"BAM! HEHEH! GOTCHA GOOOOOOOD!" Kala shook her head to gain some clarity and was hosted into the air by the collar of her janitor suit. "Clowny bastard! You ain't gonna get me!" A huge bearded man roared at her. He was a patient. She knew him. He was the product of inbreeding in the backwoods of Kentucky, with an IQ low enough to be considered mentally retarded, and that mixed with mental instability and his size led to a dangerous individual.

She kicked at him, but was stopped as he slammed her back against a wall. "You's a little man! Easy to throw! You ain't gonna get me!" How's the suit not tearing?!

"LET GO!" She jerked.

"What?! You's a lady ain't cha?! Well ma'am that changes everythin'!" Sure enough he dropped her. Hey don't get raped. "S'been a long time since I got hold of a nice ass."

She scrambled to get her footing but was knocked back down by his bodyweight landing on top of her. "GET OFF!" Say something more effective! Longer? To the point! You can NOT lose it to this hick! They wrestled on the tile before he flung her arms above her head and began groping her. Feeling her hand brush something, she grabbed and retrieved a pencil from the scattered pile the got knocked off the counter.

"Mmmm, you smell pretty…and you soft too…"

She shook. You're about to kill someone. "Last chance, white trash. Hands off."

"No deal sweetcheeks. You cain't stop me, but gimme a minute and you'll be beggin' for mo-AW!" Insulted by his advances, she drove the pencil into his neck. "You little bitch!" He slammed her hands back again with one of his and with the other, tore open her janitor suit. So NOW it gives! She leaned forward and head-butt the pencil farther into his neck, finally causing him to gag. He released her and rolled over to pull out the pencil. Now's your chance, RUN! Her rational mind said flee, but an anger pent up inside her. He tried to rape you. What if he makes it out of here? He doesn't DESERVE life in prison. The scum doesn't deserve the joy of an execution. THINK about what he was going to do to you. His hands all over…

Dr. Crane sat forward, intrigued.

"Why isn't she run-"

"Shhh!" He shushed the henchman, "Because he deserves to die and she knows it."

She crawled over to the mound of fat and hair and reached for another pencil. As he withdrew the first, she replaced it with a second, stunning him long enough to drag it downward, slicing open the front of his neck. Blood squirted like a chocolate fountain hit a ceiling fan, splattered her mask and soaking his beard. She yanked the pencil out and stabbed it back into another point in his neck, only satisfied when the blood stopped squirting and the patient stopped squirming. Sure he was dead, she stood and brushed her hands on the legs of her torn costume, strangely satisfied and reeling from adrenaline. You got a kick out of that, didn't you? A smile found its way across her face. He coughed up blood? Badass! I should be shaken. Hell, I'm out of tears.

The same grin crept across her doctor's face. "Good girl. I told you she was capable."

"That was sick man!" Another henchman cried, clearly nauseated.

"SHE is sick. HE was sick. I am sick; we're all fucking sick. Get over it."

ARRRRRUUUUUUUUGAAAAAAA! How long has it been? Ten seconds? Ten minutes? Feels like forever. The SUV! Can't miss it! Dammit I got spun around! Where's the door?! Frantically, she scanned the area. The action seemed to be dwindling. Finally. She spotted the open door leading to a fire escape and suddenly her throbbing head and sore hands felt relief. While she sprinted for the door, she felt as if she was moving in slow motion. The cool night air beckoned her forward. The moon reflected on the rails. It was almost too easy. Freedom getting closer and closer. Her hellish nightmare was coming to an end at last.

As her foot crossed the threshold, so did another. "PEEK-A-BOO!" A tiny mutant girl whirled around from her hiding place behind the door and plunged a kitchen knife into Kala's abdomen. The girl squealed with laughter as Kala shrieked in pain. She crumpled onto her knees on the balcony. Her assailant squeaked and turned back towards the doorway. Kala caught her first, catching her off guard by catching her foot, tripping her, sending her bouncing and clanging down the fire escape; leaving dark stains on each stair she hit, finally she crunched as her body collided with the ground. There she lay, motionless and contorted.

With a deep, painful breath, she caught hold of the rail and hoisted herself upright, nearly fainting from the agony of her abdominal muscles clench around the sharp foreign body. She inched forward and lowered herself onto each step. Easy. One at a time. OW! Take it out! No, you'll bleed out! Leave it in. Trembling, she turned each corner until finally, the metal railing ended. What?! No! You'll have to drop the last few feet! You're tall-ish! She began smelling smoke and looked up towards the doorway which was now glowing orange. Great. Fire too. Hurry up before this heats up and barbeques you to death. Once again, she got on her knees, this time turning her back to the drop. Leaning on her right side as to not disturb the knife in her left, she leaned forward to extend her legs downwards. The tightening of her muscles as they lifted her legs became too much and gave out, sliding her over the edge.

She wailed as she crashed into the lawn, blacking out momentarily as even the handle of the knife disappeared into her torso. Open your eyes. Open your eyes! She did. Where's the SUV? Where's the black SUV? Gotta get to the SUV, he'll help me. No SUV. Nothing but dead grass and a huge fence. A big sky and big trees. A burning building behind her. No SUV. Where's the damn SUV?! She rolled onto her back and prodded gently at her wound. Pangs flooded upwards from the incision, her fingers met gooey flesh and wetness. Wincing, she looked into the distance for the car. I'm going to bleed out. I was right. He is going to let me die. Asshole.