The Red

Chapter 3

I bit hard onto my lip as my fist trembled around the doorknob, the room on the other side of the door breathing into me like a gust of wind.

It was the most beautiful kitchen I'd ever seen, like something from Architectural Digest. The dark hardwood floors gleamed handsomely as they crawled toward golden wood cabinets squared off in every corner. The white marble countertops were cluttered with opened snack bags and soda cans, but the stainless steel appliances were sparkling with luxury. I followed my gaze toward the daylight beaming from my right, and the vast kitchen expanded toward a dining area, fit with window walls that allowed the glass dining table to reflect the white of winter. The audience of trees outside were tall and wide, blanketed heavily with snow.

Who are these people?

As I stretched my toes inside my boots in preparation to free myself from the basement stairwell, I was quickly rendered frozen as two figures came strolling into my view. My heart thumped hard, and I pulled back on the doorknob, stepping down one step and keeping my body hidden, but my gaze firmly planted, filtering my eyes through a small crack in the door.

It was the big bearded guy, Mason, and the short grumpy one, Ashley. They stopped at the table where Mason hauled a briefcase, and Ashley plunked into the black velvet dining chair.

"Danny!" Mason boomed, and I closed my eyes, stepping down one more step and forcing away tears, "Get your ass up here! Your brother will be back soon and if you're not ready he'll chew both of us out!"

I counted to five before I peeked again, my legs threatening to buckle.

"Get your head up," Mason grumbled as he snapped his fingers at Ashley, who was practically horizontal over the table's edge. He sat back up.

"I'm getting real tired of these overnight runs," he conveyed with frustration.

"Yeah, well," Mason sighed, "There's bills to pay."

With that, Mason finished doing whatever he was doing inside of the briefcase, snapped it shut, and the two of them left the way they came, not once looking toward the basement door. I released the breath I was holding and practically toppled over, but I quickly regained composure and climbed back up, stepping out of my dungeon.

I followed the direction those two came from, sliding against the wall like a lost spider, and before long, I crept toward two separate hallways. Judging by where they'd been standing and how far left they veered when exiting, the hallway closest to the basement likely wasn't the one they traveled down, so that one was the lucky winner. At the end of the long corridor stood a wide staircase between two archways that appeared to be one big room. I saw more daylight spilling over the edges of the thresholds, so I eagerly skulked my way closer.

It was a library. The fluffy blue carpet stretched beneath two plush leather sofas facing a glass coffee table. On my right was a fireplace, and to my left was a Victorian-style black bookcase that dominated the entirety of the wall behind it, and in front of me were three beautiful windows, delicate baby blue curtains daintily dressing them. This house seemed surrounded by a vast wilderness, and an image of me mummified in ice like Jack from The Shining flashed in my brain for a moment, but I knew I had no other choice. That madness I descended into ruffled what feathers I had left.

No excuses.

I retrieved a fire iron and held it so tight my knuckles were as white as the snow I'd soon taste. There was a latch on the window, and I quickly flipped it and began to push.

But it wouldn't budge. It was frozen shut.

My body went ripe with frustration, and I suddenly abandoned all rationality, desperation coursing through my veins like a designer drug, and I leaned into that high and raised the fire iron far above my head.