CHAPTER 1: Day 23
She had worked up the courage to slip a dinner knife under her sleeve. Thankfully Oswald never watched her eat, instead he would send one of his henchmen to provide her meal. Their lecherous stares usually killed her appetite, but she was confident that the missing utensil would go unnoticed. She could barely contain her nerves as she knelt beside the door, trying to listen for any activity on the other side. She had no idea what awaited her, but she was going stir-crazy in the tiny room, willing to try anything to gain access to freedom.
The knife slid between the frame and the lock, she only needed enough force to break the seal. She prayed the noise would fall on deaf ears. She held her breath as the door jerked open. She quickly caught the door handle, holding it with an iron grip, ready to jump back in case one of Oswald's guards was standing watch. She heaved a sigh of relief as the seconds passed without retribution for her hasty lock pick.
She eased herself out of the room and melted into the wall. She found herself at the top of a long staircase, surrounded by a dim lit hallway. The wallpaper was instantly recognizable. She was in Mooney's club. Unbeknownst to her, Oswald's finances had only allowed him to renovate the front half of the lounge. She had to act fast while she had the courage. She crept down the stairs, careful to keep the creeks to a minimum.
It was eerily quiet. Her heart pounded in her ears, but reassured herself that it was a silent tell. With a deep inhale she sprinted into action, racing out of the hallway onto the open dance floor. She had reached the edge when a man appeared from the recesses stopping her cold. He was a good foot taller than her, dressed in a black suit, the light from above beaming over his bald head. It was the same man who had drugged her. His smile was unnerving. His absent eyebrows made the grin seem all the more malicious. "Hi there!" he waved his hand, while reaching out for her with the other. She was determined to get past him by any means necessary. She swung high, distracting him momentarily while she raked her nails across his face. He bellowed, reaching for something behind his back. She sped past him, searching for the door. "OSWALD, INCOMING!" Victor called out to his boss while he wiped the blood from his eyes.
She could see the light streaming in from the street, one more leap and she was home free. Her hope was cut short by a force that wrapped around her legs, pulling her down hard to the floor. She threw her hands around her face to buffer the fall, but was quickly rolled over on her back. She could hardly believe it was Oswald who had taken her down. He was breathing hard, trying to ignore the blistering pain in his knee from the sudden sprint. She struggled under him, still hoping to maneuver out from under him. He grabbed her wrists and heaved himself on top of her chest. The animosity in his eyes made her blood run cold. He was practically foaming with rage: "You really thought you could escape? You ungrateful bitch!" his voice was hoarse and cracked with the expletive. She thrashed against him, but his desire to keep her was stronger than she could possibly imagine.
"VICTOR-" Oswald summoned his hitman, but one look at the gash on his face caused him to reconsider. Victor had smeared the blood down his cheek and was still seething with rage. His gun was cocked, waiting for Oswald's permission to retaliate. "On second thought-" he was beginning to regain his composure, although his voice was still filled with bitter hostility: "Gabriel! Get her cleaned up for dinner...in the back." Her dreams of escape faded as the hefty henchmen slung her over his shoulder. She took solace in his name, and decided it was safer to be with him than the radiant fury named Victor Zsasz.