26
Layla’s P. O. V.
I woke up the third day with still no sight of Logan. At this point I was fully aware that he wasn’t anywhere near this house. I needed to find ways to get out of here.
If he was out of the house for this long and I’m quick enough, I could find a way to get the hell out of here before he even came back. I’m not going to sit around and wait for him to catch me again.
I decided to dress up in a skinny blue jeans with a sea blue button down shirt. I pulled up my hair into a ponytail, feeling like Hayley from the originals at the time Klaus Michaelson held her captive in his house because she carried his precious miracle child in her belly. I carefully went down the stairs, taking light steps, eyes darting around for his men but none was in sight.
I stepped into the sitting room and closed in on the glass walls. I peered out and tried to see past the gardens surrounding the property, up to the gate that I barely saw it’s root. Not a single person outside. Where did everybody go?
I stopped to check if there were security cameras on the ceilings but non that I could see. Was Logan just dumb or did he underestimate my ability to actually escape from this place after all his warnings?
I slowly walked to the other side of the wall, the side of the house closer to the backyard which I couldn’t see from here and narrowed my eyes through the braches and rambling flowers at the far end. The rambling plants weaves itself up the black bar fence at the far end of the property and as I looked closely, I could see a blackened hole that looked like there’s actually a passage there that could actually lead to this fence where I could jump over.
I gently placed my hands on the thick glass walls and tried to feel it’s thickness. It was extremely thick, I guess a bullet wouldn’t even penetrate it.
I hurried over to the table and drew it’s drawers out, rummaging through it for something I clearly didn’t know. I didn’t know what the heck I was looking for but I was just feeling this surge of energy and I just wanna do something, anything.
The first drawer is nearly empty safe for a TV remote control. On the second draw was a picture frame laid face down on the dusty space. I picked it up, interest lacing my senses as I turned it over to find the image of a boy in white and black ink paint. A boy who didn’t seem to be older than six. A boy who shared a lot of things with Logan DeAngelo.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
They shared the same one sided simple, the same sharp chin, the same small eyes that barely seemed visible on this picture as he smiled widely. Even though the picture was black and white, it was easy to see the blackness and thickness of his hair. He looked beautiful in this picture.
So innocent.
But he’d grown up to be a monster. I wondered who his mother was. If she was still out there seeing all his son was doing, or if she was just like him. I wanted to know so much, my sudden interest surprised me.
Closing my eyes, I placed the frame back on the draw and proceeded to the next one. Pulling it open, I was met with a bundle of keys. I didn’t know why a key was here because I knew every door in this house used a key slot or passcode intercoms right next to the doors. Without a second thought, I grabbed and mould it up into my palm and pushed it inside my jean pockets. I stepped away from the sharp corner the kitchen shared with a slim hallway that lead to some other hidden rooms. I’d never passed here before. I wanted to see what was over there, if there was a means of escape there.
I took slow paces towards it, hopefully expecting to see some door that this key could actually fit into.
As soon as I stepped into this hallway, the lightening gets dimmer and I passed a few windows and doors. They all didn’t seem to be doors which lead to the outside. They were all just rooms. Plus they all didn’t use this type of Keys too.
I came across a door at the very last end at the sharp corner to my left hand. The door is wooden and old and very oddly enough, the key fit into the hole perfectly. It creaked as I slowly pushed it open, making sure I didn’t leave much sound. After pushing the door back, I came face to face with old stairs that led down into what looked like a basement. an old, dark basement. My stomach filled up instantly as an eerie feeling swept over me, making me nauseous. I wanted to throw up.
Clutching my stomach, I stepped into the first stair and watched my feet take me down. the room is very dimly lit, and old, it was impossible to think a room like this existed in this huge mansion.
I looked around, through the old tables and TVs and chairs that sat in there to find a small door at the east side, small enough to crawl through on all fours. My stomach filled with pain and joy as I realized that the door led to the outside. I quickly sat down on the dirty floor and stretched out my legs to the door, pushing it. I was surprised when the bar door pushed open, green grasses protruding from the outside into the house.
A rush of air hit my face. Air if freedom.
But I didn’t move for a long minute. My eyes strained into the distance, lost in my own thoughts. Thoughts on all Logan’s threats.