Predator (DWT x OC)

12

The knock on the door sinks my stomach to the floor, a horrible dread spreading in my abdomen. I don't lift my gaze from the wall as the door swings noiselessly open, and Fundy steps into my cell. 

All I can think of is the knife he plunged into my arms. 

"Rosemary." He says. I turn my head to see him standing there, black jumper and pants, with a tray in his hands. He holds it out to me but I stay as still as I can, because there's no way in hell I trust him enough to go anywhere near him. The fact that he's just in my cell has already set me on edge, anxiety buzzing in my veins. 

He motions again for me to take the tray and I shift my body, turning fully to face him. He sets it down on the bed before me, and I cringe away from him, curling myself against the wall. Every time I look at him I can feel it, the way the knife traced deep into my skin, and the way my body shut down in agony. 

He steps back though, and I tentatively inch forwards, pulling the tray towards me and staring at it's contents, bread with water and what smells like rabbit stew. I dig in, taking small spoonfuls as I stares wearily at Fundy over my spoon. 

"I'm meeting with Dream again in half an hour" He mentions casually. I almost choke on my food.

"They'll listen Ro, and then you'll be out of here soon." He says, almost like he's trying to be comforting. It doesn't work.

"They're never going to make a deal with you." I respond, still tearing off chunks of bread. 

"They will!" He roars, and I lurch back in shock. He runs his hand over his face and lets out a deep breath. "They will listen." He says, much more quietly, as if he was reassuring himself. 

"And if they do? What do you think is going to happen next? L'manburg will never take you back after this, and the moment I'm back, Dream will come after you. He won't stop until you're dead." I snap, finishing off my water. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I told you before, they will let me back. They all know that you're a traitor, they don't care what happens to you." 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I roll my eyes, but I can't help but wince internally at the small sting in my heart. There's no way it could be true, but the irrational side of me still fills with doubt.

"Why did you betray us?" He asks suddenly, and I let out an exasperated sigh.

"I didn't."

"You got into bed with our enemy. He blew l'manburg up. He attacked us, trapped us in our land, refused to give us freedom. And yet, you lived in his house and sleep in his bed while the rest of us suffered." He snarls.

"You think I didn't suffer!?" I cry out in disbelief. "They locked me in a fucking room with no fresh air, and no sunlight, he even took the goddamn bed! I was held captive for months, from everyone I loved, my family and my home. And I don't know why, but I fell in love with him. Because it wasn't like I just hopped into his fucking bed for funsies while you guys fought. I love- I loved him. I started loving him a long time after Wilbur gave me up, by the way. Remember that?"

His face closes off, features impassive and frozen. He doesn't respond either, instead snatching the tray and cutlery out of my hands and turning on his heel, walking out of the door, locking it tightly behind him. I stay sitting on the bed, chest heaving. Time flickers by, the passing glow on the walls darkening as it grows later. I look up at ceiling, counting the rows of metal in the vent, and connecting the screws in the corners with each other. Then it hits me.

Fundy isn't here.

Fundy won't hear me use the fork to take out the screws.

Fundy won't hear me climb through the airways.

Fundy won't even know I've gotten out. 

I leap up, grabbing the fork out from underneath the mattress. I stand on top of the bed on my tip toes, straining to reach the ceiling. Thankfully, it isn't that tall, and with the fork I'm able to jab the prongs into the screw. I grunt as I try and twist it open, but the fork keeps fucking slipping out and I'm this close to losing my shit.

I bite the inside of my cheek, scowling as I twist my wrist awkwardly, trying to get the screw out. I manage to get it, and the rest follow, dropping onto the bed. I dive out of the way just in time, as the vent covering falls down to. 

Well I didn't really figure out how to get up there. 

Suddenly I'm terrified. What if Fundy was lying to try and see if I escaped? What if he's waiting at the other end right now? And oh my god, is he going to hurt me again?  What if the vent is a dead end? What if I can't even fit? This could go so so terribly wrong, and I can't face what would happen if it doesn't work. I should just wait until Dream finds a way to get me out. I'm panicking, too many terrible scenarios flooding my brain. 

But then the awful scars on my forearms swim into my peripheral and I only have one clear thought. I'm not staying in here a minute longer. I can, and I goddamn will get myself out of here.

  So I take in a deep breath and jump, my fingertips bashing the ceiling. I drop back down, collapsing in a heap. But I wobble my way back to my feet and try again, and this time my fingers curl around the ledge of the iron vent.

 I'm really regretting not paying more attention to my upper body strength now, and I almost start screaming in frustration as I painfully struggle to kick my way up, pulling desperately until the edge digs uncomfortably into my stomach. I pause, sucking in air as my legs dangle out of the ceiling.

I wriggle the rest of my body into the vent, which thankfully is large enough to fit me. It's horrifically tight though, and my heart pounds in my chest as I try not to start hyperventilating. I crawl on my stomach and elbows, pulling my way through the metal tunnel. It feels never ending, a complex twisted maze of to many corners and too many paths that look exactly the same. 

A rush of chilled air flows through the vent, and I can swear I smell pine and dirt. Spurred on, a wiggle my way through faster, and faster, until I see sunlight. Beautiful, bright, blissful sunlight peeking through a grate in the wall. I bang my fist against it, again and again and again, until I'm crying from the pain, the side of my palm and my wrist bruised and bleeding. 

I take in a sharp breath and punch it again, screaming in agony as it pushes the grate out. The grate tumbles to the ground. I crawl to the edge and look down. It's a a one story drop, but still a long way down. I can make it, but it'll be one bitch of a landing.

I don't let myself think about it though, and I launch myself forwards, quickly pulling my body vertical as I fall, air streaming past my ears. 

My tailbone forcefully collides with the hard earth, and I cry out in surprise and hurt. I'm lying, crumpled on the ground, fist stinging, tailbone throbbing, head pounding with dizziness as my body tries to understand what happened. I lie there, sobbing from the pain, my neck too stiff to move. 

Then I start laughing. Unhinged, crazy, maniacal laughter, as I'm sprawled out in the dirt like a mad woman. Because I got out. I actually got out. And yes, I'm hurt badly, and yes I need to get out of here before Fundy comes back, which could be any moment. 

I rise to my feet, gritting my teeth as I limp down a faint track left in the dirt, I can barely walk, clutching my injured hand and trying to stop the trees from swaying in my vision. I don't even realise I fell, until a jolt of dull pain hits me, and I feel my cheek pressed into the dirt. I want to lie here, free and alone in the woods, and just let the pain go away, let the sadness and emptiness go away, let it all finally go forever. But I have a family, and people I love and a home I finally feel safe in again.

And so what do I do?

I pick myself up off the ground and keep fucking walking. 

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A/N Yeah this was kinda powerful to write, I love the person that Rosie is so much because she isn't perfect, but she's still admirable and inspiring. I hope you guys love her as much as I do.

Please remember to vote and comments, I appreciate it so much and it means a lot to me.

I hope you enjoyed!!

Oopsies x