The Safe House (Hae-Ri)
At last, the car came to a stop. They were at the back of a rather large structure of maybe two levels, and pulled up in front of a heavy metal gate. It was comprised of thick bars that were just far enough apart to allow a random small animal the size of a cat come out of what Hae-Ri assumed was a garage, just when her captor opened the door and got out of the car, leaving the motor running.
Completely forgetting that nature had called, she looked curiously as he faced the wall to the left of the gate, standing with his back to her. She couldn't see what he was doing, but suddenly the gate started moving, just as her captor tuned and quickly got back into the car. He drove past the gate, going further in than she expected. She turned around just in time to see the gate closing more than a dozen meters behind them.
The interior looked more like a cave than a garage, unpaved and gravely, the only light inside was coming through the gate, covering the cambered unhewn stone walls in shadowy stripes. He parked the jeep in front of a door, between a black sedan and a big white van, both with dark, tinted windows. Turning off the engine and taking out the key, he stepped outside once more. He stood with his back to her again, but this time she saw him push his hat back and lean forward for a few second, then pull the hat back down and open the door. It was much thicker than she expected and seemed a lot heavier than your average door.
It took another moment for him to turn back after leaving the door wide open behind him. Walking swiftly past the car, he went on to open the trunk, rummaged through it, then closed it, and appeared at her window a second later. She looked up at him, but as usual, all she could see was his ears, hat and mask, his head hanging low, his shadowed eyes hidden from her. He pulled the door handle and opened it very, very slowly, making her arm stretch out of the car. He then unlocked the cuff that bound her to the door and opened it all the way, closing the distance between them.
He shoved the key into his pocket and reached inside, grabbing her uncuffed arm. She tried to resist and free herself from his iron grip with little effect, but her captor experienced no difficulty and went on to cuff her wrists to each other, again. He grabbed both her arms and tugged slightly, signaling that it was time for her to get out of the car. Exasperated, she turned around, moving both her legs to the right so they hung out of the car, and was about to jump down when he suddenly bent over. Pulling her cuffed arms behind him, he made her fall forward, and used the momentum to pick her up over his shoulder for the second time.
"Ya!", she shouted and tried to wiggle away as he picked up a couple of bags from the ground, but her resistance, much like before, was futile. Feeling completely disregarded, she was carried away, her hair like a waterfall over her head, as she hung upside down with her face to his back. Her captor smelled strongly of sweat, blood and dirt.
She tried to kick using her good leg, but it made her injured foot rock uncomfortably. Instead, she settled for hitting his back with her fists, but that also seemed to have little impact as her captor just kept his stride, with her dangling from his shoulder. It could have been significantly less objectionable if she didn't need to use the bathroom, as his shoulder was pressing hard against her abdomen, putting pressure on her bladder.
"Put me down, I'll walk!", she shouted while struggling, sounding more miserable and desperate than angry, which fit quite well with how she felt. She didn't expect much of a response, and sure enough, was completely ignored as he carried her into the structure, stepping into a brightly lit corridor, closing the door behind them. Hae-Ri could hear the heavy automatic lock slide into place with a series of consecutive clicks.
He carried her up a flight of about twelve stairs, then came to a stop at a landing, dropping the bags he was holding to the floor. She couldn't see why he stopped or what he was doing, until she heard a robotic female voice say "approved" a few moments later. He picked up the bags and walked past another thick door, this one too was automatically locked once he closed it. Bending down, he put her on the floor and didn't let go of her until she was steady, balancing on her right foot while keeping the left one in the air, so as to not put any weight on it.
Hae-Ri looked around as her captor let go of her and walked away, disappearing into a dark open room to the left. She didn't know what she expected to see, but it wasn't this. It was a modern, western style studio. What seemed to be a heavily curtained window was in the living area, on the far wall opposite to the entrance. The space was occupied by a coffee table at the center, and a yellow sofa with large cushions against a wall to the right, facing a flat screen TV that was standing on a humble wooden entertainment unit against a wall that divided the space halfway through.
There was what looked like a portable air conditioner in the far-right corner, next to the sofa, and a low, small side table to the sofa's other side. Next to it was a closed door, and further along the wall was a wooden dinning table and a good-sized kitchen beyond it, just around the entrance to the right. On the other side of the generous common space was what seemed to be a bedroom. Though it was not entirely open, the entrance to the room was very wide and didn't flaunt a door. She could see a bed and a chest of drawers, but there was more to it behind the wall that separated the the bedroom from the living room.
