Into the Vault: A psychological thriller about a young woman locked in a life that she does not recognize.

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Into the Vault: A psychological thriller about a young woman locked in a life that she does not recognize. Page 5

by Marie Ellie


  I remember that during the remodeling of the house, I sneaked into the office and saw the door of what would be the basement in that corner, but now there is a shelf there. It must be a secret door, if William is a federal agent investigating the corrupt, it’s normal to have a secret door, like in the movies. Now, how does it open? What book do I have to remove and put back? Or is it a candle? Maybe it's some button or magic word? Nothing, there’s nothing here out of the ordinary. How the hell does it open? And if I just move it? Nothing…

  I lose hope in such a way that I turn my back towards the shelf, lean back and let myself fall to the floor, exerting pressure on the furniture towards the wall and suddenly hear a click, it can’t be! That's how it opens! You have to push the furniture towards the wall until you released the lock. No kidding. A circle of light falls from the shelf, and the entrance to the basement is exposed.

  I start to go down, but it's very dark. Maybe there is a switch in the office so as not to go down with the light off. I look around and find it, press it and it turns on a dim light that only allows me to see very little. From here I can see a switch at the bottom of the stairs. I go very slowly, I don’t know why but I'm scared, basements have always scared me, and it's cold down here, the temperature must be something like 50 degrees. I reach the end of the stairs and press the switch ... my lord!

  My eyes can not believe what they are seeing. William has his own laboratory at home, and I didn’t even know about it. Of course, I'm never home; I'm always very busy at the tennis club. I stand up, looking all around, there are so many things that in the end I can’t see anything. I have to go little by little; metal shelves with doors in the back, a stretcher with leather bands at the ends on the right side of the basement. Those bands would be for tying the hands and feet of the corrupt people they catch. A chair which with restraint bands, it looks like an electric chair, but I don’t think that he’d go that far. I wonder why William wants all this in his own home.

  I walk a few steps, and I stand in front of a metal cabinet with doors. There are no locks this time, so I simply turn the knobs and open them wide. What I find makes me even more confused. Hospital utensils, tools and dozens of the same bottle. I take one of the small jars that remind me of the bottles of insulin my grandmother had in the fridge. The label is white with an orange stripe that says the name in white letters, Midazolam.

  CHAPTER VI

  A PLAN FOR ESCAPING THE HOUSE

  I close the metal cabinet. I stay there observing the place for a few seconds and wonder what would have happened there if I never found out. My mind is running so fast that it’s better to stop it before it crashes. I clutch the small vial of unknown contents to my chest, walk to the stairs, turn off the lights and go up to William's office. Once there, I close the basement door, look for the encyclopedia I had seen while scoping out the room a few hours before.

  I stand in front of the encyclopedia and while looking through the rows in search of the letter M think who has a physical encyclopedia these days? That’s something that has been lost. Before in every house, there was an encyclopedia, it was like the Bible, you had to have one. Now with the internet all that has been lost, except for William of course, he, for some reason, keeps his great red wine-colored encyclopedia.

  I find the letter M, removing the tome from the shelf and placing it on the desk to be able to search calmly. I open the book and start looking for Midazolam, I find it, and as I read, my confusion grows deeper. Midazolam, according to this book, “is a short half-life benzodiazepine used as an anxiolytic that is administered intravenously, intranasally, rectally, orally or intramuscularly. It is a powerful anxiolytic, hypnotic, anticonvulsant and skeletal muscle relaxant and has sedative properties.”

  Wow, what would William be using this medicine for? There’ll be time to find out. For now, I think it will help me get out of here. That’s it! If I give Charles a little, he’ll fall asleep, and I can escape. Great, now the important thing is to make Charles take it.

  I put the volume of the encyclopedia in its proper place and leave the office to where Charles had set up his guard, the kitchen. When I arrive, he is standing at the window, looking out...

  “Charles, did something happen?”

  “Ma'am, I did not hear you arrive. No, I was just checking the surroundings.”

  “Any news?”

  “Nothing still.”

  “Do you want a drink?”

  “No, ma'am, I've already eaten, and I've had enough for today.”

  That’s not good, if he doesn’t eat anything, I won’t be able to give him the midazolam and I won’t be able to get out of here. Think Grace, but hide it while you’re thinking, don’t stay quiet too long in front of this guy or he’ll see right through you.

  “It's already getting dark.”

  “Almost there.”

  “I'm going to make tea, do you want some?”

  “No, ma'am, thank you.”

  I get out a pot to heat some water and make old-fashioned tea. I pour some water into it directly from the tap and put the pan on the stove. While I turn on the stove, I look sideways at Charles, who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since I got to the kitchen. I don’t know if he suspects that I'm up to something or if it's also in his instructions to look at me while I'm around.

  While the water heats up, I head over to the cupboard and look for a box of mixed tea that William had bought. He likes to have tea at night, it relaxes him, and now that I'm discovering things about his work, I understand why he needs to relax. It must be very stressful hunting for corrupt people and even more so when one of them is your father-in-law, and you can’t tell your wife. Poor William, the long nights that he must have spent thinking about how to give me that news or how he could prevent me from finding out so that I wouldn’t suffer such a disappointment. I return my attention to the tea box and choose a dark bag that says “salted caramel mate herbal & black tea.” Heck of a flavor for a tea, I hope it’s good.

