Ethereal Shade

Chapter I – Escape Kathryn A powerful force jolted my body painfully awake, slamming me against a hard surface and pulling me out of unconsciousness. Out of habit, I bit my lip to stifle any cries of pain trying to make their way out of my mouth, feeling the throbbing ache in my head and my back and the coldness seeping into my bones. Slowly, I opened my eyes and squinted through the semi-darkness. I was surrounded by metal. Another abrupt tremor sent me rolling and because my hands were bound, my body went crashing into another surface, the impact sending a wave of agony through my body. I tried to push down the panic bubbling out of my throat and kept my breath steady, centering myself. As my vision adjusted to the dim lighting, I could make out blurry shapes around me. Judging by the cold, hard metal vibrating beneath me, the steady hum of an engine and the faint scent of gasoline lingering in the confined space, it became unmistakably clear that I was inside some kind of moving vehicle. I was being transported somewhere. And at that moment, all the events leading up to this point came flooding back to me, adding context to the dire situation I found myself in. I couldn't say I was surprised; it had become a habit in the last ten years to expect situations such as this one. The sharp ache and chilling cold of my body brought tormenting memories back. Two weeks ago, I had been forced into a cramped cell by strangers, after being ripped from my bed in the middle of the night, wearing only my chemise and panties for pajamas. At first, they had been gentle and coaxing. But after a week, they became impatient and violent, subjecting me to torture, physical as well as mental. Beatings, humiliation, violation and degradation were my daily activities for a week at their hands. They said it was all destined to coerce me to react, to force me to go into survival mode and use my “abilities” as a protective mechanism. I never did. I wouldn’t. Then one day, my body still aching from the beatings it received the days before and freshly back to my cage from a humiliation session, a man entered the room and approached my cell, introducing himself as my uncle: “Seems like I was wrong. You are as useless as your mother and not worth my time.” he admonished. When I didn’t answer, he continued: “The fates must have had this prophecy all wrong. It’s a shame I have to get rid of a so lovely pet.” he had tsk, more to himself than to me. The man was in his fifties, tall and massive, but his age and lack of exercise were apparent in his potbelly. He bore no resemblance to my mother. Still seething with anger from the last session, I chose not to dignify him with a response. I've always believed that a cold, disdainful silence was the best way to deal with bullies like him. Besides, I had nothing to say to any of them—they weren't worthy of my words. Because I didn't respond, my so-called uncle had opened the cage and dragged me out. I had tried to fight him off, but he was strong and had punched me in the head. The next thing I knew, everything went black. Pushing the tormenting memories to the back of my mind, dread filled me as a chilling realization dawned on me, like icy water trickling down my spine, that the hours ahead were going to be teetering on the edge of death. Keeping my breath steady and my body as relaxed and as still as possible, I slowly took in my surroundings and observed the confined metal room I found myself in. It looked like the empty back of a van, I was lying alone on its floor, zip ties bound my wrists in front of me. I was glad I was still wearing my chemise. It was dirty and bloody, but it was still covering me where it counted. I could hear the driver up front. The way the van shook told me we were no longer on smooth roads, but instead navigating a rough dirt path. And that couldn't be good news for me. They indeed intended to get rid of me. The van was now slowing down and time was running out. Adrenaline invaded my body, clearing my sight and my thoughts and pushing the pain and cold into the back of my mind. I quickly and discreetly looked around for a way to untie myself, maybe a sharp surface to use against the ties. There! Along the wheel hump enclosing the outside tires, the edge looked sharp. I went along the vehicle’s momentum as it shook again to roll close to it and immediately started sawing with slow movements to not alert the driver that I was awake and trying to free myself. All the while keeping my breathing slow, the beating of my heart loud in my ears, almost blocking the sound of the van’s motor engine. The zip ties were tough but I kept sawing, feeling the plastic slowly give way under the repeated friction, all the while reopening the wounds at my wrists caused by the cuffs