The Cabin in the Woods

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  • Published: 13 May 2017
  • Updated: 7 Jun 2017
  • Status: Complete
Privington, Ashville not only holds the most interesting records of criminals, but it also is the home to the three young detectives; Marty, Wesley, and Jackie. After closing down yet another stolen goods operation, the trio is called upon to take on another task. However, this time it's different, and later on known to be extremely dangerous.

Chief Blanton, of the Privington Police Department, has given the young sleuths the task of finding his son, who has disappeared. Of course they accept, not knowing exactly what they were getting themselves into. When Jackie gets kidnapped, will the trio decide to back off or will they fight on? Will they find the chief's son, or will they fail?

Read on to dive deeper into this mystery.

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21. Chapter 21 - (Jackie's P.O.V)

The man approached me slowly, knowing that I had no escape. He towered over me, casting me further into the shadows. The grin on his face never faltered and his eyes gleamed with pure evil. I didn't know if it was just the lighting in the room that made his eyes look black as coal, but I was positive that this man wasn't going to be easy with me whatsoever.

 

"Now," he said, his voice a deep rumbling roar in the silent and still room. "We can do this the easy way...or I can drag you out of here by your hair. Your choice, little girl."

 

The name frightened me, the threat too, but his laugh is what terrified the wits out of me. He laughed as I cowered in the shadows, trembling so badly I was sure to break down. I didn't answer him, but I did begin to scooch back away from the man, away from the only exit in the room.

 

"I love it when they cower in fright," he commented, moving closer still. "It makes this whole thing a lot more fun!"

 

I knew that the room was not never ending, but I was still panicked when my back hit the wall. I had nowhere to go. No means of escape. I was trapped here.

 

"Come on, little girl. I'll give you a chance now. How's that sound?"

 

On shaky limbs I arose, reaching for the wall for support. I didn't dare look into those deathly dark eyes of his, for if I did I knew I'd be finished.

 

"That's it. Now, just move forward so I can ensure you don't—"

 

I took my chance. I didn't see when I'd ever have another opportunity to escape. I ran. I ran as fast as I could, just hoping that he would be caught by surprise, hopefully pushed over leaving me with a clear getaway. I aimed towards the door but really I didn't know if I was actually going that way. And then just like that I was caught. It was over.

 

I was roughly pulled back into a tight hold, my back to his broad chest, my arms held securely to my sides. I could feel a hot, raspy breath on my head and the force in which the man held me tighten. I made a little yelp as the pain reached almost unbearable.

 

He roughly pushed my head aside, allowing himself to move closer to my ear, making it clear that he wanted me to hear what he was about to say.

 

"Little girls like you get hurt when they do stupid things," he growled in my ear, yanking my hair. I yelled in pain and a single tear rolled down my cheek. He gripped my right arm tight and moved it from my side to behind my back where he raised it. I felt a jolt of pain shoot up my arm. "You had your chance to do things nice and easy," he sneered, then added in a much darker voice, "But now I'm not going to play so nice.'' With that he raised my arm even higher and I swear if he continued he would surely break it.

 

Tears began to freely run down my face as excruciating pain filled me. I yelled and screamed, kicked and cried, but I knew that if help didn't arrive soon, I wouldn't be leaving this place at all.

 

(Marty's P.O.V)

"Got it?" Wesley asked after going over the plan before show time.

 

"Got it," I assured him, adding a thumbs up.

 

We hoped we didn't have to put up a fight, but considering the situation we had at hand, we knew that it just might occur and that we should be ready if it does. If it meant getting Jackie back—and of course Frank too—then it's what we'd do.

 

The early morning was dark, yet the gleaming stars above brightened the streets, the moon casting an eerie glow down upon us. There was a light breeze which sent the fallen leaves scattering one way, curling up then dropping back to the ground again. The tree branches swung with every new gust of mild wind, lightly tap tap tapping the sides of the houses and fences that they hung over. Our footsteps were muffled by the silent whispers that were heard throughout the abandoned streets, allowing us to reach our destination undisturbed. As we neared the end of the road where it opened up to reveal the cabin, I could see the lights were on. However, I didn't notice any movement or any sign of Jackie or Frank. What if they knew that we were going to show up again? What if they had no use for Jackie and...and—

 

I quickly disposed the thought, tossing it to the very back of my mind. Dwelling on theses thoughts won't be of any service, I reminded myself. With a quick glance to each other, Wesley and I made for the side of the house. The same side in which Jackie had rushed to on our first time here. All the while we kept low, not wanting to be seen, caught and then have our cover blown. I ducked below the window which had been repaired sometime after it had been shattered by a bullet, and paused as I remembered what we—what I—would do next. I took a deep breath, told Wesley to get ready, and then I was off. I jogged silently around the house, looking for the door. Or any door really. Rounding a corner I caught sight of a porch. The coast was clear—no guards, no sounds or movement.

 

"Wesley!" I whisper-yelled, hoping that in this silence I would be heard by Wesley. But only Wesley. I waited for at least five seconds and nobody showed.

 

"Wesley?!" I said just a tad louder.

 

Again, nothing.

 

"Wesley!" I called as loud as I dared. And then finally when I didn't think he'd show, he rounded the corner, but not alone. A man that looked to be in his mid to late thirties accompanied him, a gun in his right hand.

 

"Run!" Wesley commanded.

 
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