Chapter Three

Attempt at freedom

Zaya trembled under the weight of Kyle's voice.

"I—ha–have-eaten." Zaya responded. Stuttering.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Who made it? What did you eat? Are you deaf?"

Zaya's panic grew.

"I—I did"

“You did what? Where was Sussan when you made your food?” Kyle's voice increased.

"Wasn't Sussan assigned to fix dinners specifically?"

The questions kept adding.

A lot of things went through Zaya's head. Since when did it matter if she decided to take up all of Sussan’s duties? Was there something in particular she did wrong while making her dinner?

"I obtained permission from Sussan." Zaya murmured, barely audible.

Kyle's eyes furrowed.

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

To Sussan’s room.

Zaya sat frozen.

Then quietly, she decided to creep behind. But careful enough to keep a safe distance.

Zaya crouched near an edge of a wall close by. Heart racing as Kyle burst into Susan's room.

Shock!

The sight of Kyle holding Sussan by the neck, slamming her into the wardrobe.

Something that never happened.

It was difficult hearing anything.

At the time Kyle let go of Sussan, she was already coughing.

Then he began to talk, what looked like scolding.

Sussan seemed to be apologizing.

Suddenly, Kyle’s countenance changed. The fury in his face shifted to something else—something colder. Sussan was still talking. It looked like Kyle heard a life threatening information.

His eyes darted, and narrowed calculatedly.

Then he walked out swiftly, Slamming Sussan’s door behind him.

Zaya ducked back into the hallway shadows, then tiptoed back to her room.

That night was a long one for Zaya. She spent a large part of it trying to process—"don't eat what you didn't cook “... "Have you eaten?"...

Something wasn't right.

Sleep took over without a notice. The drift was accompanied by darkness, not peace.

Then—

Zaya's eyes snapped open by the tiny ray of sunlight piercing through the corner of the room.

An Unfamiliar sterile scent.

Cold padded floor.

No windows.

She didn't wake up at where she had slept.

A dark room.

There was a strong feeling that she was still within the estate.

But some place she hadn't been before.

The walls seemed to have soundproof installed.

Screaming was not an option.

The entire day, she sat there. Heart racing. No one came by. Not even insects were close by.

Then, towards the end of the day, the door creaked, then opened.

It was Kyle.

Zaya flinched.

He came in with a smirk that shone through the dark room. “Sleeping beauty." He squatted in front of her, with his elbow resting on his knees.

"So tell me, what dreams did you have today? Did you hear voices? Was it Kyle you heard this time? Or still Damien?" He said with a sarcastic beam on his face.

Zaya's heart pounded in horror.

"What are you talking about?”

He leaned closer.

"Now I need you to talk. Everything you know. Everything you remember. Tell me"

Zaya's frail eyes shuttered.

"I don't know anything. Please. Let me out of here." Zaya said warily.

Kyle's jaw ticked.

He stood up, his dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"Still playing dumb? It's just a matter of time. You'll talk."

Two days passed.

Zaya remained locked.

Fed once a day—at nights even. That's the only time Kyle visited. When everyone had assumingly slept.

The silence.

Loneliness.

Hunger.

It all wore her out. But she didn't cry.

Not anymore.

Another day passed.

Kyle showed up. But during the day. He dropped a plate of food. Barely enough for a toddler.

Zaya noticed something— the padlock.

The daylight exposed it while Kyle was locking it.

Zaya's attention was captured.

It wasn't complex, but old. Secured with a brass mechanism.

The necklace pendant she wore had a design of an iron key pattern.

Decorative.

Maybe, now functional.

Zaya reached for the design and pulled it out immediately Kyle left.

She stepped forward to assess the lock.

Her hand trembled with the hope of freedom.

But she decided to keep the trial till early night fall when she was assuming Kyle won't show up.

With the help of the sunlight ray in the room, Zaya could keep tap of night fall.

Now.

The time

She held out the key design.

She began. It took several attempts and failures.

Then— click!

The padlock screwed open.

Her heart pounded in rapid beats of joy and fear.

She stepped into the hallway.

What if someone is watching? What if Kyle was around the corner, waiting?

Regardless.

She proceeded.

She trailed quietly through the dim hallway.

Unfamiliar and cold.

Then she heard it.

Noises from a distance.

Laughter. Music. Clinking of glasses.

She moved by the leading of the sounds until it grew louder, then close.

A gala.

She remembered. Sussan had mentioned a forth coming charity gala.

Her fear was mixed with relief.

Relief that everyone would be too busy to notice her. She could vanish in the crowd.

Fear of being caught regardless.

The only door leading out was through the grand hall.

She couldn't.

Too dangerous.

But she saw a window.

Not sure where it led. It looked like a better option. Better than daring the hall, so she proceeded to climb.

With her hands first, then she pushed her whole body up on the wall.

Carefully, slowly.

But unfortunately, she missed her grip.

She fell over with a heavy thud.

In a garden.

There!

Pains.

But before she could get herself, a shadow loomed.

She gasped.

Damien.

He saw her. Face cold. Mouth tight.

He was around the corner answering a phone call.

He grabbed her with a hard grip by the arm.

"Where do you think you're going? Running? You must think you're something."

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

Her chest tightened.

"Please–don't — please" she began to plead.

He paid no attention.

Call dialed.

He took the phone to his ears.

“Where are you Kay?

We have a problem. Hurry to the lily garden. Your prisoner attempted escape “