Surprisingly, the lights in the apartment were very bright. Hae-Ri didn't expect to find electricity in this part of Kiria. She glanced to the bedroom just in time to see her captor disappear behind the dividing wall, and decided to take the chance to explore. She turned around and wrapped her fingers around the door handle, turning it very carefully, hoping that it was locked only from outside. Finally, something was going her way. The door wasn't locked.
She looked to the bedroom again, making sure her captor was out of sight, then slowly pulled the heavy door open, when suddenly it loudly slammed in her face, the handle escaping her grasp. She looked to her right in surprise, and found him standing close behind her, looming over her head with his palm flat on the door. She quickly looked away. She didn't plan to run away right this instant anyway, since she wouldn't get far in her state, unless she stole a camel, maybe. Even so, it still annoyed her to get caught.
Her captor pressed a stack of neatly folded pieces of fabric against her stomach, forcing her to grab it. He then held her elbow firmly as he guided her to the mystery door next to the sofa, supporting her weight as she heavily limped along. He opened the door, walked her inside, took a little key out of his pants pocket, removed her handcuffs, stepped out and closed the door behind him, leaving Hae-Ri staring after him, dumbfounded.
Hae-Ri blinked a few times, feeling like once again the unexpected guy threw her off, then recovered herself with a shake of the head and looked around the room. It was a bathroom, thank heavens. She dropped the stack of unidentified items to the floor and hopped on one leg to the toilet that was against a wall to the left.
She was surprised once more when the toiled successfully flushed and water came out of the faucet when she turned it on to wash her hands. As far as she knew, there was no main pipeline or powerline in the more remote, less inhibited parts of the desert, much like this one. Yet somehow, the apartment didn't seem aware of that fact. She didn't know how it was possible, but was grateful for it just the same.
Relieved of her burden, she could finally breathe easy and take her time to explore. It was a rather spacious bathroom. On the corner to the left was a washing machine with boxes and bottled stack above it on a wooden shelf, a small whicker hamper next to it, and a couple steps to the right was the toilet. Far up above it was a barred, tinted window. She was disappointed to realize it will be impossible to escape through this room, but it was to be expected, otherwise he wouldn't have left her there alone, and without the handcuffs to boot.
There was an outdated vanity unit directly opposite to the entrance, with a two-door cabinet under the sink, and a tall, narrow mirror above it. On the far right of the room was a shower with large glass doors, and two lines of zigzagged hooks on the wall to the right of the bathroom door.
She went over to the discarded pile on the floor and started to go through the items, which proved to be a large towel, dark gray pair of sweatpants, short sleeved black t-shirt, and dark gray long sleeved hooded jacket with a zipper. She couldn't help but notice the lack of underwear. Of course, unless this guy was a raging pervert there was no reason for him to own women underwear. If you look at it this way, she comforted herself, it might be a blessing.
She grabbed the towel and brought it close to her nose, sniffing. Though it didn't possess the pleasant smell of laundry detergent, it smelled clean, and that was good enough. She picked up everything from the floor and straightened up with some difficulty, then hopped over with full hands to the hooks beside the door, hanging each item on a hook of its own.
Looking at the door, she was disappointed to find no key. She pressed her ear against the door, suspecting her possibly deviant captor was lurking outside, waiting for an opportunity to burst in, but she heard nothing. She then stooped low and peered through the key hole, but he was nowhere in sight. Straightening up, she quietly turned the handle and stepped out through the open door, looking around, searching for him. She found him busying himself in the kitchen with his back to her, seemingly uninterested. Going back inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, thinking.
Though a shower would be absolute bliss, she didn't feel comfortable taking her clothes off and leave herself helpless and exposed in the presence of a strange man of questionable morals, unable to lock the only barrier that separated them. She looked around the room, frustrated, when her eyes landed on a tall mop, resting next to the vanity unit. She hopped over and grabbed it, laid it flat on the floor with the rubber wiper against the door, and the edge of the stick under the cabinet, pressed to the wall. It was a tight fit, but the rubber gave and she managed to fit it in place. She gave it a try, and indeed, the door was stuck in place when she tried to pull it open.
