Venom

016

A hand gripped Helen's shoulder and started shaking her. "Get up," a cold voice said. Dean's voice.

Helen groaned. What the fuck. Why was he waking her up this violently? "Go away," she grunted, kicking her leg in the empty sheets. where his body usually rested.

Dean shook her again, and she shot up so quickly he had to step back to dodge a header. Jeez. "Well, good morning, brat," he said, folding his arms in front of his chest.

She scowled at him and muttered something under her breath, but he didn't catch it. "Why the heck did you wake me up?" she snapped, hiding back under the warm covers. Being locked up sucked, but at least she could sleep in.

Dean threw the covers away and her body shivered. "I have to go get groceries and some stuff. I didn't know how long you'd be asleep for, and if I left you cuffed to the bed you wouldn't have been able to go to the bathroom. You're welcome," he explained, freeing her hands of the long metal bands.

Helen groaned again, massaging her wrists, which were then tied up again. "I can't feel my wrists anymore," she commented, getting out of the bed and walking towards the toilet. She made sure her hips swung as she walked.

Dean couldn't stop his eyes from looking down at her round hips and her plump ass. You're disgusting, he told himself, forcing his eyes back up on the bed, avoiding her figure, only to look back a second later, as she turned to him and winked. Bitch. She'd done it on purpose.

She had seen him looking at her behind through the mirror in the bathroom. Hilarious and predictable. "See you later, babe," she teasingly purred, and slipped into the bathroom.

He only rolled his eyes and drifted away towards the door, grabbing his car keys and leaving, locking the door with the new code, which changed every day.
He needed the fresh air of New York to blow into his lungs and freshen up his mind.

Helen heard the front door closing. She waited a few minutes before she was sure he was gone. She grinned to herself. Fucking idiot, she thought as she snapped the needle in her bracelet free and unlocked the handcuffs. Finally. Her wrists hurt like hell. She put them under cold water and sighed at the comfort of it.

After getting ready, she put on some black leggings and a white T, slipping a gray sweater over it. Oh, yeah, one of Dean's gray sweaters. Now, she could begin her plan. At fucking last.

She went to the kitchen and left the cuffs on the table. Then she started looking around for knives or forks, but soon found out that they were all locked into a drawer with a digital lock. Whatever, she'd find something else.

She tapped on the windows, even threw a chair at them, and unfortunately realized that they were made of some kind of specific glass that can't be broken. And, of course, they were locked. Even if they weren't, she wouldn't be able to jump out or climb her way to the roof, even if she tried using the slim pipe on the side of the building.

Giving up on that, she broke some glasses, but the chips were too small to be used as a weapon. Helen glanced at the clock in the kitchen. Dean had been gone for almost thirty minutes, and wouldn't be gone much longer. She had to find a way, and find it quickly. But there was nothing that could be broken or sharpened.

Helen groaned loudly, slamming her fist on the hard table. Think. She went to the bathroom, trying to freshen up her mind with some ice cold water splashed on her face. "Ahh," she exhaled as the water splattered on her skin.

She looked up, staring at her figure in the mirror.

Shit. Shit!

Helen laughed at herself, and threw a punch at the mirror. She could have used so many other things, but at the moment she wanted to feel the pain and the blood drooling down her hand, staining the gray sweater. The mirror broke in a web-like shape, the center of it thick with small fractures, whilst the outside had larger blades of reflecting glass.