#12 The Triplets of Emerald Forest

Harlow

A few minutes passed while I listened for any signs of noise outside the door. Hearing none, I rushed over to the door and tried my luck. The door knob twisted freely and the door swung open. I was greeted by a living room type space with several more doors all around the perimeter. I started randomly trying doors. Three of them led to large bedrooms that each had a unique style to them. One was decorated in dark navy blue, one in tones of green, and the third in shades of maroon and red.

I grumbled in frustration and tried another door, grinning when I was met with a new sight. It was a short, empty hallway. Down one side was another door and to my right were what appeared to be another living room and a small kitchen. To my utmost satisfaction, off in the corner were the sliding doors of an elevator.

“Luna!” I heard a voice call out from behind me.

I didn’t dare to turn around, I just ran towards the elevator and pushed the only button available, a down arrow. I would have taken the stairs if I could’ve found any.

“Wait!” The male voice said and I started shaking when I realized he was moving closer.

Just as the elevator doors opened, a rough hand wrapped around my arm and kept me from moving. I yelped and tried to pull away, but it was no use. Whipping around, I came face to face with my captor. He looked to be older than me by quite a few years with light brown hair and hazel eyes that were more brown than green.

“My apologies, Luna, but you can’t leave.” He frowned, looking at his hand around my arm.

“That is not my name.” I snapped, finally ripping my arm free but only after the elevator doors had closed.

The man put his hand on my back and gently nudged me forward. I knew I had no choice but to let him lead me back to my jail cell.

“I’m sorry, it’s Harlow, right?” The man asked. I grunted in response, “I’m Waylon Greene.” He introduced himself. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

Greene was Kori’s last name, I thought to myself.

“You met my ma….wife, Kori, earlier.”

I remained silent as Waylon guided me back through my escape route and into the bedroom. I hurried across the room so I could be as far away from him as possible.

“The girls said they were going to get you food. They’ll be back soon. Do you want me to sit with you until they come back?” He asked and I continued to glare at him.

“I guess not. Well, I will be just out here in case you get any ideas about going for another walk.” He smirked at me but I wasn’t amused.

“Oookay then.” He mumbled before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. This time, I heard the lock slide home.

I started pacing around the room, investigating the other components of it. Off to the side of the room was an alcove that was set up as a sitting room with a small sectional, an oversized chair, a coffee table, and a TV mounted on the wall. Between that and the bed were a set of french doors that led out to a Juliete balcony.

I tried the u-shaped handles and pulled the doors open. Stepping out onto the balcony, I looked over the black iron railing; it appeared to be about three or four stories up and there was nothing but hard grass down below. Looking around, I noticed that nobody was paying any attention to me. I could call out, but I doubt that would do me any good. I backed into the room and shut the doors.

On the other side of the room, across from the bed, were three doors. I yanked open the first door and saw an ungodly huge bathroom. I mean seriously, you could fit my entire apartment in just the shower.

The shower was made of white marble looking tile and had a glass door. There were two shower heads plus a rain shower head in the middle and some complex looking control panel on the wall. There was a vanity that stretched the entire length of one wall with three sinks, counter space for days, and it was completely surrounded by drawers and cabinets on either side. On the far end was a linen closet and a toilet room.

Why on earth did someone need three sinks?

I exited the bathroom and checked out the other two doors. Both led to humongous walk in closets with sophisticated looking built-ins. I wasn’t sure how one person, or even a couple, could be expected to fill up all of this closet space. In one of the closets I noticed familiar looking clothes already on hangers and folded in drawers. I backed out of the closet and slammed the door closed, frustrated about this entire situation.

Annie and Kori came back with a trolly cart filled with food. I was skeptical about eating anything at first, afraid of being drugged or sedated again, but my stomach growling won out. At home, I didn’t eat like I should have considering I didn’t have the money to spend on a meal plan at the university or nutritious groceries, instead I mostly lived on frozen pizzas and mac n cheese. I had never tasted food so fresh and well prepared in my entire life.

“We really are sorry about all of this, Harlow.” Annie sighed.

“Who broke into my house and stole my clothing?” I asked with a glare.

“That would be the four of us.” Annie replied, looking guilty.

Kori suddenly jerked up and her eyes went black. I stared at her with a puzzled expression, wondering what the heck was going on. She shook her head and her face returned to normal.

