The Little Girl Found

Her eyelids flickered open, dim green eyes becoming brighter as she became more aware. Those same green eyes stared at first at the low wooden ceiling above her lit by a warm, orange glow. She turned her head and saw an old oil lamp, burning, on a table by her head. A stool stood, empty by the end table, a book, a book she knew wasn’t left for her because there’s a bookmark poking through the middle of the pages. She lifted her head a little and saw the light and heat are coming from another source as well; a fire by the foot of the bed.

She laid her blonde hair against the pillow and it settled into to Victoria Walker's mind that she was in a bed. She was in a bed in a very small cabin. Beside the table and the lamp by her bed there was a small kitchen. It was deprived of most appliances except for a small stove. No oven, no fridge, not even a kettle, just a tea pot that sat upon the stove, unused. Unused was the kind word for everything in this room. Abandoned would be better.

Sitting up again, she scrunched her nose the dust and musk irritating the hairs inside. This room smelt of cobwebs and damp, though it looked like it had been recently cleaned. But that ‘cleaning’ kicked up a lot of dust clouds, so even breathing in this place felt like a chore. Victoria Walker coughed and wondered how long she had been here. It felt like a long time.

Closing her eyes, she remembered walking towards the caves. Memory leaked back to her, dripping in details, piece by piece. First, she was reminded that Gavin was missing, then that she’d slipped. After that, she had a memory of falling, into somewhere dark, where she landed awkwardly and bumped into a wall. Had she hit her head? She rubbed at her temple and felt it tender but not bleeding or swollen.

Attempting to swing her legs over the side of the bed, Victoria felt a spike of pain run from her foot up towards her knee. Pulling back the covers she saw that her yoga pants had been removed. Disturbing as that was, it was also unnerving to see that her left leg was taped and wrapped in bandages from just above her toes all the way up to just below her knee. She hoped whoever had taken off her bottoms had only done so to fix up whatever was wrong with her leg. There was some solace to be had at least in the fact that she was still wearing her little, white, cotton panties, her bra and her loose tank top.

Again, she tried to get out of bed, moving a little more gingerly this time to protect her leg. Once she had both legs over the edge, Victoria tried standing. It appeared that she could put some weight on the damaged side but it was quite painful. Instead, she chose to hop, a hand on the stool for support as she moved into the kitchen half of the hut for a better look. There was a sink and some glasses but when she tried to run the faucet to get herself a drink she found that there was no water. Cursing, she set the glass down and looked around again.

Directly opposite the sink, there was a single door. Eager and hopeful, she bounced over and grasped the handle. She wriggled it furiously, leaning against the wood, begging it to open but the door remained shut and locked. She turned and pressed her back against the door, looking up as she tried to figure out the situation that she was in.

The first obvious fact was that someone had brought her here. The second obvious fact was that someone had left but was coming back, as evidenced by the book. A third observation to be made was that the person in question cared for her, or at least wanted to help. But not enough not to trap her here. If it were anyone of her friends, they’d have taken her back to the cabin. And if it were a ranger or someone of authority, they wouldn’t have left her here. So, Victoria was left with the dreaded presumption that whoever dragged her here was some creep who thought he owned her now because he’d saved her life.

That wasn’t going to happen, Victoria told herself, her fists clenched at her side. Determined to survive, the blonde teen steeled herself for a fight. She’d need a weapon. The teapot was her first thought, but maybe there was something better. The stool…might be good for holding her attacker back but looked awkward to wield. Hobbling over to the fire, she saw another chair, this one with her yoga pants folded and her shoes placed neatly underneath. That was nice…but even nicer was the fire poker leaning against the frame of the fireplace.

Picking it up, Victoria practised a few swings and a few stabs, getting a feel for the weight in her hands. Yes, this would do nicely and just in the nick of time. As she became acquainted with her weapon, she heard the keyhole of the door jiggle with the sound of the key being inserted into the lock. Priming herself, poker held high, Victoria awaited her captor. The lock clicked and the handle turned. As the door opened, Victoria closed her eyes and swung feeling the tremors up long the length of the forged iron as it connected with her target.