I wore when they suspended me to the ceiling during their torture sessions. The van came to a sudden stop, throwing me forward and preventing me from totally breaking the ties. Damn! I stayed completely still and after a few seconds, I heard the driver's door open and slam shut, followed by heavy footsteps crunching on what sounded like gravel. My heart jumped in my chest as I realized I had mere seconds to act. Quickly, I scanned the van's interior one last time, hoping for anything I could use as a weapon. Still nothing. I'd have to rely on the element of surprise and whatever combat skills I could muster in my current state. I approached one of the back doors and positioned myself against it, trying to place myself advantageously. The back doors swung open, flooding the dim interior with harsh sunlight. I squinted, momentarily blinded, as a silhouette loomed in the doorway. "Well, well. Looks like Sleeping Beauty's awake," a gruff voice says. I instantly recognized it as the voice of the vile piece of garbage who always ogled me as if I were meat waiting to be consumed. The same pig who assaulted and violated me. Rage surged through my veins, and with all my strength, I thrust both my still-attached hands toward his face, palms forward and fingers targeting his eyes. The man let out a pained howl, stumbling backward as my fingers connected with his eyes. I didn't waste a second, using the momentum to propel myself forward, my body slamming into his chest. We both tumbled onto the gravel, the impact knocking the wind out of me. But I couldn't afford to pause as I rolled off him. But he rapidly regained his senses and rolled with me, placing himself on top of me, my hands trapped between our bodies. I tried to move my body, pushing my legs and using the ground as leverage to buck him off. But he was too heavy, his weight crushing me as he straddled my hips. One of his meaty hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing tightly. While his other hand fetched a knife from one of his pants’ side pockets. I gasped for air, my vision starting to blur at the edges. Panic surged through me when he placed the knife at the base of my neck, and I stopped fighting, trying to calm myself. Panicking would not help; I needed a clear head. Sensing my abrupt stillness and mistaking it for submission, he eased the grip on my throat. A sneer twisted his lips into a cruel smirk. I greedily inhaled deep gulps of air, my lungs burning with the sudden influx of oxygen. It was then that I noticed the cold blade of his knife tracing a path down my chest. The sharp tip danced lightly over the fabric of my chemise, brushing against my n*****s with a chilling touch that sent a shiver of revulsion coursing through me. The man's eyes gleamed with a sickening lust as he traced the knife down my body. I knew I had to act fast or things would only get uglier. As the knife neared my hip, he shifted his knees lower around my hips to give himself better access to the center of my body. I didn’t hesitate, with the help of my elbows and feet, I pushed myself a little out from under him, and with a sudden burst of strength fueled by desperation, I jerked my knee upwards, aiming for his groin. The impact wasn't as forceful as I'd hoped with the lack of space, but it was enough to make him flinch, and I felt the knife push into the skin at my side from his sudden movement. The pain made me fold over and I used the momentum to jerk my head forward, smashing my forehead into his nose. There was a sickening crunch, and blood immediately began gushing down his face. He reeled back, cursing loudly, the knife extracting itself from my body with excruciating pain, causing the man’s grip on it to loosen. I seized the opportunity, twisting my body, and in one fluid motion, I grabbed the knife from his slackened grip and plunged it into his thigh. He howled in agony, rolling off me. But as I kept a firm grip on the knife, it dislodged itself from his thigh, making the man’s scream sing in my ears. I scrambled to my naked feet, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The man was writhing on the ground, clutching his bleeding leg, but I knew I couldn't waste time. I quickly used the knife to cut through the remaining fibers of the ties and took off, my bare feet hitting the rocky ground. Pain shot through my soles, but I ignored it, pushing it into the back of my mind with the rest. I looked around and realized I had no idea where I was or where I was going, but I knew I needed to get as far away from that van as possible. Scanning my surroundings, we were in a clearing surrounded by dense forest. No roads, no buildings, and no signs of civilization. Just trees and silence, the scenery only disturbed by the cold breeze and my labored breathing.