let him break her spirit, she would keep fighting and eventually escape the abuse her father subjected her to. She would not be his punching bag for much longer.
Kat woke with a jump from the small cot as the door to the cellar slammed open. Although the storm cellar had been installed with the intention of having the lock on the inside, her father had quickly changed that shortly after she became the outlet for his anger after her mother left him. He appeared silhouetted in the doorway with his shotgun in his hand.
'Is that you making a racket down there?' he yelled menacingly. 'If you don't shut up, I'll come down there and make ya be quiet'.
'What?' Kat asked, confused. She was treading a fine line between not wanting to be punished for something she hadn't done but not wanting to say much in case anything she said angered him further.
He looked as if he was about to say something to her but stopped and turned his head to the side, listening to something that Kat could not hear from the cellar. 'You stay down here and keep yer trap shut' he snarled before slamming the door shut, leaving her in darkness again. He had clearly heard someone near the house.
Kat realised that if someone was near the house, it might mean someone could help her. She pushed herself off the cot and painfully managed to limp up the stairs. She began banging as hard as she could on the door and shouting, hoping that someone could help her. She knew that she risked being savagely beaten by her father on his return but it was worth the risk.
'Let me out! I'm down here! Get me out of here!' she screamed at the top of her lungs. No one was coming for her.