Shadows In Durango

*****Sofia's POV*****

Every second drags on like a countdown to something inevitable...

I sit back down on the edge of the bed, pulling the cold metal bar out from under the pillow - my fingers wrapping around it and gripping it tightly.

It's strange how something so small can make me feel a sliver of control in this hell hole.

My heart thuds painfully in my chest, loud enough that I'm sure Ashton will hear it the moment he steps through that basement door.

The room is too quiet.

The silence makes every sound sharper - the dripping of the water from the faucet in the bathroom, the soft shuffle of the bed sheet, the rustle of the cheap fabric clinging on to my skin.

My hands are slick with sweat, and I keep wiping them on the scratchy material as if trying to erase the fear from my palms. But I can't erase the fear, can I? Not when it's clawing at me, wrapping its icy fingers around my throat every time I think of what could happen next.

He's going to come back soon.

I know it.

The way he looked at me before he left... that sick, twisted smirk like he's already won me over with this.

But he hasn't.

I look over at the pillow where I've hidden the hairpin, knowing that it's still under there, waiting for me to put it to good use.

It's not much, but it's sharp enough to hurt him if I can get close enough to the right spots and the bar in my hand? It feels heavier with each passing second, like a lifeline.

I don't know what I'll do when he walks in-no, actually, I do know...

I'll fight with everything I have.

Because I have to.

Because if I don't, he'll take everything from me.

My body. My mind. My sanity. He's already stolen so much from me in the past, and I can't let him take any more.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

I can't let him win, not when I've been on the run for so long, doing so much better for myself.

Maybe I should hide somewhere? Catch him off guard in my attack?

I glance around at my bare surroundings, before standing to move towards the dresser, managing to squeeze myself in behind it.

My body feels electric with tension, every muscle coiled tight as I wait and wait for him to arrive.

The basement door has remained closed, but I know it won't stay that way for long. My breath comes out shallow, ragged pants.

I need to stay calm, stay focused. I need to be ready for this or else it could all blow up in my face.

But finally, after long stretching minutes, I finally hear it...

The faint jingle of keys outside the door.

My heart leaps up into my throat, the sound enough to send a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins. I press myself back against the dresser, out of sight but close enough to pounce when he enters. My grip on the bar tightens until my knuckles ache, but I welcome the pain. It grounds me, reminds me that I'm still here.

That I'm at least still alive.

Footsteps descending down the staircase are heard next.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Each one closer than the last as he whistles out a sickening tune in to the empty space, echoing his way down the staircase like a death sentence.

I close my eyes, just for a second as I feel my lip quiver, trying to steady my breathing.

I can't let him see how scared I am. Not again.

This time, I won't break and crumble.

"Sofia baby?! Have you fell asleep on me?" He suddenly calls out to me, seeming to head for the bedroom next after not finding me elsewhere.

I lick my drying lips, shuffling slightly to prepare myself to face him...

Eventually the door is pushed open fully, causing me to freeze, holding my breath.

He's here...

I can feel the pulse pounding in my ears, the adrenaline flooding my body.

This is it...

This is the moment I've been waiting for the moment I've also been dreading.

But I'm ready.

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I have to be.

"Ashton..." His name tastes like poison in my mouth, but I force myself to say it, to catch him off guard as he doesn't seem to be able to find me.

My voice sounds small, weaker than I want it to, but it's enough to make him stop, to make him look around the room, searching for me.

"Sofia?" His voice is casual, like we're having some normal conversation, like he hasn't been keeping me down here like an animal. "I brought you some snacks. You must be starving again, it's been hours... come out and get them." He teases, as I swallow hard.

Starving...

The word hangs in the air like a taunt.

He thinks he's still in control here, that I'm just going to sit here and let him dictate every moment of my life.

Not this time.

I can hear him walking further into the room, hear the soft thud of something - probably the food? - being placed on the table.

He still hasn't seen me yet but he knows I'm in here.

I need to keep it that way, just for a little longer. Just until I have the right moment to strike.

He steps closer to the bed.

I can smell him now, the sickening scent of cologne and sweat mixed together. My stomach twists, but I don't move. Not yet.

"Come on, Sofia. Don't be fucking difficult." His voice is dripping with condescension. "You know I just want to take care of you, I really don't want to lose my temper with you again."

Care? He wouldn't know how to care for anyone but himself. My fingers flex around the metal bar again, feeling the cold weight of it steady me.

He steps even closer, his shoes scuffing the floor, and I know he's near the bed now.

That's when I strike.

I lunge out from behind the dresser, swinging the bar with everything I have.

The shock on his face is satisfying for half a second before the metal connects with his shoulder.

He stumbles back, letting out a surprised shout, and I don't stop. I can't stop. I swing again, aiming for his head this time, but he's faster than I expect, grabbing my wrist with a strength that makes me gasp. "Sofia!" he snarls, his grip tightening painfully. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

My heart races as I struggle against his hold, twisting and turning, trying to pull myself free, but he's too strong. He forces me down onto the bed, his weight pinning me, and for a split second, panic blinds me.

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I thrash, kicking and clawing at him with my free hand, feeling the cold rush of fear swallow me whole as his large hand finds its way to my throat.

He starts choking me, as I look up into his darkened eyes - the person he once was buried somewhere deep within with no hope of ever coming back.

He was mad...

He was psychotic!

I panic, losing out on more air with the tighter he starts to grip me - with heavy gasps and pants leaving my mouth as my eyes begin to lull closed as I realise he would probably kill me if I don't do something soon. But then I suddenly remember about the hairpin...

I yank my hand out from under his grip and scramble to grab the hairpin from beneath the pillow.

Without thinking, I stab it up towards his face, aiming for his eye, his throat - anywhere that would hurt him more.

I feel it connect with something soft, his cheek, and Ashton howls out in pain, rolling off of me as he clutches his face and allows for a flood of oxygen to enter my lungs.

I sit up gasping harshly, before moving to stab it down again in to his neck this time, in a sudden frenzy to save my own life.

He yells as the blood pours out of the tiny punctures between his fingers, his eyes wide with fury and shock at what I had managed to do.

"You stupid little bitch!" he screams, attempting to lunge toward me again, but I'm faster this time. I scramble to my feet, my heart racing, adrenaline fueling every move as I rush to grab the metal bar.

He coughs and stumbles slightly, as I rush at him swinging, the sweat pouring out of my skin in the heat of the moment...

I bash him over the head, knocking him down on to his knees, before a sudden thought comes in to my mind - the keys!

Grab the damn keys!

I attempt to pat him down in his weakened state, trying to figure out what pocket he kept them in, but he quickly begins to fight me back again - his free hand finding its way up and in to my hair.

Hissing loudly from the sharp pain in my scalp as he tugs me backwards, I don't know what else to do in that moment other than to reach for the puncture in his neck - pressing my nail in to it harshly.

It seems to act as enough to cause him to let me go, screeching from the pain of the action before his fist connects with my cheek - knocking me back in shock from the hit.

I scramble forward again, adrenaline being the only thing keeping me alive right now, before I finally hear the jingle of the keys coming from his back left pocket.

Grabbing them out, I run out of the room and straight for the door, not looking back as I hear him cursing and thrashing to stand up from behind me.

My only thought is to escape...

I must escape!

I have to get out of here.