Arcanum Hominem (#1)

Chapter 89

They wouldn't let me out of my room. I didn't even want to call it my room. The room that was assigned to me. I was kidnapped, tortured, forced to witness my stepdad blowing my mom's brains out, and then shoved into a room that I couldn't leave. It didn't even have a window I could try to escape out of. It was my own little comfortable prison. I didn't want to be here. At this point, I missed Killian. His voice, his laugh, his touch. I missed Levi, Row, and Cleo. My little family. I took them all for granted. I wouldn't do that again. If I ever got out of here. The entire time I've been here, I haven't seen Archer since the first day, even though I was sure this was his place. I think I've been in this place for about a month now. A whole fucking month. 

I wondered if Killian looked for me. If Levi relentlessly searched for me, not ever getting up. If he was still searching for me. Was Killian? I knew I shouldn't dwell on things like that, but I literally had nothing else to do in this room except stare at the wall and get lost in my thoughts. There wasn't even a television in here. They sent me food every day, luckily it wasn't prison food or anything. It was real food, but still.  

I was currently sitting on the bed, planning my escape. I wasn't going to stay here for another month. I would give myself three weeks, but not a week longer. There was a specific rotation that happened every single day. At seven in the morning, breakfast came for me. They came an hour later to pick up the trash or whatever I had left on the tray. Then there was guard duty from nine in the morning until eight at night. Shift change was at two-thirty in the afternoon. In between shift change, there was a ten-minute block when no one was at my door. But was I willing to risk everything for ten minutes? And then I would have to find a way to get a key to lock the guards in the room so that no one would come after me. In the morning, when everyone was sleeping seemed to be the best time to try and escape. I could get one of the guards who brought my breakfast in the morning to enter my room all the way, like if I literally couldn't move to get to the door. I could grab his key out of his hand, knock him over the head or something and then leave. I would worry about all the obstacles on ground level later. My plan so far was to just go through the room where they tortured me and killed my mom because there was another door I noticed in there that led to outside. I could grab some car keys from the key holder they had and then leave. It sounded so simple in my head, and I hoped it was actually simple when I executed it. Then after I escaped, I was going to be healed up, and then I would trace where I came from in the GPS I program in the car I steal, and I will kill every single person in this house. 

That sounded like a good plan to me. It was good...right? I've doubted myself so much since I've been here. Another thing that wouldn't happen again once I left. Now that I had my plan ready, I wanted to execute it now, but I needed time. My wounds and bruises weren't healed enough, and I couldn't be weak while executing this plan. 

So for the next three weeks, instead of moping in my room and just planning in my head, I willed my body to become stronger. I forced myself to workout, using any and everything in my room to help make my body stronger. It was such a hard process, and I had to train my brain to see it as a healing process that required all my muscles. By the end of the three weeks,  my body was stronger than when I first got here. At least, that was what I would tell myself. If I told myself that, my mind would believe it. I was ready. The night before I planned to execute my plan, I made sure I had everything down. I couldn't slip up with knocking out the guard, or my plan would fail before I even began. I finally fell asleep, and the next morning came quickly. 

I woke up an hour before my breakfast would be delivered and made sure the bag I packed with extra clothes and anything else I found valuable was prepared. I was ready. Time flew by, and soon, there was a knock on my door. I quickly put the bag on my back and hid the small clock in my hand. That was what I was using to knock the guard out. 

"Come in!" I shouted at the door and slid to the floor, pretending my back was in pain. Or something like that. The door opened, and the guard stood at the door as he usually did, a frown on his face. 

"Food is ready." He said in a monotonous tone, and I groaned out in fake pain, clutching the clock in my hand behind my back. The guard narrowed his eyes at me. 

"I can't get up. I fell off my bed." I wheezed out, sounding like I was actually in pain. The guard huffed, looking left and right before entering the room. Perfect. While he placed the food on the bed, I quickly jumped up and slammed the clock on his head. He let out a hard grunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head before he fell to the ground in a large heap. I wasted no time and quickly grabbed his keys and hopped over his body, running out of the door. I slowed and closed the door softly, locking the door behind me. They wouldn't find him for another hour. 

I looked up and down the hallways before running down the stairs, looking out for anyone at the bottom. There was no one there, and I sped walked through the kitchen where there was one person with their back turned. I snatched the first car keys I saw in the car key box made a beeline for the torture room, as I called it. Surprisingly, no one was in here, and I didn't waste any time going through the exit. I squinted as the sun shone on me, making my eyes get wonky. It has been a minute since I've been outside. Putting my arm over my face to shield my eyes from the sun, I looked around to see where I was. I was right by the garage, and I held the key fob in the air and clicked the button to unlock the doors. There was a beep that filled the air, and I ran to the car that blinked. I hurried in the car, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears, I could barely hear myself think. I felt like I was going to throw up. I tossed my bag in the passenger's seat and started the car up. 

"Hey!" 

I gasped, looking up to see two men running from the torture room exit and heading my way. I threw the car in reverse and mashed the gas, reversing so hard, I jerked in my seat. I didn't even bother to buckle up. Safety for me was getting out of here. The men were still running after me, and once I was completely out of the driveway, I threw the car in drive, and I sped away. I finally buckled up when I reached the highway and put in the address for the safe house in the GPS. My heart was still pounding, and I kept looking in every mirror to make sure that no one was following me. 

I did it. Realization dawned on me. I really fucking did it. I escaped, and I was in one piece. Tears welled up in my ears, and I let them fall. I endured almost a month of torture, I watched my mom get murdered in front of me, and I spent another month basically in cushy solitary confinement. I haven't seen anyone else in two months. The tears kept rolling down my face, and I let them the entire time I drove to the warehouse. It was dark by the time I reached the location, and I parked right by the car I used to be in almost every day, hunting down targets. I grabbed the bag and wiped my face, a frown settling on my face. After I rested for a few days, my goal was to get stronger and go after everyone at that place and kill them all. I didn't care if the team was on board or not. 

All of them will die by my hand.