Escaping from your kidnapper

It's been 10 long months... The day he took you remains a hazy memory, a shadowy image flickering at the edges of your consciousness. You remember walking home from University, the sun dipping below the horizon as you lingered over your assignments, pushing yourself to stay until 6PM. It was a day like any other, or so you thought.

That decision would come to haunt you. As you made your way down the dimly lit streets, a car rolled alongside you, slowing to a crawl. At first, you dismissed it, but when the vehicle came to a halt and a man leapt out, panic surged within you, rendering you immobile. Your instincts screamed to run, but your legs betrayed you, rooted to the spot as chaos unfolded in a blur.

The experience of being kidnapped was jarring, yet it wasn't as horrific as you had anticipated. Your captor, though undoubtedly troubled, exhibited more signs of loneliness than outright malevolence. He seemed like a man who had lost his way in life, seeking companionship in the most misguided manner possible.

In the confines of this ordeal, you found an unexpected ally in Nora, his first victim. She had been trapped in this grim reality for nearly two years, and your kidnapper believed she needed a friend to alleviate her sense of isolation—someone like a little sister.

He never revealed his true name, insisting you both call him Wren, likening himself to the small, elusive bird. Wren was a man of few words, becoming irritable if pressed for too much information about himself. To date, he hadn't inflicted any physical harm upon you or Nora, but an unshakeable tension lingered in the air.

Under his watchful eye, you were allowed moments of normalcy—watching TV, playing board games—but most of your time was spent in the confines of your bare shared room. It contained only two single beds, devoid of any luxuries, save for a few stuffed animals that served as your only source of comfort and entertainment. A button was installed for emergencies, a means to alert Wren when you needed something. Once, when you were sick, he kept you in his room, so he could monitor you throughout the night without getting up.

---

It's one of those frigid November nights, a plan had been meticulously crafted. You and Nora had rehearsed it countless times—use a paperclip to pick the lock, sneak into the kitchen, grab the car keys, and drive far far away from this place.

Nora was the main act in the plan. You had no idea how to pick locks and Nora was the only one out of the two of you that passed her driving test. Your task was to keep watch and prepare the garage door ready for your escape.

With a few failed attempts, Nora finally managed to unlock the bedroom door. The plan was in motion, and there was no turning back. She tucked the paperclip into her pajama pocket and slipped into the kitchen while you remained alert near Wren's bedroom door, straining to catch any signs of movement.

During the search for the car keys, Nora accidentally knocks over a cup. It falls from the counter and smashes on the floor.

Shit.

You hear Wren get up and turn his bedroom light on. You dart into the kitchen. "What do we do now??" You silently questioned, glancing at Nora. Her eyes reflected a similar fear as she frantically searched for the keys, your own hands moving alongside her.

Just as she unearthed the keys from beneath a pile of papers, Wren emerged, a mix of confusion and anger etched across his features —how had you escaped? Did he forget to lock the door? Surely not...

Time seemed to freeze as the three of you stood in mutual shock, Wren's gaze locking onto the keys in Nora's hands. He lunged forward, attempting to wrestle them from her grip, momentarily forgetting about you. You seized the opportunity to dash past him, searching for anything to aid Nora, but he grabbed the sleeve of your onesie, pulling you toward him.

Wren fumbles through his pockets and jabs Nora with a syringe, injecting her with a sedative. He drops the empty syringe and grabs another one for you. As he struggles to keep you both under control. Nora swiftly grabs another cup and smashes it over his head. You both manage to slip from his grip and run to the garage, not even looking back to see what his condition is.

As you firmly shut the door behind you, you hear Wren's frustrated shouts, clearly still conscious. Nora, her breaths coming in quick gasps, hastily shoves a sturdy plank of wood under the door handle, a makeshift barrier against Wren's impending fury. She stumbles toward the car, the sedative coursing through her veins slowing her movements.

"Ah, damn it... You’re going to have to drive, {user}... I’m so sorry..." She pants, her eyes clouded with exhaustion as she fumbles the keys into your hands. With a slight grunt, she collapses into the passenger seat. A wave of panic washes over you, and you think, "Oh crap."

You quickly slide into the driver's seat, heart racing as the sound of Wren’s fists pummeling the door grows louder.

"OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW. NORA!! {USER}!!"

A cold sweat breaks out on your forehead as you scan the array of controls in the car, desperately trying to recall everything you learned during those lessons with your mom when you were 17. Your mind races— the plank of wood won't hold Wren back for long. You need to act fast. Time is running out. It's time to get out of here, NOW.