Satisfied with the result, she went to sit on the toilet after closing the lid. She took off her socks and elastic bandage, which left interesting red patterns on her skin under it, then proceeded to take off her jacket and dress, and threw everything but the bandage to the hamper. She removed the wrapping from around her wrists, noticing they looked much better, and dropped them in the little bin that was pressed to the wall next to the toilet. She went on to remove her earrings, leaving them with the elastic bandage on the china counter next to the sink, and dropped her undies in it.
Hae-Ri hopped on into the shower, only to be let down by the absence of any soap or shampoo. She checked the cabinet, and lucky enough, she found in it bottles of face and body wash, shampoo and conditioner. She was also happy to see a few family packs of toothbrushes, toothpaste, toilet paper rolls, hand towels and a comb, among other things. She scooped out the toiletries and a hand towel and hobbled back to the shower, unfolding the hand towel and carelessly dropping it to the floor, before stepping in and closing the glass doors after her.
It was a bit challenging to shower while standing on one leg, but she managed nonetheless. The only problem was getting out of the shower without slipping on the wet surface. She very carefully limped her way out, stepping on the hand towel she prepared to dry her feet, then stretched herself to the left to get a hold of her towel that waited on a hook. After drying herself up, she quickly got dressed ah-la-commando style, for lack of other options, and wrapped up her ankle with the used elastic bandage.
Seeing as there was no way around it, she washed her undies in the sink, using a detergent she found on the shelf above the washing machine. She was wringing the water out when another dilemma presented itself. Where would she hang it to dry? She didn't want to do anything that this man might find as suggestive. Though spending some time around him, she found the possibility of him being a run-of-the-mill pervert unlikely, but that didn't make it impossible.
There was no place out of sight where she could hang the wet garments, and so she settled for hanging them on the bottom line of hooks, just under her towel, which she spread over the garments to keep them covered and hidden. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing and good enough for now.
Finding the makeshift concealment quite decent, she went on to stand in from of the mirror, combed her hair and brushed her teeth, allowing herself to use whatever was in the cabinet, feeling she was entitled to at least that, after being kidnapped and dragged out to this place. Finishing up, she picked up the mop from the floor and put it away, then opened the door and hobbled forward.
Shuffling out to the front room, what she found at the threshold made her feel rather perplexed. A pair of slippers waited for her just outside the door. This gesture was very familiar, and finally put her unconfirmed suspicions to rest. For a while she wasn't sure if she deduced correctly that her captor was Korean, even though he used the language. She deemed him as one anyway, and kept talking to him as if he was, though the fact that he never answered did make her wonder if he understood what she was saying. The fact that he never answered, even when she spoke to him in English, brought her to the conclusion that he was just unresponsive. It made no difference whether she used Korean, English or Icelandic, he wasn't going to respond. Now, seeing the slippers facing the front, just waiting for her to slide in, she was sure.
It was a bit difficult to put on the right slipper. Unable to put any weight on her left foot, she had to lean against the door paneling for support. Not a second after she managed to slide her foot in it, her captor appeared next to her. Carrying most of her weight by holding on to her elbow tightly, he led her to the to the kitchen table, and pulled out a chair for her. Disregarding her completely, he put both his hands over her shoulders and pushed down, forcing her to sit. She didn't bother to put up a fight, knowing it was bound to fail, and settled herself in the chair, just to find her captor retreating as soon as she did.
Hae-Ri was slowly getting used to the routine of staring after him, dumbfounded. She watched him as he went to the bedroom, disappeared behind the dividing wall. He then came out a few moments later with what seemed to be clothes tucked under one arm, and made his way to the bathroom.
Seeing him disappear behind the now closed door, Hae-Ri turned her attention to the table in front of her. There was a tall glass of water, a bowl of rice and another one with the familiar beans in tomato sauce. Quite the odd combination, she thought, but the rice was warm and freshly made, which was nice. She dug in and ate in a hurry, barely tasting anything, her mind in a whirl as she tried once more to make sense of her captor's intentions.
This man was definitely strange. His course of action was to either ignore her or do unexpected things, that under the circumstances were down right bizarre. She tried to survey his behavior, but not from a victim's point of you. It was true that he kidnapped her, ignored her, refused to reveal his face or open up his mouth and speak, but it was also true that he never tried to hurt her. He did keep her tied up for long hours, but he also took care of her, and while he forced her to an unknown place, he didn't seem to have intention to restrict her while inside. In fact, it looked like he was concerned about her wellbeing, for some reason. He treated her injuries, made sure she was fed, hydrated and warm, and most of all, he protected her during that gunfight.
