I woke up to more yelling. I looked up at the ceiling and strained my ears to make out what was being said as the sound made its way down to the cellar. Hoyt's familiar barking was easy enough to identify and as soon as it would stop another voice would pick right up after. It sounded like a woman's voice but I couldn't be sure. I sat up and tilted my head to better hear and could finally make sense of the screams.

"If you had done like I said this wouldn't be a fucking issue you goddamn idiot!"

"Don't you yell at him like that!"

"Momma, this doesn't concern you! Thomas you go get that girl and slit her throat!"

The sudden silence made me uneasy. It wasn't hard to figure out who they were talking about and it seemed as though my fate was abruptly decided. Realizing that my life was quickly coming to an end, I frantically began to look around for anything to get the braces off my ankles, but Thomas had made sure that any and all tools were out of my reach. The shuffle of footsteps overhead returned my attention to the ceiling as Thomas moved towards the door that led to the basement. The door opened and I stared unblinking at the dimly lit stairwell. My heart beat out of my chest as I heard the creak of the first step.

"Thomas!"

The footsteps halted and silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity, but was only seconds at most.

"Go get the girl and bring her up here."

"Momma?!"

"Charlie, I don't want to talk about this anymore. This is my house and I'll decide who stays in it and what happens to them and if Thomas wants to keep that girl I'm gonna let him."

The person on the stair was in motion again, only this time his pace was much faster. Thomas came into view and he quickly splashed through the water to the table where I sat. His eyes were bright as he pushed the blanket aside and removed the metal braces around my ankles. Despite the sudden freedom, I remained on the table, staring at the large man in front of me. His enthusiasm dwindled as he waited for me to move until his impatience got the better of him and he grabbed for my hand. On instinct, I pulled away though the sudden advance scared my voice from my throat.

"What's happening?" was all I could manage.

Thomas tilted his head at my words before extending his hand out to me and waiting patiently. Seeing no other options, I shakily placed my hand in his. He pulled gently and I finally moved. I swung my feet over the edge of the table which caused pins and needles to start running up my legs as blood rushed back to my limbs that had been held in one position for who knows how long.

I hopped off the table and my legs turned to jelly as they struggled to support me after being stuck in irons. I felt myself starting to wobble and I probably would have fallen back if Thomas hadn't been there. He quickly wrapped an arm around me and steadied me against him. Quietly I thanked him, as I stood on my own after giving my legs a few good shakes to get the blood flowing properly. He nodded and turned toward the stairs and started pulling me behind him. I let my hand slip from his and he quickly looked back, but when he saw me following behind him, he continued up to the house.

Thomas opened the door and my eyes burned from the light. He led me through the main hallway toward the dining room. As we walked I studied the rooms around us. The house was old and musty and, from what I could see, was in an alarming state of disrepair. The wallpaper was faded and barely clinging to the walls as we passed by. Chunks of plaster were missing from the ceiling though it seemed the spiders had tried their best to patch the holes. A particular scent caught my attention as we neared the kitchen. I couldn't place it, but it smelled amazing and reminded me that I hadn't had a full meal in some time.

Thomas halted abruptly and I nearly walked into him as I too busy trying to work out what I was smelling. Peering around the large man, I saw the family that occupied the home for the first time in its entirety. The first person I saw was Hoyt. He was glaring at me with an intensity that I had never seen before and I leaned a little further behind Thomas as I quickly shifted my gaze to look over the rest of the family. The man in the wheelchair that I had seen earlier refused to meet me in the eye again so I continued on to see an elderly woman looking me over. She didn't look happy but certainly not as angry as Hoyt. She was the first one to speak.

"It seems as though my boy's taken a liking to you," she said with a tone that gave off a bit of skepticism.

I took in her words carefully then looked up to Thomas. He had his eyes glued to the floor, which had suddenly become very interesting.

I turned back to the woman as she said, "You look awful child. How long have you been down there?"

Before I could answer Hoyt spoke up with a sneer, "Well momma, she's been down there 'bout three days now."

I stared wide eyed at the man as his grin grew even wider. Three days of my life were lost in that pit, though it did explain my intense hunger as I smelled whatever was cooking in the kitchen. Momma held a sympathetic look on her face as she looked up at my shocked expression.

"Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower and change before you join us for lunch. Thomas show her the way," she instructed.

Thomas snapped his head up and looked from me to his mother then back again. He grabbed my wrist and tugged me up another flight of stairs then ushered me into a room at the top of the stairs. Inside a queen-size bed stood by the only window on the far side of the room. Two tables sat on either side of the bed and one had a small lamp resting in the center of it. The window had tattered drapes that blocked the smallest amount of light. On the right side of the room stood an open door, which revealed a bathroom on the other side.

Thomas nudged my shoulder then motioned toward the bathroom before leaving and closing the door behind him. I gave the room another quick glance before I moved to the bathroom. It was small, but still had enough room to hold a toilet, vanity, and bathtub with a shower attached.

I peeled off my dirty clothes and let them fall onto the floor. I faced the shower and turned it on, but before I stepped in I looked at myself in the mirror above the sink. When Thomas's mother had told me I looked awful she was being nice. My short brown hair stuck out in a few different directions and dirt was smeared across my face - courtesy of Thomas. My forest green eyes stared at a reflection it hardly recognized. I sighed before I stepped into the shower. The hot water felt marvelous. Each bead of water eased away a fraction of the tension that my muscles had built up for the past few days until I stood relaxing with forehead against the wall and the stream from the faucet bouncing off my back. Glancing, to the little dish built into the side of the wall I spied a bar of soap that looked relatively unused and if I was being honest with myself I would have used it even if it was covered in someone else's body hair. I picked up the bar and started to scrape away the layers of dirt and sweat I had accumulated. When I was thoroughly rinsed of the grime, I stepped out of the shower and stared at the dirty clothes on the floor. I didn't want to put them back on, but I didn't see a better alternative. I grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and wrapped myself in it. I picked up the clothes on the floor and opened the door leading into the bedroom.

As soon as I opened the door I nearly slammed it shut again. Thomas was sitting on the bed with something next to him. He turned when he heard the door open and had seen my nearly naked form.

"What are you doing in here?" I demanded while glaring at him.

I watched him stand up, clutching a bundle to his chest, nervously. He moved closer and I saw that he was carrying my duffle bag. My gaze softened as I saw that he was trying to be nice. I held my hand out for the bag so he could deliver it to me. When he did I smiled and thanked him and waited for him to leave, but he lingered for a moment.

"Your name's Thomas, right?"

He nodded. I took the opportunity to look him over, now that we stood in a well lit room rather than the dark basement. He had greasy black hair that fell to his shoulders. His brown eyes stared over at me and I couldn't help but stare back at them. A leather mask covered half of his face and obscured his mouth and nose from view, but a reddish tint could still be seen at the corners of the material.

"Do you think you could wait outside while I change?" I asked when it seemed he wasn't going to move of his own accord.

He grew fidgety again before nodding quickly and scurrying out of the room. I couldn't help but smirk at his retreating form and moved into the bedroom. I tossed my bag on the bed and started going through it.

I put on my underwear before digging deeper into the bag and pulling out an outfit. I chose a pale orange button-up shirt with a cute flower pattern along the bottom hem. Next I slipped into some jeans. They flared out a little at the bottom but hugged nicely around my waist and thighs. I laced my brown leather belt into the loops of the jeans. Then finally I slid on my boots and walked back to the bathroom to see myself in the mirror. I ran my fingers through my hair in place of a comb before deciding that I looked decent enough. With a deep breath I walked to the bedroom door and stepped out.