Elle
She came to with a headache that rivaled the worst migraine.
“What happened?”
That’s what she tried to say. It came out more like “Wwhhggg hhhppphhh.”
Something was in her mouth, blocking her from talking. Elle commanded her eyes to open while she fought back a sudden upwelling of panic that threatened to overwhelm any source of rationale and reason. Gradually she was able to bring the world into focus, including her sense of just what the hell was impeding her from talking.
There was a rope holding a cloth in her mouth.
That wasn’t all though. When she tried to lift her hand to her mouth to remove it, nothing happened. The rough abrasive feeling against her wrists made another thing clear to her. Her hands were tied down to something that felt suspiciously cool. It had to be metal of some sort. The tough rope started to dig into her skin as she struggled. Elle once again told herself to remain calm. Finish assessing the situation and figure out just what the hell was going on.
Where am I?
With that thought she began to focus on the room around her. It wasn’t very large, nor was it very well lit either. It must still be nighttime then, because the windows on her left would have let in large amounts of natural light otherwise. And if that were the case, all the desks that were in front of her would have been full of children. She was in a schoolroom.
Her head wasn’t fastened to anything, so Elle looked around. There wasn’t much to see. The school colors of Cloud Lake Elementary—Go Blue & Gold!—surrounded her. So now she knew where she was. Oddly enough, it was the same school that Angela conducted her exercise classes in. That almost felt reassuring. Probably would have in fact, if she weren’t still tied to the teacher’s metal chair.
So far nobody had said anything, and her look around hadn’t revealed any figures either. She was alone. Alone and with no idea of what the hell was happening to her, or how she’d gotten to this point at all. No help, and nobody to taunt her. That would have almost been reassuring, because then at least she would know what was going on.
Okay, let’s relax. Take a deep breath.
She inhaled through her nostrils, and then out, unable to use her mouth. Even though it served as a reminder that she was bound and gagged, Elle found herself feeling slightly more relaxed. There was something in the air though, or on her skin that smelled faintly chemical in nature. She pondered about that for a moment before filing it away.
Now think, girl. What’s the last thing you remember?
Her brain flashed back to being at home. Waiting on the phone call from Braden, which never came. Asshole. So she’d gotten ready to come confront him in person. So I can tell him what an absolute jerk he is. After that, she’d left the house, started walking across the town. It was about a fifteen-minute walk. Elle had considered calling a cab. Even at the late hour some still operated, but she’d had a better idea, opting to use the time to really work herself up into a fervor, so that when she arrived Braden would know exactly how she felt without room for error.
The path to the embassy did lead past the school. But her memory of that time was blurry. The headache in her brain was fading now as she came to her senses. Obviously someone had come at her with a tranquilizer of sorts. They were popular for dealing with shifters, who tended to shrug off most bullet wounds from anything that wasn’t military grade. It wasn’t something she should know, but after all she’d been through in the past two years, Elle knew far more about shifters than she could have ever imagined.
Stop it. You’re getting distracted. Think, girl. Think.
Right. The priority at the moment was to get free, and do so without alerting anyone that she had escaped. It was time to take stock of her predicament. Elle moved her legs individually, then her arms, refreshing her brain with what was going on now that it was starting to awaken.
Both of her calves were tied to the chair. As were her forearms. Her hands and feet were actually free, though she had next to no movement. There was also some sort of cloth rag in her mouth, fixed in place by some rope. If it weren’t for the fact she didn’t know who had done all this to her, Elle might even find it a little kinky.
Not now, brain. You’re getting hysterical. Stay on track!
Okay, so she didn’t have use of her limbs. What did she have available to her? Her eyes, for starters. Her ears. Neither of which could get her out of the jam on their own. Still, they were all she had, and Elle was determined not to simply sit there and wait for rescue. That wasn’t who she was. Braden would come to her rescue if he could, but she wasn’t about to wait around for it. He would expect her to put in some of the effort.
And if he can’t make it, I need to do this on my own.
Closing her eyes, she started focusing, listening intently with her ears. The whispery flow of an air duct caught her attention. She hadn’t heard that before, but other than that, everything was silent. Nobody was around and talking within earshot. It seemed odd that she was unguarded, but Elle wasn’t about to complain.
Step one completed, she opened her eyes and started scanning the room, looking for inspiration. Her chair was angled slightly to the left, which meant unless she twisted her neck violently, she couldn’t see some of the right-hand side. Angrily she jerked her body around, pulling the chair with her as the metal legs slid noisily across the vinyl tile.
Elle froze. She’d totally forgotten to stay quiet.
Amateur move. Good job.