If she was to be honest with herself, she didn't fear him at all and wasn't too worried when she was around him. She was that confident that this man was no threat to her. Even though there was no evidence that he wasn't planning something horrible for her in the future, or was about to pass her along to someone who wouldn't be too concerned about her wellbeing, her gut told her that this person was safe.
Stockholm syndrome? The thought came to mind when she couldn't think of a reasonable explanation for the way she felt. Even if she wanted to judge him by his actions, his first action - kidnapping her, she shouldn't put aside and ignore. There was no denying that she was there against her will, but it was also true that she wasn't too bothered by it, and even more so, that she didn't give it her all and focused her efforts on escaping. She could blame it on her injured foot, on the handcuffs, on her exhaustion, but the fact was that she had zero idea what she would do on her own.
She was targeted, she had no doubt. There was a bullet with her name on it not too far away, courtesy of Samael, probably, just waiting for her to make an appearance. She was also pretty sure the gunfight yesterday was about her escaping an assassination attempt, rather than about her captor going rogue. Even though a worse future might be waiting for her if she stayed with her captor, it was hard to ignore the fact that if she wasn't in this place right now, she wouldn't be anywhere at all. The ambivalence of her situation made her feel torn between what her instincts told her, and what she knew was the right thing to do.
Downing her meal in what could potentially be a Guinness record, she stood up, still holding on to that train of thought, and started to look for a way out. Though she didn't come to a decision to try and escape right away, it was a good idea to have a plan and a way out. She first tried the entrance door, but this time it was locked. There was no key hole, which meant the lock was controlled by the electronic security system. She knew the door led to the garage bellow, and thought there must be a front door to the "street', if you could call it that. Looking around, the only doors she could spot were the ones for the bathroom and entrance, and none more.
She limped her way into the dark bedroom. The head of the bed was against a far wall to the left, which flaunted a window. She climbed onto the bed, sucking in a breath when she carelessly put too much weight on her tender foot, and drew the heavy black curtain open. This window, like the one in the bathroom, was tinted and barred. By the look of it, she could just about fit her arm between the bars. Wanting to check for herself, she tried to slide the window open, but it too was locked while lacking an actual lock.
Not just an average security system, then…
She got off the naked double bed that was actually comprised of just a mattress with no linen, pillow or blanket, and went on to look around. There were several cardboard boxes in various sizes stacked against the wall to the right of the bed. She looked into one that was open and saw a stack of neatly folded towels, much like the one she used earlier. She looked in the next box and found oil bottles, flour and rice bags, and a few tin cans alongside other miscellaneous items. There were several 8 packs of water bottles piled at the corner, one bottle missing from the top pack. What was this guy preparing for, the apocalypse? There were provisions for months in that room alone. A grade A paranoid indeed.
She went back to the living room, going around the dividing wall, and limped straight to the window. She peered behind the curtain, and as expected, this one was also tinted, barred and locked. She went back to the door and patted along what she suspected was the control panel to the left. Sure enough, a keypad appeared on a touch screen, demanding a password. There was no indication of how many characters the code was comprised of. Having no guess as to what it could be, she punched in "1004", then tapped "OK", just to give the system a try. Of course, the system announced quite loudly "code incorrect" in the voice of an American robot. She automatically turned to look at the bathroom, expecting her captor to make a sudden appearance, but the sound of running water kept coming from behind the door, which remained closed.
"You bitch…", she hissed under her breath, giving the control panel a dirty look for announcing her failure, and gave up without much disappointed. She had no expectation to crack what was surely a complicated code befitting a paranoid.
She hobbled to the kitchen, the realization that this place was hermetically sealed slowly sinking in. She knew there was nothing much she could do, because if there was, he wouldn't have left her alone, free to roam around by herself. She randomly opened and closed the different kitchen cabinets, finding glasses here and plates there, then moved on to the drawers absentmindedly. The first one was empty, and so was the next one, but the third was not. It was a cutlery drawer, flaunting a gleaming sharp chef knife. This she did not expect.
Hearing him turn off the water in the shower, she tightly grabbed the knife and hurried to the bathroom's door, preparing for his appearance. This was her chance. Though she didn't plan to run away from her curiously kind captor, solely for lack of a better alternative, she did plan to get some answers, and soon.