She was dressed in a drab of a dress. And she looked so frail he could put a finger on her forehead and push and she would fall backward right away. Her eyes were brown, or so he thought, and they were both cloaked with fear and determination.

Her lips were pursed in such a way that they gave her a look of someone who was fighting back tears.

Her long, black hair was a mess and some stray strands were on her forehead and cheeks.

She was the worse-looking girl Devin had encountered in his entire life, but she was also the most admiring one. He couldn't imagine the things she had gone through in Carl's hands. He couldn't imagine anyone surviving them, but somehow, this girl who almost had it all ten years ago was able to do just that. She was a survivor and she had more fighting spirit left to make sure that she outlived this night.

"Hi," he greeted under his breath. "I am Devin, by the way, nice to finally meet you up close. By the way, are you ready to run away with me?"

Her panicky pale face stared at him and he saw a slight twitch on her lips. "Hi, Devin. Nice to know you know some social etiquette but it is not the time for that now. And yes, I am ready to run away with you."

With that, she walked to a wall beside her bed and started working on the metal mounted on it. As he stepped inside the room, he realized that she already figured out how to escape from her chains.

"Do you need some help?" he asked, taking in the smell of the room. Cigarette and draft engulfed his senses. And she had lived here for more than ten years?

"No. Just take care of Sam. She's in the next room and her chains might be new. It might take us some time."

He nodded and backed off the room, his eyes didn't want to leave her frail one hunched before the wall.

"Samantha? Are you there? You have to listen to me very closely," he heard her say before he walked out to go to the next room.

The door was locked. He knocked. "Samantha?" he called. He didn't want to frighten the child.

As he waited for an answer, his mind was racing.

Carl could be driving his way back right now and they needed to be fast. How many minutes had it been anyway?

And they still had to find the key to the car. And he was not sure, despite Hope's words, that the car would start.

"Samantha?" he called once more. "I am a friend. I am here to help."

When he did not hear a sound, he stepped back from the door and kicked it. It didn't budge. He heard the child yelp in alarm from inside the room.

"Stay away from the door, Samantha," he warned.

He tried another kick and it sent the old wooden door swinging against the adjacent wall.

A red-haired girl was hunched at one corner, her knees against her chest, her eyes wide with fear. Her clothes were dirty and she had no shoes on. Just like Hope.

He approached her slowly, his steps careful. "Samantha, I am Devin. I am friends with Hope and I am here to help. Do you believe me?"

It was important that the child trusted him.

Still shaking with fear, the child nodded slowly. "Hope said you're going to take us away from here."

Devin answered with a nod. "Yes. But we have to be fast." He slowly placed his bag down on the dirty floor. The room didn't smell like Hope's. It smelled of chlorine, as if the room had just been thoroughly cleaned. Was this the dead girl's room?

He opened his bag and took out a bold metal cutter. He figured he would need it and it was the time to use it. He looked at Samantha's right leg. Hope was right. Her chain was new. "I am going to get you out of that chain. Can I approach you?"

The child nodded at him and he quickly worked with the metal cutter. It took more than a minute but it finally gave in after the third try.

"Can you stand up?" he asked Samantha.

The child slowly did and he led her to the door and back to Hope's room.

Hope had already freed herself from the wall, but she still held the chains attached to the cuff around her ankle.

"Do you need help with that?" Devin asked her.

She shook her head. "We don't have time for that. Maybe later." Her eyes travelled to Samantha beside him. "Hi, Samantha."

Samantha was already crying, gripping Devin's hand tightly. Devin hung his bag over his shoulder and looked at Hope. "Where's the car? Can you find the keys?"

"Downstairs. Let's go."

She looked like she was going to fall anytime soon, but her steps were purposeful as she led him and Samantha back downstairs in bare feet.

There were more than a dozen boxes at the very center of the living room.

The kitchen was almost bare as the living room.

Carl was really ready to move away.

"That's the door to the garage," she said, pointing at the door he had not noticed when he came for a visit a few days ago. "I will look for the keys. Samantha, go with him."

Devin led Samantha to the door while Hope entered Carl's bedroom.

"Stay here," he told Samantha before he turned the knob.

The girl did not let go of his hand until he promised, "I will be back right away. I just need to make sure that the place is safe."

Samantha let go of his hand after a few seconds of struggle and leaned against the wall beside the doorframe.

Devin swung the door wider.

The clock was ticking on them and they had to be fast.

He flicked the switch beside the door.

The car was sitting right at the center, perfectly polished. He breathed a sigh of relief. It only meant one thing: Carl had been taking good care of the black sedan.

He scanned the room for anything suspicious.

And that was when he saw it.

When he realized what it was, his heart began to hammer.

*****

Hope opened the lights.

Carl's bedroom was small and smelled of his cigarettes. His bed was not big, but it was made perfectly as if Carl had a woman living in the house with him.

Some of his personal belongings were still beside his bed, but boxes were already neatly piled beside the door. The wall bore evidence of photo frames that had once hung on them. Those frames were probably inside the boxes now.

But the keys had to be here somewhere. Carl would never leave without taking the car. It was one of the rare possessions had took pride in.

She saw the tools he used during his nightly visits in a basket beside his bed and a shiver ran through her spine. He was packing them tonight, she thought.

But where would he hide the keys?

She quickly went to an almost empty desk facing the window and opened the drawers. She couldn't didn't try to be neat. She threw away papers, boxes, and other things in search for the keys. She lifted the box lying beside the desk and opened it. If Carl had already packed the important things from his desk, she'd find them there.

The first thing she saw inside the box was a Swiss knife and she immediately took it.

As she continued to scan the contents of the box, she heard a sound outside the room. And then she heard the footsteps. She did not dare ask aloud if it was Devin.

Her heard raced against her chest when she heard the footsteps behind her. Before anything happened, she jumped to the left, ready to fight Carl.

"Hey, it's me," Devin's voice said softly, but his eyes were in panic.

"Why are you here?" she demanded. "Where's Samantha? I still need to look for the keys and--"

"I already have them," he said, holding out a bunch of keys in front of her.

"Where did you--"

"Things had gotten more complicated than we thought," he said, his eyes more serious and fearful.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You better see for yourself. And we have to get the hell out of here as fast as we can, as far as we could possibly go."

A lot of things ran through her mind all of a sudden. What if Devin was just playing her? What if Carl was waiting for her outside that door? But what if he was telling the truth?

Curious and afraid for more complications, Hope hesitantly followed Devin out of Carl's room and into the garage after she grabbed the Swiss knife she found in Carl's box. She would stab Devin to death if he did one wrong move.

Samantha was leaning against the wall beside the garage door, her eyes fearful and confused and her lips were quivering in silent tears.

Hope let Devin enter the garage first.

"I just found it there," Devin's voice said. He was not looking at the car that Hope had never forgotten in ten years. It was the very same car that the crew of the movie she had been working on had for that last, memorable shooting. Hope tore her gaze away from the car and followed Devin's gaze.

And then her eyes widened.

"I don't think I like this unexpected turn of events." She barely heard Devin's words as she looked up, her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat.

Hope's legs almost went limp when she saw Carl's big form hanging in the air, dangling from a rope looped around his neck and attached to one of the beams above the garage. His head was dropped to one side against his shoulder. His face was almost blue, his eyes open and dead.

Carl was far from alive.