  The water starts to make little bubbles, and as I look at them, I think about the possibility of taking the midazolam myself. If Charles doesn’t want to drink anything, I can put a few drops in the tea and take it myself. Surely I’ll faint or something because of the sedative effect, and I’ll most likely be taken to a hospital and then when I wake up outside of this house it’ll be easier to escape. Of course! That’s it, I don’t have to worry about anything, he'll just take me out of here and take me to the hospital, and then I'll take care of the rest.

  With the plan in mind and a determination to execute it, I realize that Charles hasn’t taken his eyes off me, the water is still spurting small sporadic bubbles, and I say to him:

  “Hey! Can you keep an eye on the water while I go to the bathroom?”

  “Sure, ma'am.”

  “Well, when it starts to boil, put the water in the teapot, and I’ll put the bag inside. When I arrive, I’ll serve myself. Cool?”

  “I got it.”

  I walk to the guest bathroom on the first floor. I enter, lock the door, open the syringe that I had taken from the metal cabinet and take out a little bit of the midazolam, just the dose for a person of my size. I unscrew the needle section, throw it in the trash and put the lid on the syringe. I check that the liquid does not come out and put it in my pocket. I store the bottle in the bathroom cabinet, behind some soap made out of oatmeal and goat milk, then flush the toilet just in case Charles is spying on me and wash my hands so that everything seems to be normal. I leave the bathroom towards the kitchen. When I get there Charles is sitting, the water has already boiled, and he put it in the teapot, just as I asked.

  “If I stay watching it, the water will never boil,” I tell him in a joking tone to lower the tension in the room.

  “That’s how it always is,” he tells me with a shy smile that makes him look absolutely precious.

  I look for a cup, put the tea in that was already ready, put the teapot aside, take the cup and move to the other side of the ki
tchen where the sugar is. There I turn my back to Charles, and between looking for sugar, a teaspoon, pouring the sugar, stirring the tea and all that ritual, I took a second when Charles turned away to check the surroundings to pour the midazolam in the tea and hide the syringe. All that in less than 3 seconds, movie style. I can’t believe it, but I did it.

  I take a deep breath, take my cup and go to sit next to Charles. Obviously, if I fall or something, I want him to be close so he can help me. I don’t know how I'm going to drink this, I've always been a bad drinker and to top it off I'm not really a tea lover, I'm more of a coffee drinker, but whatever, that’s another topic. I have to be strong, drink the blessed tea, get out of here and rescue William.

  I take a deep breath and take the first sip. I think about looking for more sugar, this is really bitter. It must be the medicine. I stand up again and look for the sugar jar and a teaspoon. While sweetening my tea, I decided to make conversation with Charles.

  “Do you have a girlfriend, Charles?” I ask while moving the spoon and checking if the amount of sugar is right.

  “No, I don’t have time.”

  “Time Charles? Relationships aren’t about whether or not you have time, you they’re about whether you feel it or not. Either you feel love for someone, or you don’t feel it. You can make time, as long as there is interest.” I unleashed on him without entrusting myself to anyone, and his wavering glance gave me the strength to take a second and third sip.

  “Maybe you’re right, but hey, I haven’t had the time to meet someone, I've dedicated myself to work.”

  “How long have you worked with William?”

  “About 5 years.”

  “Wow, 5 years and I’m just meeting you now?”

  “Well, I’ve come here before ma'am, but you're always in the tennis club.”

  “Oh, right. So you know I'm a tennis instructor, right?”

  “Yes, everyone knows it.”

  “Everyone?” I ask him, and while listening to his answer, I looked at the contents of the cup to know how much tea I still have left.

  “Yes, I mean Mr. William's employees.”

  “Do you play tennis?”

  “No ma'am.”

  “Would you like to learn? It’s good exercise.”

  “Well, the truth is, it's a classy sport.”

  “Exactly Charles, tennis was invented in France in the eighteenth century and was practiced by the upper-class elites of that era. That, traditionally, hasn’t changed, that's why I'm doing so well with classes.” By the time I finish the sentence I begin to feel a little dizzy, but I take one last sip, long and deep, finishing the contents of the cup in its entirety.

  Charles is talking to me about tennis. I see his lips move as if articulating something interesting about the sport but I stopped listening to him several seconds ago. My head is spinning, I feel like the whole house is moving around me. Charles's lips stop, he stares at me, they move again, he seems to be saying my name. He is calling me, he realizes that something is wrong with me. I try to extend my arms to him but I can not, I feel that I am falling and the last thing I see is Charles holding me. My vision is clouded, I no longer hear, I don’t see, I don’t feel anything.

  I fall into a deep sleep. I am not aware of the outside world, but everything is beautiful here. I'm in a dream; I know I am because everything is a perfect and bright color that can’t be real. It's like wearing polarized lenses, that's how beautiful everything looks. I feel free, as free as I’ve always been or more. My body is weightless; I float through space enjoying the steps that I don’t feel with my feet. Is this what it’s like to be high? If this is how it feels to be high, now I understand why people become addicted. This is beautiful.

