The Purebreds

Chapter Five

I lay slumped on the floor, panting after the transformation. Feigning complete fatigue and defeat, I whimpered pitifully.

Brian the buffoon snickered, kicking my side, “Not so tough now, are you?” he sneered, “See you tomorrow, Hunter.”

After the door closed, I waited till I heard the scuffle of shoes fade away and the click of sliding door opening and closing before I moved into action. Who knew what these oddly-accepting-of-the-supernatural beings could do. I sat up and I got to work. With both hind legs firmly on my front cuff chains, I began to pull and wriggle my left paw around. Ignoring the pain as my wrist was rubbed raw, I concentrated on the gradual loosening of my paw, almost face planting myself when it finally came loose with an almighty yank. Smiling at my progress, I did the same for rest of my paws, till they were all free. Licking my sore paws and a little blood away, I allowed myself a few moments of rest before padding towards the window.

Using the wall for support, I stood on my hind legs, only to find I wasn’t nearly tall enough to reach the window. I growled in frustration. I did not just go through all that tugging for nothing! I eyed the pile of blankets. Well, it was worth a try.

I moved the makeshift bed underneath the window and re-piled the blankets as high as they would go. Clambering up the pile, I once again hoisted myself up on my hind legs, leaning on the wall. Ugh, just a little higher...

I looked around the room, my eyes landing on the chair. Well, it could work. I glanced at the door. I wonder how keen their hearing was...

I padded over to the chair, crawling under the legs till the chair was straddled on my back. Slowly, I pushed myself off the ground and stood up, flattening my back and shoulders to balance the chair. Thank goodness the seat was small, or this probably wouldn’t work. I slowly sidled back to the blankets and lowered the chair onto the pile.

Climbing on to the chair gingerly, I slowly raised my front paws onto the window sill, taking a peek outside. Glancing around, I took in the foliage around me. And boy, was it thick. It appeared that whoever had made this little hole had only bothered to clear out a couple of meters around. Gently levering myself down onto the chair, I thought through what I knew. Considering my frequent visitors, there had to be people living nearby. I glanced at the door. So, if there was nothing but forest this way, then civilisation must be that way. Well, now I knew which way to head.

I pulled myself back up to the window and started pushing at lock on the window, again thanking my lucky stars there was no fly screen. After a few minutes of fidgeting and pushing, the stubborn lock conceded defeat and opened. Shooting the hinges of the window a wary glance, I cautiously pushed the window open. I flinched as it screeched open and thudded to a stop at a slant. Holding my breath I waited for the tell tale signs of being discovered. Nothing happened. I released a shaky breath and contemplated the scene in front of me. Well, this was going to be awkward.

Quickly lifting a paw, I grabbed onto the window and used it to lift myself further up, pushing down on the chair. Almost instantly, my muscles began to protest vehemently against the exercise. Cursing my many years of inactivity, I vowed to be more active if I got out of this alive.

Then, two things happened at once. In a desperate attempt to, at least, get the first half of my body onto the window I recklessly pushed down too hard on the chair. And while it did allow me to propel half of me onto the window, it also resulted in the chair toppling off my makeshift mountain, leading to a colossal bang. Or at least, it felt like a colossal bang.

I froze as I heard the distant sound of a light switch being flicked on. Oh, crap. Scrambling, I extracted my claws and desperately clawed my other end up the wall, throwing caution to the wind. Slowly I dragged my body over the window sill onto and out of the window, and after a few minutes I found myself in the clearing.