Chapter 13.
Teresa Lisbon
Ow, ow, ow, cramp! Dammit, this cold is seizing my body up; there has been no food delivery this morning, it was even colder overnight and I'm not in the best mood. The fear has been replaced by anger now, if that son-of-a-bitch comes in here, I am seriously going to kill him! All I want is a few answers and something to shut my stomach up, but I doubt that is even going to happen. I miss Jane, I miss Cho, I miss them all…I hope that they are not all in this situation; being stuck in someone's basement in the freezing cold with no food or water. What I would give for a single sandwich… He's here, he's outside the door, listening.
"Are you awake, Teresa?" He calls.
"What do you want?" I snap at him.
"No need to be like that Teresa; I hope you don't act like that when Patrick is here," his answer takes me back.
"Patrick?" I parrot, "what do you mean 'when he is here'?"
"He'll be here soon," the man replies, "it won't take them long to get here."
"Why? Why do you want them here?"
"He...well, it'd be nice to see his smiling face again," he tells me slyly, "besides, I'm sure he would want to talk to me about this situation in particular."
"Who are you?" the words pass my lips before I am able to stop them.
"Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon," he chuckles, "surely you know who I am. You have been chasing my tail for so long that you have nearly caught me on some occasions, but I have always been that one step ahead of you and your team."
I freeze, that feeling of anger that appeared before dissipates into oblivion; instead I am left with this dreading feeling pooling in the pit of my stomach.
"What do you want?" I ask, my voice shaking.
"I want to end this, once and for all," he answers, "although playing games with Patrick has been fun, there comes a time when all great things must end, otherwise, they become tedious and well...dull."
It goes eerily silent, the wind whistles loudly outside and falling snow collides with the window pane. And then the footsteps begin to fall heavily away from the door, he's leaving.
"It's him, it's really him…" I whisper to myself.
You need to get out of here, interrupts the little voice.
I roll my eyes at it and start to think; there are only two ways out of here, one is through a door which is about half an inch of wood, and with nothing to pick the lock with…my only other option is the small rectangular window; I don't think that it has snowed overnight, it has melted slightly and just over the top of the snow pressed against the window pane I can see a few tree trunks in the distance. If I can get the window open, with a bit of manoeuvring, I might be able to get out! The key I found yesterday is in still in the lock, from the hinges on each side, the window opens outwards, so it's gonna take a while for me to clear the snow on the outside. It takes a few tries before the stiff lock finally opens and the window shifts a few millimetres outwards, letting in an icy cold draught. Before I continue, I pull the blanket over my shoulders to ward off the cold and then I continue with my escape plan. Millimetre by millimetre the snow budges, allowing the window to open more and more…until it finally gives way in a single go. Something snaps…what's that faint ticking noise…
OW! CRAP! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? My head feels like it has a drum kit in it and my hand is burning. I bring my uninjured hand to my temple to find warm liquid dribbling down my face. I open my eyes; at first everything is blurry…there is a figure moving around, could it be…
"Patrick?" I whimper.
Suddenly everything comes into focus and the figure is not Patrick; this person is tall and is wearing a black hooded cloak, complete with a creepy Halloween mask.
"I'm surprised that you wanted to escape Teresa," the mask moves slightly as he talks, "I give you food, a bed and shelter from the cold, and this is how you repay me?"
"What happened?" I ask him, trying – unsuccessfully – to sit up.
"I booby trapped that window," he replies, walking towards me, "that's quite a bad burn on your hand; here, let me tend to that," he pulls a bandage from a nearby bag and lifts my wrist up.
When I try to snatch it away, he grips it harder and wraps the cloth tightly around the wound, I curse at him through gritted teeth as the pain is unbearable.
"Hold still Teresa," he tells me as he smears the blood around my face, "there," he stands back to admire his handiwork.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask him, "why are you patching me up?"
"I can't have you looking in a state when Patrick comes, can I?" he replies, "I sent him an invitation to join us, if I am not mistaken, he and your team should be here soon."
"And what happens when they get here?"
"Ah, you'll have to wait and see won't you?" he teases, "the breadcrumbs have been set, not it is time for them to follow."
"If you lay one finger on any of them…" even as I say it, I know it is an empty threat.
"You'll do what?" he interjects, "here's the rub, Teresa, you have no ground to stand on, this meeting can only have one victor, there has only ever been one victor," he adds confidently.
"So what happens? You kill us all and then move on? Kill over and over again to your heart's content, with no-one to stop you?"
"Pretty much what I had in mind," he replies, almost humorously.
He stands there a moment before lifting me up in his arms and carrying me back down the stairs, landing on each of the boards with a heavy thunk! We reach the bottom and we make it down a narrow corridor to the basement. A strong breeze now blows through the glassless window and he lays me down on the bed, small fragments of glass shatter under the soles of his boots, leaving little piles of glitter like shards on the floor.
"I'd be careful where you step," he tells me before leaving the room and locking the door shut again.
A/N: My internet is being funny with me at the moment, so it might be a while until it is running again - hopefully, it won't and the next chapter will be along soon. Thanks for reading, CallMeHannah. x