Turn for the Worst

Chapter 63

It's finally time! Thank you for your patience and support. Warning, this chapter is going to be a little gruesome.

Emma is standing in the kitchen, watching, and waiting. The damn snow was preventing her plan... her plan to finally escape the hell she's been put through.

She had it all planned. It wasn't going to be a pleasant experience, and very risky but this might be her only chance. The problem was now that the mounds of snow prevented either of them from going anywhere. Arthur seemed too lazy to try and dig the truck out once the snowstorms had passed and he was merely honest with his boss that he couldn't get to work. Instead, he drank beer on the couch and listened to the crappy radio he stole from the local junkyard. Emma wanted to use the radio to hear about any news. She's been so isolated that World War Three could have broken out and she would have no idea. She also wanted to hear if her family and friends were still looking for her. The last conversation she had with them played over and over in her mind to the point where she basically had memorized it. She kept watching out the window, waiting for the sounds of sirens or helicopters indicating that they finally found her, but as Christmas passed and then the New Year, her hope had faded again. She knew she had to keep hoping and praying that they wouldn't give up on her as she wouldn't give up on them.

After what was most likely two weeks of being buried in the snow to the point where both residents were almost going a little stir crazy, finally, the sun came out and began to melt the snow drifts. Arthur knew he had missed a lot of work and since they were running low on food, he had to go back to the hardware store. With much anticipation, Emma waited with an anxious mind and heart, watching the truck disappear into the woods.

Suddenly, the baby kicked in her stomach, as if noticing the change in her attitude and personality. The little one was becoming a lot more active in the past few weeks, especially when Emma tried to exercise and stay healthy. She'd walk all around the house several times a day, walking up the creaky stairs and across the living room to pace herself and raise her heart rate. Her stomach was growing a little bit larger with each passing day, which was slightly reassuring that the baby was healthy and getting enough nutrition. It had been so long since Emma had been pregnant that she actually forgot how uncomfortable it was, but also how precious experience it was too. The little life inside her would kick and react to her movements, making the forced mother-to-be feel less alone and maybe even a bit happy.

But it is from this tiny child that Emma knew what she had to do next...

...

She went about the same routine for most of the day; pretending to clean and getting herself some lunch. Just as it started to get dark, Emma knew he would be home soon and it was time to put her plan into action.

She takes a kitchen knife from one of the drawers, her hand shaking slightly from what she's going to have to do. The baby reacted.

"I'm doing this for you," she whispers.

She then held out her left hand, and slowly but surely, cut her flesh.

Blood immediately began to flow through her hand, it didn't hurt so much, but the smell of blood made her slightly nauseous, most likely because it reminded her of a case she had a few years back where one of her charges tried to commit suicide by cutting their wrists and Emma was forced to kick the door down and try and stop the bleeding until an ambulance arrived. By the end of it, both she and the victim were covered in blood so much so that Emma took three showers until she felt completely clean. She then had to throw out her clothes, which were stained beyond belief and she spent the next day in bed, trying to recover from the smell and the experience.

Emma squeezes her hand to make droplets on the floor and then uses one of her feet to make smears. She then walks through the house and up the stairs ensuring that there is a noticeable trail of blood through the cabin.

Once she reaches the bathroom, she then cuts her other hand to make the bleeding seem more significant. She creates smears on the doorknob, all over the floor and even the mirror. She creates larger puddles to make it look like she was standing for a long time. Emma then smears blood all over her shirt and removes her pants. She squeezes both bloody hands along the inner thighs of the pants and then puts them back on. Now it looks like she might be miscarrying.

She stains a few towels red as well, making it look like she was trying to stop the bleeding. Then she opens the window and drops the bloody knife out into the snow. Fortunately, the knife falls into a deep snow drift and cannot be seen at all. She then shuts the window and wraps a clean towel around both her hands to stop the bleeding. It doesn't take very long, but soon Emma knows she's made the perfect escape plan. Arthur wanted nothing more than this baby and if it looked like she was miscarrying, he'd do anything to try and save her, including taking her to the hospital.

The final step was to wait for the car to pull up and then start crying and moaning. It wouldn't be very hard to fake crying, but she had to really convince her captor that she was in agony and that she would have to go to the hospital; there was not another option.

She practiced a few moans, choosing the right one that made her seem like she was in an inordinate amount of pain, all her emotions of the past few months needed to be put into this performance.

Emma prepares herself, waiting until in the distance there is the sound of an engine. Emma's heart beats in anticipation. She smears her hands in some of the blood to mask the intentional cuts, starts to cry.

She waits as his boots crunch underneath the snow.

Closer...and closer...

The back door opens and she then cries out his name.

"ARTHUR?!"

Stay tuned for tomorrow!