Chapter Text
The room was dark. Silent, as if there was something heavy weighting on it; the silence before a devastating storm, when the air would fill one's lungs yet still make them feel like they were drowning. Wednesday took a deep breath, trying to assess her surroundings in spite of the darkness that was swallowing her.
Mold.
The air was musty. As if the room had been locked down for a long long time before she had been thrown inside.
She sketched a tentative move with her hand, only for the rope tightly wrapped around her wrists to bite into her skin. She hummed in content at the sting.
Normally, she would have liked the situation she found herself in.
Desolated. Dangerous. Suffocating.
However…
Footsteps cut down the monumental silence. Then a blinding light flashed in her eyes.
“Trying to escape, aren’t you, little witch?”
The irritating voice of a man she didn't recognise asked in an attempt to mock her situation.
…however, she was not alone.
Wednesday narrowed her eyes at him. Partly because of the light blinding her–
Partly to signal that the man had signed his death certificate for calling her “a little witch”.
Her glare only made the man laugh, much to her chagrin. Wednesday was sure that he would not be laughing anymore when he would be choking on his own blood.
“We’ve been warned about you!” The man said in a sing-sang voice. As if a warning could prevent the inevitable once she escaped her restraints.
“Ohoh, we’ve been warned about you and your knack for not staying put, alright!”
Wednesday watched the man’s reach for her in slow motion. Skin recoiling at just the thought of being touched by this mindless specimen and while she would usually enjoy being uncomfortable, this was not the time, nor the place. One fat finger was a millimeter away from the left strand of her hair–
When silver flashed right in front of her eyes.
And then bright red followed in warm gushes.
Screaming, the man fell straight on his bottom. He yanked his hand to his chest and away from her face, a myriad droplets of his fresh blood adorning her pale complexion like freckles.
Beneath his mask, his features must had been contorted in pain. Pain and shock, which quickly turned into disgust when Wednesday's pink tongue darted out and licked off the few drops hanging off the corner of her mouth.
Ignoring the man in front of her, her head snapped to her left. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the darkness again and soon enough Wednesday could distinguish the silhouette of a human in the dark.
As if compelled, the freshly wounded man followed her gaze with his flashlight. And indeed, her eyes were not mistaken for a few meters from them stood a man.
Tall, slender. And wearing a mask, just like the more corpulent one standing on his ass in front of her.
The void of her irises caught a flash of vibrant green suddenly illuminated by the white light of the flashlight where the eyes of the stranger should have been. Eerily familiar green that made her stomach twist and coil beneath her skin. A gut feeling she dismissed as her brain playing tricks on her due to the uncertainty surrounding her.
Next to her, the wounded man groaned in annoyance.
“Of course the boss lady’s dog will bare his teeth…!!!” He mumbled as he suckled on his wounded finger.
Wednesday’s ears perked up. Her sharp gaze darting right back at the new stranger, yet he was gone before she could get a better look.
In and out of the darkness of the room. Just like a ghost.
And with her face covered in blood, her eyes scrutinized the darkness with newly sparked curiousity.
As the fat man grumbled next to her, now not daring to even mistakenly jerk a finger towards her frame, Wednesday tried to piece together the pieces of the puzzle she had managed to gather so far:
- She had been kidnapped.
- The thugs that yanked her so unceremoniously out of her hospital bed were working for a so called “boss lady”
And
3. This so called boss lady had a “dog” who for reasons unknown to her had no problem attacking his own mates.
If she wouldn’t have been gagged, Wednesday would have groaned just like the fat kidnapper next to her. Albeit for different reasons entirely.
This was not nearly enough for her to assess her situation clearly, let alone escape her confinement.
She had to find out more. More pieces of this new puzzle that presented itself to her with such nonexistent poise. And for that, Wednesday waited. Patiently. Just like the living doll she could have become in the summer vacation if Thing wouldn’t have bursted out of the serial killer’s doll.
And when the kidnapper raised his heavy body off the ground, Wednesday kicked his ankle with the intention to break bone.
Rendering the fat man unconscious had been a piece of cake. After the bone cracked and his feeble ankle gave in, Wednesday quickly wrapped the rope she had been bound with around his neck and pulled it down. The man scratched at his own skin, stumpy fingers desperate to grab a hold onto the rope and pull it away as his consciousness started to slip away.
Soon, he stopped moving, plump arms falling limp around his body. With no consciousness to keep his weight upwards, the kidnapper fell on the floor with a muffled thud.
And Wednesday would have been pleased with her escape…
…if it weren’t for the blade that pressed its tip against the back of her neck right when the body hit the floor.
She froze. The chill of the metal against her skin sending goosebumps over her arms. The blade biting dangerously into her flesh, but not drawing blood. At least not yet.
And the gut feeling she dismissed as her imagination? Turned into a genuine concern when the one holding the blade finally spoke up.
“You really are a cockroach, aren’t you?”