Considering this was her first experience being kidnapped, Elle wasn’t overly upset that her inner voice thought she was a rookie. She promised herself if she got out of this, that she would retire from kidnapping with a perfect 1-0 record of escaping. Undefeated, that’s how she would see it.
First you have to get out, though. What are you going to do, hop the chair out of here?
She snorted. Of course not. She’d walk. Once she’d freed her legs…and her arms. Elle tried to push down on the floor with her feet, but all that happened was the rope slid down her leg until her foot hit the floor. Then she was stuck once again.
Something about that statement bothered her. Elle leaned forward as best she could, looking at the legs of the chair.
Of course! She bounced on the chair slightly, until the teacher’s desk that she’d been seated at was behind her. Then, with a violent hurl of her body, Elle pushed herself backward, rocking up onto the two rear legs of the chair, resting her head on the desk itself. The pressure on her neck muscles to keep herself balanced was less than pleasant, but with the front two legs in the air, it was child’s play to extend her legs and slip the ropes off.
Coming back down into a seated position, Elle took a moment to rest, sucking air into her lungs while she wiggled her feet back and forth. Now that she could move, things were looking up. She was proud of herself for being so resourceful, but the ordeal wasn’t over. Her hands were still tied to the chair, and the arms curved around and were welded to the rest of the frame. There was no easy way out here. She had to cut them.
Then there was still the fact that she would need to escape the school itself. But for now, the more immediate problem that needed solving was freeing her forearms. That would require something sharp.
You’re in a schoolroom. There must be something you can use.
Elle scanned the room, looking at everything, but it wasn’t until her eyes reached the teacher’s desk that she saw what she needed. A grin spread across her face. The kidnappers, whoever they were, had clearly underestimated both her and the types of things stored in a classroom. She stood up, forced into a sort of hunchback waddle with the chair still attached to her body, and shuffled around to the front of the desk. There, standing upright in a cute little mug, were a bunch of pencils, pens, coloring sticks, and one pair of classic orange-handled school scissors.
She knocked over the mug with her head, suffering some scratches in the process, spilling the contents out onto the desk. Moving carefully since she would only have one chance at it, Elle pushed everything else aside with her nose, until there was nothing between the scissors and the edge of the desk. Then she used her nose to grab the scissors, pushing it flat to the desk between one of the fingerholes and pulling them across the desk until they sat on the edge.
Careful now. Very, very careful. If you drop these, you’re screwed.
Thanks, brain. Shut up.
Mercifully her inner dialogue cut off, allowing her to stay on task. Standing up once more, she shoved her hand up onto the desk, half hunched over it, and started working with the scissors. Eventually she got them fully opened, and gripped in her hand the way she wanted.
Elle sat down heavily with a sigh of relief. The blades were now spread as far apart as she could make them. Cautiously she curled her wrist in on itself, slipping one of the blades between her skin and the rope. Elle pushed it in as far as she could, then uncurled her wrist. Not much seemed to happen, but she knew it was working against the rope now.
Unfortunately, it was also working against her skin. Each “slice” with her wrist cut the skin on her arm, until the blood started to flow more freely. The rope started to grow softer, and the fibers began to part. It was working! Her blood was actually helping it. As long as she didn’t open any of the vulnerable arteries she’d be okay.
It took ten minutes of hard work, but the rope finally parted and started to uncoil, freeing her wrist!
Elle worked furiously, the second rope parting in a minute or two. After that she managed to slip her gag free. Part of her wanted to sit and relax for a minute, but instead she stood up and away from the chair, needing to be far from it. Her arm was still bleeding, the blood dripping down her fingers and onto the floor, slowly starting to form a pool.
Working quickly, she found some paper towels in the teacher’s desk. She wrapped those around her arm, and then with one hand and her teeth, re-tied one of the ropes to keep them in place.
“Okay.” Her voice, even whispered as it was, sounded shockingly loud to her ears.
And shifters have excellent hearing. Don’t forget that!
Now it was time to plot her escape. She looked around. The door was the obvious choice, but she was scared to test the hallway. There could easily be guards posted out there who would capture her again. No, she needed another way out. Her eyes were once again drawn to the air duct. It was small, but someone of her size could probably fit.
She set to work on it, her face composed, her emotions calm. The situation was fucked beyond belief, but she could do this if she didn’t lose control of herself. The key was to concentrate, and to not overreact.
In the silence as she worked at the screws with the scissors, the boots echoing in the hallway may as well have been gunshots.
Elle looked up, hating herself for gasping in terror like a stereotypical female stuck in this sort of situation. She was better than that! It didn’t change what she heard though.
Someone was coming.