A Deadly Winter Retreat

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THE LIGHTS FLICKERED, casting a minimal glow across the room. Shadows danced through the crack beneath the door. I brought my hand up, scratching the itch on my forehead. My jaw dropped- a sudden realization washed over me—I was no longer bound by the tight, wooly ropes.

I'm free!

My eyes widened, and I extended my hands before me.

"What?" I muttered in disbelief, twisting my wrists as I gazed at them in shock.

A surge of joy shot through my body, but it was short-lived as I took notice of the room they stuck me in. It was dark and cold, and there were no windows in sight.

This is what solitary confinement must feel like.

Regardless of my circumstances, I remained optimistic.

Suddenly, I overheard the distant voices of two men conversing, but their words were mere mutters. I inched closer to the door, tiptoeing not to make a sound. I pressed my ear up against it.

"I'm in the mood for a burger. I was thinking of heading to town. Wanna come?" a deep, raspy voice declared.

"Sure. Are the girls secured?" another man inquired.

"Yep."

Pressing my ear harder against the door, I listened intently as their footsteps echoed down the hall. The front door creaked open, and the sound of their footsteps gradually faded away.

What Gina is doing to me is incredibly absurd, even bizarre. It's Criminal!

I didn't and couldn't understand. It was unfathomable.

In high school, I remember her struggling significantly with her mental health. She was even institutionalized for months. However, once the doctors prescribed medication, she greatly improved.

Maybe she was relapsing?

But it had to be more than mental illness. There had to be another answer. Maybe she's an actual psychopath at heart. That's it - she's simply a sick individual who's been masking behind a bright and shiny personality that made you think she couldn't even hurt a fly. But it was all an act. A performance worthy of more than an Oscar. An act of malice.

She strategically plotted and planned something so evil, dark, and depraved.

Internally, my mind was screaming for me to escape. To find a way out. I refused to let this deranged woman kill me.

I reached for the doorknob. My heart pounded furiously, and sweat accumulated in my palm, making my grip slippery. I twisted it - slow and steady, knowing that with my luck, the chances of it opening would be zero.

The door eased open with a faint, delicate creak. I released a silent breath and cautiously navigated my way down the darkened hallway. The flickering flames from the fireplace cast an eerie orange glow, revealing the aging oak wood walls and the lightly creaking floors beneath me.

I tread cautiously down the unfamiliar corridor. Uncertainty gnawed at me, and sweat beads pooled on my forehead. My breathing was labored but hushed as my diaphragm expanded with each breath I took.

Still moving stealthily, like a soldier evading detection, I pressed my back against the wall, going further down the hall. My senses heightened as I journeyed closer to the front door. A chilling sight caused me to lose my breath, and a gasp escaped my lips.

Was I imagining it?

I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on a woman bound to a chair in the center of the dining room. Moving closer, I could now see her in full view.