The Escape

3rd Person Mode

Unique sat in her hospital bed, her wrists in shackles once again, chained to the headboard. She lied there, looking to the plain ceiling, and sighed, bored. She looked to each of her wrists, struggled a little, and sighed again, looking once more to the ceiling.

"I'm so bored," she merely said. She sat up and looked to the door, pulling herself from the shackles. "I've gotta get out of here," she concluded. She fought with the cuffs, twisting her wrists and grunting as how irritating it was that the cuffs seemed so loose, but wouldn't free her. She wriggled one wrist, the metal cutting into her skin. She closed one eye and held back the tears when she succeeded in freeing herself by one hand, and then working fiercely with the other until both of her wrists, slightly injured, were freed.

She scurried to the door excitedly and pulled at the knob and twisting it also, but it wouldn't turn.

"Come on, come on, damn you," she mumbled under her breath, moving down where she was eye-level to the keyhole. Moving back to her bed, she pulled the mattress up and plucked a rusty spring from underneath. She returned to the door and jammed the spring into the socket and turned it several times impatiently until she heard a click. She grinned. "Yes," she said with confidence, and turned the knob to step out into a dark hallway.

1st Person Mode

"Where am I?" I thought. Even in the very dim lighting, I noticed several doors were lined against the wall and adjacent to my own room. I followed the cold cement ground to the end of the hall, hoping for something new. A light flickered above, and I saw that there were only other doors as that of my own. My original room door had slammed shut, and I jumped, surprised.

I returned to where I had began and decided to take each room, one at a time. The nearest doorknob, I groped for, and I jumped when I felt an aura of danger on the other side, but nevertheless, I stepped forward into the unknown.

As the other room before, the door slammed shut when I stepped through. What I saw beyond there seemed so familiar, it was frightening. It was my own home, and not some masquerade, or so I had hoped. I wondered if this was now a dream.

When I looked down to the notice the firm floor beneath me, I noticed that my clothes had converted to the pair that I had decided on whilst I had been in my fake world: a black tanktop and baggy, dark jeans. Rather confused, I pressed forward still and down the hallway towards my late sister's room. My heart thumped so hard, it pained my chest. I was frightened.

When I stepped into her room, there was fresh blood on the ground and bedspread, but a gap was present where her body was supposed to be. An empty space on bed where no blood had touched. I heard an irritating clicking noise and looked to my feet to notice the tape player had run out of cassette. I picked it up, my fingers feeling numb, and I rewound the tape to the beginning, and then began to play it back.

I heard a struggle, Miranda squeal lightly, and a man's gruff voice that couldn't give any words. My eyes burned with anger, wondering who it must've been. At last, I heard him talk.

"A mere mortal," he exclaimed. "How can a lowly girl have such strength? It matters not. The Seeker of Envy has been suppressed. My work is done here."

Not much could be heard after that except for white noise that blasted out a screeching siren. I stopped the recorder and dropped it to the floor. I heard a door slam inward from the weight of someone nearing me. Two police officers stormed to the room and I shielded myself when the door behind me splintered. I began to explain what had happened when they merely walked through me, as though a poltergeist. I stood there in shock as they stood over the void where Miranda's body belonged.

One picked up the cassette player and played back the message that had been left. He laughed and crushed the tape with one hand, and placed it's remains in his pocket, then joined the other in the hallway.

"What was that?" asked the curious officer who watched the man crush some sort of contents.

"Just rubble," he merely said, and they departed from Miranda's room and deeper into the house. "Get an ambulance out here. Have that squad check the dead girl."

"You're sure she's dead?" questioned the other officer.

"I know she is," said the other with a suspicious smirk on his face, and he followed the squad to the outside of the home.

I stood there, dumbfounded. This couldn't have been real. If it was, if this is what really happened, then why did that officer act that way? Did he not find it such a big deal?

Now I was twice as angry. I wanted to know both the rapist and the heartless officer. I wanted both of their heads on a silver platter, if prefered.

What was I thinking? I couldn't have been thinking such things. They were crazy enough as it was, and I wasn't going to let my emotions make things worse. I followed after the police squad to the dark depths beyond my previous, silent haven.