No Escape

Chapter 2: Tongue Tied

Chapter 2: Tongue Tied

Scarlett's P.O.V.

A raging ringing formed throughout my head, driving me over the edge. I forced my eyes to open, generating a stinging sensation, causing me to blink repeatedly. I squinted my eyes in confusion once I noticed my surroundings were completely different. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, trying to recollect my thoughts. Once everything had came back to me, I begun to hyperventilate. I had no idea where Alex was, or if he was even safe. I tried to move my hands, but I than realized they were restrained behind me. I was tied very tightly to a very old rusted metal chair, that must've been spray-painted black about twenty years ago. My feet were also tied to the legs of the chair with handmade jute rope. I thrashed my body as roughly as I could, but no matter how much of an effort I put into it, the rope wouldn't budge.

A very unpleasant cold chill was sent down my spine, as I begun to silently cry to myself. I was a hopeless sight, I had no way of escaping this. The rope also felt like it was slowly getting tighter as time passed, cutting my circulation off. I whimpered in pain, trying to form a plan. My main objective currently, was to find Alex, hopefully safe and not in any type of pain.

"She's awake!" I heard a voice shout in the faraway distance. The voice had a screeching annoying tone to it, most likely Gary.

"Shit...," I muttered underneath my breathe, and begun to try and move again.

Footsteps erupted in the seemingly endless darkness, my eyes continued to grow wider, as the footsteps neared. I inspected the entire room with slight glances, trying to find my kidnappers. Once they came into view, I now got the chance to capture a better look at the both of them.

The older mans right eye was completely swollen with the resemblance of a balloon almost. A pink scar started from the top of his eye and trailed a jagged line directly to the side of his nose. When he'd move the corners of his mouth upwards, his mutant nose would move along with his cheekbones. His shirt was covered in dirt, and torn at the bottoms, giving the impression that he might have had a criminal record, or a rough life. One side of his shirt was ripped diagonally, underneath of the remains of his clothing, was yet another scar. This one seemed to be much longer, and was slightly less more noticeable, and was evolving into his skin. As if he had just came out of combat from the war, and someone had grazed his skin with the tip of a knife. His faded blue jeans had small dark blood splatters, which was smeared across his mid-thigh. I cringed, as my eyes wandered over the swift army pocket knife poking out of his front left pocket.

Gary was built heavier than the old man, his stomach slightly hung over his pants and belt. He was also shorter than, and his wrinkled pale skin was beginning to flake, as long threads of hair was poking out from his arms and his chest. His brown hair was plastered to his forehead, in a very greasy rumple. His wide chocolate brown eyes were dis-portioned, his left eye slightly strayed to the right. He was wearing the exact same dark blue shirt from last time, the one that contained massive blood splatters and smears, and had dripped all the way to the front of his thigh on his bright blue jeans. His cheeks bones were quite high, as his jaw was a rounded shape due to extra weight that dangled from his chin. Whenever he would smile, his lips became as thin as lined paper.

Even when my hands where bundled behind me, I managed to work the muscles into firm fists. Perhaps if I continuously moved my fists outwards, the rope could possibly stretch? I face palmed internally, what cartoon world was I living in? I have absolutely no chance of escaping the position I am currently in, unless someone had slightly cut part of the rope, then I could easily unfasten myself. I still put all my effort into pulling my hands as far as part as possible, which was most likely only two inches each time I tried, but I couldn't give up.