bamboo doesn't grow in dark spaces. [80K Words / Complete]

chapter thirty-four, part one.

Days passed, down in the basement. Case needed to be smart. Needed to be patient, to bide his time. The drive for escape burned in his core, but he knew he couldn't be hasty. After all, his body was still weak and recovering from the anaphylaxis. And, most importantly, he needed a plan. He had an idea, but it needed refining. He was only getting one shot at this, and it needed to be perfect.

Sir brought in another month's worth of supplies. The mango-and-citrus bodywash Case liked was on top of the pile, an olive branch presented to him on extra rolls of toilet paper. Case smiled, thanking Sir, knowing he had zero intention of using the supplies. Eleven lines marked the wall, and one thing was certain: Case wasn't going to be trapped in this basement for a year.

Wind whistled through the ventilation shaft, rattling through the crawlspace overhead. Humidity thickened the air, the mugginess sticking to Case's skin. He forced himself to work out in the heat, push-ups and pull-ups to build his upper-body strength, sweat clinging to him like a dampness he couldn't dry. At night, his body was slick against Sir's. He didn't enjoy it, but he didn't fight either. He'd lay there—a ragdoll, Sir's favorite, well-used toy—staring over Sir's shoulder. Staring at the crack in the ceiling that'd gone black with the night.

When the time was right, when Case knew in his gut that this would be the last time, he responded to Sir's touch. His final performance. He encouraged Sir to bite him, spit on him, hurt and degrade him. Get rough, so Sir wouldn't notice when Case dragged his own nails up the older man's body, pink trails drawing blood. When Sir left, Case didn't shower. He got dressed, and lay back down on the stained mattress. Skin crawling with germs and filth. Nerves and adrenaline coursing through him like a paralysis drug. Waiting.

Waiting for time to pass.

Waiting for sunlight to bleed through the crack.

This is it, he thought, taking a bracing breath. He'd spent almost a week carefully devising this plan. Once he put it into motion, there was no room for error. And no going back. Time to move.

Case sat up, ready for the first stage of his plan. He cleared the paperbacks from the bookshelf, stacking them to the side where they wouldn't get in his way. It'd taken both Case and Sir to move the bookshelf into place, but now Case needed to do the heavy lifting on his own. He grabbed one end of the bookshelf, dragging it away from the wall, the heavy wood screeeeeching against the concrete. Case was sure the basement was soundproof, but if Sir did hear him, he had an excuse at the ready: I got bored, so I thought I'd rearrange some things. I hope that's okay? I'm not that strong, would you mind helping me? He dragged the bookshelf into the open expanse of the basement, lining it up below the crack in the ceiling. Stage one was complete. Already, he was sweaty, panting and his heart racing from exertion and adrenaline.

Don't stop. Keep moving.

From this point, Case couldn't risk getting caught. He took the bodywash from the supplies crate. He hurried up the stairs, starting from the top and working his way to the bottom, as he poured the liquid soap over the steps. The amber goo dribbled through the metal grate, the mango, citrus, reinvigorating scent filling the basement. By the time he got to the ground floor, he'd squeezed the bottle dry.

Now, the hard part.

Case surveyed the empty bookshelf. Started to question, how strong are the shelves? How much weight can this thing hold? Oh, well. The time for questions and second thoughts was long passed. He placed his foot on one of the lower shelves, ready to climb, but then he paused. He'd forgotten something.

The Hobbit was on top of the tower of books. Case grabbed the book, tucking it into his waistband. Yes, he was bringing this one thing with him. Not as a memento, but as something he hoped Sophie could see from beyond the veil. A small token that she might feel meant a small part of her had escaped, too.