Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against The Wall Novels & Stories

Ankles restrained too, but with just enough slack to shift position. Not careless. But not perfect either. I took a slow breath. Observe first. Move later. I tilted my head slightly, letting my eyes adjust fully to the dim light. The chains weren’t thick industrial ones — they were reinforced, but the links were standard. Strong… but not unbreakable. The ring in the wall? Bolted. Four screws. Slight rust around the edges. My lips pressed together. Interesting. I shifted carefully, testing the range of movement. The chain scraped again, but I controlled the sound this time.

He had the multi-tool out in a flash, the bit clicking into place. Seventy-five seconds. The first screw came out with a soft sigh. The second. Anton stood guard at the base of the stairs, his ears straining for any sound from the gallery above. The looped camera feed bought them time, but it wouldn't mask the sound of the panel coming off, or their escape. Sixty seconds. The third screw dropped into Sabe’s palm. He was working with a controlled, desperate speed, his injured shoulder clearly protesting the precise, sustained pressure. The fourth screw began to turn.

These new build high-rise homes, they certainly cut corners on construction, don’t they? Unable to stop myself – and frankly, not really wanting to – I hurry over to the wall below the vent, desperate to hear. The voices are louder, but no clearer. I curse under my breath and then look around the room, trying to find something I can stand on… But there’s not much. My eyes instantly light on the heavy dresser as my only option and I grab it, wedging my fingers into the tiny gap beneath it left by the short legs. I put all my not-very-substantial weight into pulling it, but it doesn’t move much. I try again, hauling with all my might, and get a few good inches out of it –

Weakness was a luxury I couldn’t afford. My eyes scanned the room. The door was still shut. Heavy. Locked from the outside. But the vent. I stepped toward it carefully. Each step was deliberate, silent. The vent sat low against the wall, rust eating through its edges. The screws were loose. Negligence. Or arrogance. I struggled to climb the metal crates, but even after getting this high, my hands couldn't reach, I had to raise my heels, my fingers started working immediately, twisting the first screw free. My fingers moved to the second screw when I heard footsteps.

I couldn’t see why they would want that. Schneed finished returning the stones to their exact same positions and then moved to the back wall. He slid his hands over the stones until he found the one he was looking for, and slowly teased it out. I was watching him do it and I still couldn’t see how it was possible. I placed my palm flat against the wall I’d come through. I moved my hand around, pushed and tugged — they felt completely solid.

I pressed my finger into the edges of the vent and some parts came off. “Well,” I muttered under my breath. “If ventilation shafts were made for anyone, it's me. My body is small enough to fit through.” “Yeah, that's the spirit,” Syvira said. I turned, spotting a long steel rod beneath one of the tables. Probably a part of an old machine. I held it tightly, twisting it to pry the screws loose. The first twist made my arms ache. The second one sent shock waves down my shoulder. The third one made the screws come loose.

I stared at the large wall before me and panned my head to the side, it was going to take a lot of time to find that valve, but this was our best option at this point. I began tapping my knuckles against the walls at different points and in quick succession. It was sturdy, like it was full and there was no space behind. I moved with the speed of light, to ensure that I would finish in time. I pounded my fist against the various points of my side of the wall till I was done. Everything sounded sturdy. I turned toward Drew and he was done as well; the same look of disappointment was reflected in his eyes. He shook his head gently at me to signify that he was also unlucky.

He rebounded quickly, spinning around to face me with the swiftness of a predator. Without giving him a chance to recover, I lunged forward, shoving him backward. His foot caught on the edge of the top stair, and for a moment, time seemed to slow as he teetered precariously. Then, gravity took hold, and we both tumbled down the stairs in a chaotic blur of limbs and curses.

The secret place was on the backside of the wall of the duchy that was easy for him to climb and sneak in There, he walked slowly near his household until he was already a meter away from their back wall. There he breathed calmly while closing his eyes to envision himself climbing the wall. A few seconds later, he already readied himself and takes his timing as he jumps from the high wall perfectly holding the end of the wall and swaying his body until he landed with his two feet on it

My nerves sat on edge, my entire body aware of where he is as I based my focus on tightening the screw. "What are you doing?" Logan's deep voice slithered down my spine, warming my belly. I had removed my robe, getting warm from the cleaning and DIY, which I now regretted as I was in my slip that I hadn't planned on anyone seeing. There was a bathroom downstairs, which means he had come up here to find— "I'm trying to fix this... damn it." Pain sliced through my hand as the screw popped out. My screwdriver slipped as I tried to grab them. The sharp edges dug into my palm, and the next thing I see is my blood spattered all over the sink.