The Bride✓

↦Chapter 12: Tension in the Kitchen

Grace stopped running when she arrived at the secret room. An idea suddenly popped in her mind as she stared at the door. She glanced to her surrounding when she abruptly pulled the door and rushed straight to the old painting where the large shotgun was placed.

She hastily grapped the leather on which the bullets were suspended and placed it around her shoulder and her waist. She then grapped the shotgun and placed her eyes into the aim hole.

I can do it!

She reassured herself and made her exit when she stopped and stared at her figure from toe to head through the mirror of in front.

Grace looked like the perfect transformation of beauty into a total mess. Her once bridal gown was now turned into a tannered piece of cloth and with her disheveled blonde hairs flopping in her eyes, Grace looked like a kid of forteen.

"Jesus" she whispered to herself, unbelievable that this could happen during her wedding night.

•••

Alex rapidly trudged inside the security room when he locked the door and went towards the computers.

"Fuck. Fucking shit!" he said as he desperately searched for the switch to turn on the cameras.

Meanwhile Grace made her entry inside the kitchen, just as Alex told her. She carefully looked at her surrounding when she rushed to the door which could lead her outside. She pulled the handle but it simply rattled. It was still locked.

She then turned her gaze towards the camera from the top of behind:

"Come on, Alex" she whispered to herself when an idea came up in her mind. The shotgun. The lock.

Maybe I can break it open with the shotgun ,she thought.

She aimed the shotgun to the locker when she pulled the trigger. It simply clicked but nothing came out of it. She grunted.

Shit, I forgot the bullets, she realised.

She was about to slid a bullet inside the triggering site of the weapon when she heard someone whistling and footsteps approaching towards the kitchen.

Grace instantly pulled down and hide behind the table which was in the middle of the room.

Meanwhile Alex was trying to turn on the cameras by pulling on and adjusting the buttons.

"Monitors. Monitors!!" he said to himself.

The humming and whistling of Tchaikovsky's 1812 overdue was from nobody but Steven.

He continued whistling when he grabbed himself a grape from the fruit plate and placed one in his mouth. It seemed that he was bored, so he decided to make himself some tea. But for that, he had to fetch the boiler which was lying on table a few feet away from him.

Grace felt that Steven would be moving nearer to her hiding place. She realised if she stayed there, she could easily be seen by him. Her location and his wasn't that far away. So, she silently, delicately and carefully crawled and moved to the other side of the table

•••

Alex finally succeeded in turning on the cameras after several attempts. But his happiness was ruined and his facial expression changed when he stared at Grace and Steven in the kitchen through the screen.

"Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit"

Alex started drenching in perspiration as he kept watching.

•••