“The boys are wondering if they could come in.” She asked.

“No! I don’t want to see them.” I cried out.

I wasn’t even going to ask how she knew that since she never even pulled out her cellphone. All I knew was that I didn’t want a man, let alone three men, anywhere near me and a bed.

Annie and Kori shared a sigh.

“Okay, I’ll tell them you aren’t ready today.” Kori nodded.

“Is there anything we can get for you?” Annie asked and I just stared at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Look, if you need anything, Waylon will be out in the living room all night.” Kori said as she pushed the now nearly empty trolly towards the door.

“Oh yes, what a kind prison warden I have.” I grumbled.

“Get some sleep, Harlow, and we’ll see you in the morning.” Kori ignored my comment against her husband and they both left the room.

That’s when I got to work on my new escape plan.

I dug through the linen cabinet and large cedar chest at the foot of the bed, grabbing every blanket, sheet, and towel I could find. Aftering pulling the sheets and comforter from the bed, I tied everything together to make a rope. I stuffed the rope underneath the bed in case someone came in, then I went into the closet to see which of my clothes they had stolen. I found a fresh pair of jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a pair of sneakers to change into. It was April in Virginia, so the sun was warm during the day but the nights were still chilly and it often rained, leaving everything damp.

I pulled my hair up into a high messy bun so it was out of my way and opened the balcony doors. I watched carefully as the outside became less and less crowded until, eventually, it was deathly quiet. I waited an extra hour to make sure that everyone was inside and asleep. It was almost midnight by the time I pulled my makeshift rope out from under the bed and tied it to the balcony railing. I tossed the mass of blankets and towels over the side. It stopped a few feet above the ground but was plenty long enough for me to climb down.

I tugged as hard as I coud on the blanket that was tied around the railing to make sure that it was secure. Once I was satisfied, I climbed over the railing hesitantly. Hindsight being 20/20, I wasn’t too sure about this plan, but it was all I had. I propped myself up on the edge of the balcony by bracing my feet against it and clutched the rope for dear life. Taking one last breath, possibly forever, I dropped my feet from the balcony and started climbing down the rope.

I gasped and held in a scream as the rope gave way slightly. Freezing on my descent, I waited for the fabric to settle before I continued to climb down. I started moving a little quicker, figuring that I would rather be as close to the ground as possible if and when the rope gave out. I knew the second one of the knots failed by the sudden release of pressure and then I was falling. I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t scream and thanked my lucky stars when I hit the ground only 5 or 6 feet later.

Don’t get me wrong, it still hurt like hell. I groaned and rolled to the side, my back throbbing painfully.

“Fuck me.” I cursed, trying to catch my breath. All of the wind had been knocked out of my lungs on impact.

I pulled myself into a sitting position and looked around. Thankfully, I didn’t catch anyone’s attention. Despite the pain, I jumped up and took off towards the trees. I had no idea where I was or where I was going, but I figured I had a better chance of staying hidden in the cover of the forest. I winced as my feet crunched loudly over sticks and dried leaves, but I had no choice but to continue on.

I ran until I was breathless and couldn’t run anymore. I continued walking through the trees, trying to ignore the animalist sounds that had me shaking to the core. That was, until what sounded like a bone snapping had me jumping out of my skin. I whipped around and heard a low, dangerous sounding growl echoing through the trees.

That’s when three familiar looking wolves stalked out of the darkness. They had green eyes and fur that was white and gray, just like the three wolves from my dream. The one in the middle looked the angriest, one seemed to have a fearful expression, and the third just looked sad. I had no idea how I could name the emotions of a wolf, but, looking into their eyes, it was crystal clear.

“Harlow.” I turned my back on the wolves and saw Waylon standing behind me, shaking his head, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Something about the way he said that had me shaking, but not from the cold. Panic washed over me and I felt myself beginning to pale. Waylon scurried forward like he could sense my fear,

“I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe. You just need to go back inside and never try something like this again.” Waylon urged me, grabbing my arms. I noticed that his grip was rough but not painful.

“I won’t go!” I shouted, thrashing side to side and screaming.

“I’m sorry, Harlow.” Waylon looked unphased at my struggle but upset with my emotional reaction. He pulled something from his pocket and I recognized it immediately.

“No!” I shrieked but it was too late. He stabbed the needle into my neck and I was unconscious again.