3. The Escape
1320 Words
I watch the droplet of blood fall in slow motion. The wild flickering of the flames around me slows to a gentle shimmer. The heat seems pleasant—like the sun on my back on a warm summer’s day. My ragged breathing evens out, no longer heavy or angry. Now, I’m calm, as if this had been the plan all along.
My inner beast sits on her hind legs and c***s her head in curiosity.
Splash.
The droplet hits the floor. Time snaps back into motion.
Multiple things happen at once. The master regains the ability to move and finally realizes the room is on fire. The wooden arch supporting the silk drapes collapses, sending glowing embers in every direction.
But I notice none of it.
Not the noise.
Not the heat.
Not the master’s shouts.
The only thing I feel is the excruciating pain tearing through my body.
I’ve never felt anything like this. Nothing the master has ever done compares. Every nerve screams. I’m red-hot and ice-cold at once, like I’ll combust and freeze simultaneously. My skin feels too tight, as if it’s about to tear open like an overinflated balloon. My teeth ache, shifting inside my gums like they’re being replaced with razors.
I collapse, unable and unwilling to endure the pain.
Inside my mind, my wolf appears. She approaches gently and nudges my curled-up form with her cool, wet nose. Then, she lets out a powerful howl.
This time, the sound isn’t only in my head.
Suddenly, the pain stops.
I stand and shake out my fur.
No—
That’s not right.
I don’t have fur.
At least, not when I’m awake.
Looking down, I see the tattered remains of the bloody wedding dress beneath my paws.
“NO!”
The master’s panicked shout snaps my head up. Our eyes lock. Fear and rage twist across his face. His emotions are so strong I can almost smell them.
The primal urge to lunge at him sends dizzying waves through me, but the more rational—more human—part of my mind sees the fire spreading and the sharp scissors still clutched in his hand.
If I’m going to escape, I have to move now.
Using my new, powerful hind legs, I leap at the master’s arm—the one still gripping my leash—and bite down hard.
The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. I want to gag, but I clench tighter until I hear the sharp, unmistakable snap of bone.
“AAAGGGHHH!”
His scream pierces my ears. He crumples, dropping the leash, cradling his useless arm.
Before he can recover, I bolt. The benches blur past. I hit the door at full speed and hear his voice behind me—
loud, deranged, desperate.
“No! You are mine. You will not escape me!”
I risk a glance back. He’s still on his feet—and in his good hand is the black remote.
The shock collar is still fastened tightly around my neck.
Panic claws through me. The pain I’m about to feel will be nothing compared to the devastation of failing again.
But my wolf refuses. She sees how close we are and urges me forward.
I push harder, running faster. I bound through the open door and into a smoke-free corridor—just as the pain hits.
It’s not as bad this time.
Still sharp. Still burning. But not crippling.
My thick fur must be absorbing some of the shock. My muscles twitch, but I can move.
Hope blooms—but I shove it down. Focus. Focus on escaping.
The tap, tap, tap of my claws against the hardwood floor is almost comforting. I sprint past room after room, away from my prison and the inferno I started.
It’s been years since I’ve been in this part of the house, but my wolf remembers the way.
Late evening sunlight blinds me as I burst into the front foyer. My pace slows just enough to scan for an exit.
BANG.
A gunshot echoes. I skid to a halt, eyes scanning wildly.
Then—I see her.
An eight-foot statue of a woman, wings spread wide, carved from pure white marble. Her face is serene, motherly.
My guardian angel.
I leap behind her just as the master rounds the corner.
“You can’t hide from me, pet. This is my house. You are mine.”
His voice bounces off the high windows like the final words of a death sentence.
The clicking of his hard-soled shoes stops nearby. I’m trapped, and we both know it.
I peer around the statue just in time to see him raise the gun—
BANG.
I duck back. My heart pounds, a war drum thudding in my chest.
Twenty feet. That’s all. He stands twenty feet away, gun trembling in his off hand. His injured arm hangs limp.
I need a plan—fast.
The fading sunlight catches my eye.
Just this morning I dreamed of seeing the sun. Now, I want more than a glimpse.
Beyond the windows is freedom.
I just have to break the glass.
In my human form, maybe I could. But as a wolf? Unlikely.
I could try to shift back—but I don’t know how. And I don’t have time to learn.
“Come out, pet, and I promise not to shoot you.”
Closer now.
This is it. I charge the window.
In the reflection, I see him raise the gun—so I pivot.
BANG.
The bullet misses. I dive back behind the statue.
The glass—
Cracked.
A massive spiderweb of fractures spreads across the panel. At its center, a hole the size of a bullet.
This is my last chance.
Deep breath.
Three.
Two.
One.
I run—harder, faster—straight at the glass.
I close my eyes—
—and crash through.
Shards explode in every direction.
A bullet grazes my shoulder. I hit the ground hard, the air punched from my lungs.
Warm blood soaks my fur.
The pain is sharp, deep, but I force my legs to keep moving.
The cool air rushes over me.
The grass beneath my paws smells like home.
I keep running.
The perimeter fence looms ahead—too high to jump.
But then—I see it. A tree stump.
I angle toward it. Leap. Push.
I fly over the fence and land hard, tumbling through the underbrush.
I did it.
I got out.
My wolf yips with joy—we can hardly believe it.
I’m not safe, not yet. But I’m free.
I need to get far away. Shift back. Rip out the tracker. Figure out what’s next.
I know no one. I have no money. No place to go.
But none of that matters.
A life of uncertainty is better than no life at all.
I race into the forest, relishing every new sensation.
The wind in my fur.
The burn in my limbs.
My heart—light and full.
By the time I slow to a gallop, the sun has fully set.
I dodge trees and leap over exposed roots—and a strange feeling settles in.
Familiarity.
This place… it’s just like my dream.
It can’t be a coincidence.
I scan for the path. It’s dark now—but there—
The fallen oak, scorched by lightning.
I sprint. My energy returns.
I know this trail like the back of my hand.
Leaping over the old fox den, I can’t contain my excitement.
Ten more steps.
Five.
Three.
I don’t know what I’ll find, but it has to be better than where I came from.
One.
SNAP.
Pain explodes through my front leg.
I’m yanked violently backward.
Blood trickles from the metal jaws clamped around me, pooling at my paws.
A howl rips from my throat—raw, pained, and full of despair.
I was so close.
So nearly free.
- Writer
