Escaping The Hell House

CHAPTER ONE

Elara clawed her way up from the basement one step at a time.

Each movement felt like punishment. Her legs trembled violently beneath her weight, one foot dragging uselessly behind her as she leaned heavily against the cold stone wall for support.

"Dear Lord, help me!"

Her face was swollen beyond recognition, bruises blooming in sickening shades of purple and blue.

Her lips were cracked and bleeding, her throat so dry it burned with every breath.

Blood stained her torn clothes, making them stiff and dark where they had dried.

She looked like a ghost.

A broken thing dragged back from the edge of death.

And yet... her eyes burned.

There was something ferocious in them, something that refused to be extinguished. A single, relentless thought kept her moving.

"I have to leave."

She had been locked in that basement for more than a week with no food or water.

Only the cold, cracked floor beneath her body and the darkness pressing in from all sides.

The man she was supposed to call her husband would come when it suited him. He never spoke or hesitated.

He just took what he wanted, then beat her until she could no longer scream after insulting her.

Afterward, he would leave her there, curled on the floor, shaking, and bleeding, before locking the door again.

Her adopted parents weren’t any better.

The people who were supposed to be the pillars of her life came only to remind her of her worthlessness.

They taunted her. Slapped her. Looked at her with disgust, as though her suffering were repayment for sins she had never committed. Then they would leave.

And the darkness would swallow her again.

Elara didn’t know where the strength came from, only that if she stayed down there another hour, she would die. They wouldn’t even have to kill her. Her body was already failing.

So she climbed. Her fingers slipped on the railing as she reached the final step, her vision swimming.

The door stood before her, the one that separated the basement from the rest of the house. Freedom... Or death.

She pressed her forehead against the wood and prayed with everything she had left.

"Please… let it be unlocked." Her hand closed around the doorknob. Then... She turned it. The door opened.

For a heartbeat, Elara didn’t move. Hope crashed into her so violently that it almost knocked her to her knees.

She stumbled forward, collapsing against the edge of the living room wall, the warm light blinding after a week of darkness.

She had made it out. Thank God!

A sharp gasp cut through the silence.

Two maids stood frozen near the center of the room, staring at her in horror.

One of them let out a shriek, the flower vase slipping from her hands and shattering loudly against the floor.

The sound echoed through the house like a gunshot.

Elara flinched, fear seizing her chest. She forced herself upright, swaying as she looked at them, her lips trembling.

“Please…” she whispered. “Water… please.”

The words barely made it past her throat.

One of the maids hesitated, her face pale with terror. They both knew what would happen if their masters found out they had helped her. They knew the price of defiance in this house.

But looking at Elara... broken, starving, barely standing, their resolve crumbled.

Tears spilled freely down their faces. They could see how monstrous the Vaughn family was. How could they do that to their own family member?

The younger maid rushed to the kitchen and returned moments later with food and a glass of water.

"Here! Take!"

Elara’s hands shook violently as she took the glass, draining it greedily, every swallow a small miracle.

However, she pushed the plate away.

“I can’t eat,” she said hoarsely, shaking her head. “If I eat… it means I stay. And if I stay, they’ll come back.” Her voice broke.

“And if they see I left the basement…” Her fingers clenched into the fabric of the sofa. “They’ll kill me.”

The maids sobbed openly now.

Elara dropped to her knees in front of them, ignoring the pain, ignoring her pride.

“Please,” she begged. “Help me escape.”

Her head bowed, forehead touching the floor.

It was the first time she had begged not for mercy, but for life.

Her voice was barely a whisper, shredded by thirst and terror, but the desperation in her eyes was impossible to ignore.

“Please…” she croaked again, her fingers tightening around her dress. “If they come back and see me here… they’ll kill me.”

The words were not dramatic. They were factual.

The two maids... Lina and Yvette... stood frozen in place, tears streaming down their faces.

They had worked in the Vaughn household for years. They had heard things. Seen things. But never like this. Never so close. Never standing in front of them, broken and barely breathing.

“She… she can’t even walk properly,” Lina sobbed, pressing a hand over her mouth.

Yvette shook her head violently, fear battling compassion in her eyes. “If Madam Vaughn finds out...”

“There won’t be time,” Elara whispered, her vision blurring. “Please. I won’t survive another night down there.”

Her body swayed when she tried to stand.

Yvette lunged forward just in time to catch her.

That was the moment their hesitation shattered.

“Get the back door,” Lina said urgently, wiping her tears. “Now.”

Yvette nodded, her hands shaking as she ran toward the servant’s corridor.

Lina slipped off her own cardigan and gently draped it over Elara’s shoulders, trying to cover the bloodstains, the torn fabric, the evidence of everything the house had done to her.

“Lean on me,” Lina whispered. “Just… just don’t make a sound.”

Every step was agony for her.

Elara bit down on her cracked lip to keep from crying out as they half-dragged, half-carried her across the cold marble floor.

The house was too quiet, every little sound felt like a threat. Any second, she expected to hear footsteps, laughter, mocking... His voice!

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.

"Please," she prayed. "Just let me get out."

The back door creaked open as they reached there.

Cold night air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain and freedom.

Yvette returned, clutching a small bag. “There’s some cash,” she whispered hurriedly. “And a phone. It’s old, but it works.”

Elara stared at her, disbelief flooding her exhausted features. “You… you don’t have to...”

“Go,” Lina said firmly, gripping her hands. “Don’t look back, Young Miss. Don’t ever come back.”

Elara’s throat tightened painfully.

She wanted to say thank you. Wanted to say a thousand things. But her strength was gone. With one last look at the house, the walls that had witnessed her suffering, the doors that had locked her away, she turned and staggered into the rainy darkness.

Each step away felt unreal.

The gravel cut into her bare feet, but she welcomed the pain. It reminded her she was still alive... Still moving... Still free.

By the time the mansion disappeared behind the trees, Elara collapsed onto the roadside, her body finally giving out.

She lay there, gasping, staring up at the indifferent rainy night as tears slid silently into her hair, mixed with the rain.

She had escaped. Finally!

But she knew, deep in her bones, that escape was only the beginning.

Because this world was cruel to the weak.

And if she wanted to survive…

She would have to become someone they could never break again.

But how???