The raised eyebrows indicating the shock etched onto my captors faces, made me feel pleased with my strategy. 

        Raising my chin, and not waiting for them to regain their unguarded senses, I tightened my grip on the plastic handle of the exact-o knife I was using as a weapon. Soon, I had plunged the sharp tip into the flesh covering the willowy man's wrist. I watched, aghast, as the blood poured out, a trail of red. All I wanted to do was turn my gaze away from this revolting sight, although, was betrayed by my eyes which stayed glued to the scene I had created. The scene I had created. How could I suddenly turn so cruel? Was I beginning to catch the same traits as these men? 

        I was unable to believe I could go through with a plan so violent. I realized that even though both the men and I were using violence as a weapon, our purposes were what separated us. These men could hardly be referred to as gentlemen as their target was to gain wealth by torturing an innocent being. While, my purpose was to free myself of their cruel intentions. I reminded myself with a sense of righteousness that I was only defending myself from becoming the target of whatever horrible fate they had planned for me.

        The man groaned in pain, as I wrenched the knife free from the holds of his thick skin, leaving a dark red cut, which was sure to leave an unpalatable scar. I could see as the man's jaw worked in anger, his unharmed fist clenching. He glowered at me with such intensity, that if looks could kill, I would have long ago been executed. Not sparing his wound a second glance, the man strode towards me, slowly, almost mockingly. 

        I held the knife in front of me in an attempt to look threatening while defending myself all the same. I watched as the man raised his hand as if to strike his palm against my cheek. Although, having guessed his move before he applied it, I ducked under the blow, leaving the man astonished. With each passing second, I came to realization of the fact that I possessed more strategic skills than I ever would have given myself credit for. Perhaps all the trials I had been coerced to follow had finally encrusted my heart in a thick layer of ice, making me immune to any gentleness. A part of me was content and satisfied at the fact that I had finally decided to fight my helplessness away, while another portion of my heart remained downcast and felt as if this was not the right decision. 

        What could I do, anyways? I was tired of being used as some toy to fiddle around with. Enough is enough. I stood still, the men attempting to make no sudden moves, while my breath got deeper and deeper as I tried to press the fury down, which threatened to rise almost too suddenly. What difference does all this make? Wouldn't it be more efficient if I accepted my fate here? I mean it's not as if Aunt Morrison's house or neighborhood holds any chests of gold for me to return to.

        I dismissed the thought with a quick shake of the head. I wouldn't let these heartless monsters snatch away any freedom I still had. Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting on my scalp. With a barely smothered yelp, I swiveled around, the pain growing even deeper as I did so. I came face to face with the other man who was fit to be a wrestler. His fingers were grasping a lock of my hair, tugging at the ends harshly. His face was twisted in a furious scowl. I brought my fingers up to where his hands were and attempted to scratch at them, but no matter how hard I tried, he seemed unaffected.

        Left with no other choice, I raised my hand which clasped the knife, and aimed for his hand. Although, he had already seen the attack coming, and quickly removed his hand from the tangles my hair had become. Well, at least I managed to free myself from his inhumane grip, I thought, relieved that I wasn't forced to use brutality once again to gain my objective.

        Now, I finally realized what danger I had been surrounded by. All three men had their eyes on me, as if they were predators circling the prey for a desired meal. Shuddering at the thought, I tried to find another helpful object in my peripheral vision. Knowing that the room was very well empty except for a compact wooden table in a dusty corner, I directed my gaze towards that single piece of furniture. I got myself ready to sprint towards the wooden structure, all the while trying to keep my intentions hidden.    

        Suddenly, a loud banging noise sounded from above the staircase, attracting all attention towards the source. Too focused to worry about the sudden burst of noise, I took the distraction as an advantage and made a beeline for the table. In a few strides, I reached the corner which looked as if it hadn't been washed in sunlight for quite a while, the cobwebs zigzagging above the table in thick strands. 

        Bending over, I tightly gripped two edges of the table and inhaled a deep breath, preparing to lift the weight. Not wasting any more time, I raised the table from the ground, which surprisingly seemed as if it was light as a feather. Relieved that the weight was manageable, I raised the table even higher, and charged towards the closest man. The progress was made tougher because of the long skirts sweeping the cracked-tiled ground. Fortunately, my feet didn't wander off course and I stayed upright. I conjured all the strength I had. Using every ounce in my body and clenching my teeth, I steered the table to come in contact with the mans's head. I had hit the man who had not long ago entwined his calloused fingers around strands of my hair. The man was groaning with discomfort and almost instantly fell to the floor, limp with unconsciousness. 

        I watched as the other man who possessed a skeletal torso, raced towards me, anger etched onto his face. Clearly, the man who had been my first victim, had some close relation to this man. I composed myself for another swing with the table. The man ran right towards where my blow was aimed towards. Some overrated phrases are correct, after all: we shouldn't make decisions when fury is clawing at us. Anger makes us oblivious to even the most obvious of things, which is evident when taken a look at this man.  

        I cringed as the man screamed, almost deceiving manliness. At this point, my heart raced with anticipation while my limbs felt as if they were on fire; the fire inside me instead of on the outside in the form of adrenaline. I directed my gaze towards my only conscious company remaining. It was the leader, who actually cowered back as our eyes met. What a coward.

        I took a daunting step towards him, and when he made no move to attack, I rested the table on the ground, and using the ropes that the captors had brought along, I tied him to a pillar supporting the roof. Surprisingly, he made no attempts to escape and I was able to complete this task in silence. 

        Just as I finished fastening the last knot, a noise sounded yet again. This time, I was well aware of the sudden sound. My ears perked up, and looking at the former-leader, asked him, "What was that?"

        "N-Nothing," he stuttered. "It was probably a mouse or abandoned cat." He looked more confident than his last statement, although I could tell that he was lying by the way his gaze flickered almost nervously to the staircase from time to time.

        "Hmm, yeah, right," I said, shaking my head. "You know, you don't have anything else to lose. You've been tied up for goodness sake. I think it would do you no harm to be honest".

        When his mouth remained in a thin line, I sighed and knocked him unconscious with the table. Reluctantly walking over to the staircase, I gazed upwards, trying to catch a glimpse of the upper floor, though with no success. I guess, I would have to investigate myself. As I trotted up the stairs with my dress trailing on the tiles behind me, the banging grew more audible. For a moment, I thought I heard a muffled scream. My eyes widened and I tried to decipher if I had imagined this. 

        My heartbeat grew more frantic and I clasped the folds of my dress tightly, the brush of fabric doing little if anything to comfort me. The lack of light wasn't helping my frightened expression either. I feared what was awaiting me just above these stairs, although the determination overcame the jittery nerves. 

        This place was full of surprises; so many that they could hardly be appreciated.     

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Author's Note:    

Hello! Here is chapter 15! April is a great fighter, isn't she? I would love to hit those kidnappers with a table. What about you? :D

Oh, and what's making the sounds? Maybe, we will see when April reaches the top of the stairs...

Although, for now, good bye! Have a fantastic day. :)

- Anika