  I'm in a field, full of pastel flowers. The field is huge, I can’t see where it ends, I look at the horizon, and the beauty continues until it gets lost insight and the flowers flood the entire panorama. I step among them, but none of them fall to the ground or break down when I do it, it is as if they were not there. I lie on the ground as soft as a cloud and look at the sky. I lose myself in the colors, a palette of colors so wide that it is impossible to count how many I see. The orange predominates, so in this sidereal space, it must be dusk. Happiness invades me, but at that moment, I think about sharing that happiness with the man I love, William.

  Thinking about William brings me back to reality, it's as if his name was so heavy that it anchors me strongly and prevents me from dreaming. I return to the heavy floor, to the bed that pulls me, I don’t feel like I’m floating, now I feel heavy, I can’t move, I'm back in bed, without opening my eyes, I only hear a deafening beep coming from a hospital machine. I've done it, Charles has taken me out of the house and brought me to the hospital.

  CHAPTER VII

  THE LONGEST WAY HOME

  I don’t know how much time has passed since I realized I was in a hospital until now. The beep of the machine is still here, and it’s already becoming annoying. Certain technology needs to be changed and those hospital machines that nobody understands, are in that group. I hear Charles call a nurse to check the machine which is beeping more than normal. His tone is strong and sharp, the noise must be affecting his calm and unflappable temper that he holds most of the time. Speaking of time, what time will it be. I suppose it’s already at least morning because when I took the midazolam it was getting dark, so it must be daytime. Although in hospitals time is transformed and the clock’s hands slow down. What has actually been an hour, seems like three and you never know for sure how much time has passed unless you have a clock nearby. I can say that the best thing does not have a clock and when then being happy when you leave the hospital not to have lost all the time that you thought and realizing that it was actually less.

  The nurse arrives, I know because I hear two different rhythms of steps. Charles has gone to look for her instead of sitting and waiting for her to arrive. That tells me that he has lost his cool, that coolness which characterized him at all times, even in ones full of uncertainty such as a kidnapping. That is good for me. If Charles isn’t calm, it means that he won’t be focused on his work either, which according to him is taking care of me and if he doesn’t take care of me, I can escape more easily. Of course, I'll have to wait until I can move, because right now I can’t even move. At least I can be attentive to what happens around me.

  The nurse has managed to stop the beep.

  “The serum has been used up; it has to be changed. Let me go find what we need; I'll be right back.”

  “Please ma’am, be fast.”

  “Don’t worry; I'll be right back.”

  The machine is no longer beeping; perhaps it turned off while they were getting me a new serum. I hear Charles's breathing, he's there, beside me, nervous, worried, maybe he thinks his job is in danger, his duty was to take care of me, and I ended up in the hospital. He must be blaming himself for that. I can’t tell him not to worry; I’ll talk to William about that to explain that it was not his fault and that he shouldn’t lose his job. He’s been a good boy and has been watching me; it's just that in these circumstances I can’t sit by idly. I don’t know what my father is capable of. I don’t know where he’s keeping William if he has him and I have to find out before it's too late.

  The nurse returns to the room; I listen to her steps, they are quick and sharp. She’s wearing sneakers with rubber soles that squeak on the polished floor, that's good, I can tell when it’s Charles and when it’s a nurse by the squeaking of the soles against the floor. I feel her work next to me with the plastic cables that carry the serum to my veins. She manages to untangle them, connect the new one, turn on the machine and in less than three minutes I have the serum connected and falling drop by drop. The machine starts with its work, the nurse leaves the hospital room and Charles and I are left alone. I feel his eyes on me, I cannot see him but his eyes burn me, and his breathing is still fast and strong.

  I concentrate on Charles's breathing, inhale for five seconds and
exhale so hard that I can hear it easily. I get lost in that rhythmical breathing and suddenly the Hotel room from the previous morning is in my mind. I hadn’t noticed, but I feel the same as at that moment. I can’t move, I can’t open my eyes, I can only hear. It is the same sensation, exactly the same symptoms. It's weird, how can it be possible for you to experience the same sensation? Could the kidnappers have used the same substance to drug both me and William? It's possible. If not, how could you explain this coincidence? Exactly, I couldn’t. It has to be that; it must be a substance very commonly used by kidnappers to sedate their victims. Poor William, he was also sedated and taken somewhere he doesn’t know. That must be horrifying. I have to help him; I have to get out of here, find my father and demand that he return my husband.

  I pay attention to Charles's breathing again; he's still anxious. This time I can see him, not completely, I can only open my eyes slightly, and there is Charles, just as I had imagined, sitting in a chair that seemed to be uncomfortable just looking at it. He watches me closely, I can see him, but my eyelashes cloud my sight. I close my eyes to hope to recover more senses before Charles begins to notice. He must be watching me for that, to know when I start moving when I give some sign of improvement. The poor man must be worried, but I can’t feel sorry for him now. I need to recover completely so I can get out of here without him noticing, and the first chance I get, run away.

 

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