((This solo contains some graphic violence.))

Veronica awoke, handcuffs linked around a dirty bathtub handlebar in what appeared to be some kind of slumlord apartment unit. The city was too quiet for any populated area – she must be in the abandoned district, she determined, or they were soundproofing the area. She was gagged in the dry empty tub, her dress torn and bloodied from her stab wound, her stilettos kicked off at the end of the tub.

She tried to fight to break her free, but all that did was rattle the chains and draw the attention of the men guarding the room.

“You go check on the b***h. I’ve had enough of her,” one voice said. The other voice grunted. No other voices – it seemed to be a two-man job. Piecing together the scenery was all she could do to make herself feel calm.

The bathroom door opened as a dirty older man crept in, hovering over her in the tub. Her reached down to her – slowly gripping at the gag cloth from her lips.

“Are you going to stay quiet?” he asked, revealing a knife. “Or do I need to teach you a lesson about what happens to little girls who scream?”

She wanted to puke as she nodded. He removed the gag as she did everything in her willpower to stay silent, deny the scream within her that was begging to burst out.

“It will all be over soon, girlie,” he disgusted her. “Soon enough we’ll collect our reward and then we’ll be done with you. I give it four days. One day for you to be officially declared missing. Two days for them to receive our ransom notice. Three days before they ask for proof of life. Four days before we collect. And then we can get rid of you for good.”

His smirk at the end froze her. She wasn’t going to make it out of this alive. Not if their plan had its way.

She tried to release a scream, but before she could even start, his elbow slammed into her face, her head hitting the tile walls and – blackout.

Hours passed before she regained consciousness again. This time, she didn’t move a muscle, keeping still as to not call attention. It was dark, but there was just enough light streaming into the room to spot a potential sign of self-rescue. The tub handlebar she had been cuffed to seemed loose on the far end – and if she could loosen it at this end as well…

She slowly positioned her hands to the screws to the wall holding her captive. Using the tip of her nail, she tried to gently rotate the screw out of position. She was almost managing to succeed when – snap – one finely manicured nail broken. Front teeth lodged into her bottom lip to seal the pain within as she tried again with another finger, rotating until the screw fell loose enough to pull out. She toyed with it, but it slipped from her fingers and fell to the bottom of the tub with a soft clang.

“She’s awake again,” said the first voice.

The door reopened as the older man returned – she swiftly returned to a resting position, as if just waking up. “Welcome back, sweetheart.”

“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, lowering himself down to the tub. “I heard you were some kinda cheerleader when you were younger? Miss popular good-girl. Must be a lot people wondering where you are now.”

He placed a hand on her knee as he leaned further into the tub. “You got a boyfriend, babe?”

Her body turned to ice as she shook her head no.

“You know the sexiest thing about a cheerleader?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Oh, what do you think it is?”

“We’re flexible,” she responded cooly. She rose a leg into the air and slammed down onto his neck. She wrapped her legs around his neck and tightened in, choking him before releasing, sending a knee flying into his face and knocking him back.

“WHAT THE ******** WAS THAT?” the first voice called from outside.

She hurriedly kicked out her feet, slipping on one of her white Jimmy Choo stilettos left stranded at the end of the tub and pulled her foot back before launching it into the creeper’s head, the sharp point of the heel breaking into his skull. She continued to kick, nailing the heel further in his skull pounding against the bathroom wall – her pearly white shoes reddened by the blood pouring out into the tub. The noises that started as pounding swiftly changed to cracking and then to squishing.

The other guard burst into the room and shot fire – a bullet missing her face by inches as she laid flat into the tub to hide. Another bullet fired – this one hitting the end of the tub’s rail, setting it free on one side. She wrestled and pulled at the cuffs, trying to break the bar free as another bullet fired, ricocheting just past her. Another bullet fired just as the rail came fully loose and fell onto her.

She cried in pain briefly and went to silence as the guard crept closer to inspect her – but instead of finding a weakened girl, all he could see coming was the metal railing swing towards his head like a club. She continued to beat him with the bar until she was sure both of her captors were out cold. She climbed out of the tub frantic, her white designer outfit now scarlet in blood – both hers and theirs – her hair and makeup a wreck and two deaths in her wake.

She stood in the bathroom, gasping and panting for a breath to make sense of it all.

And just when things couldn’t get any stranger…

“Oh dear,” said a soft voice. It belonged to a small cat in a hat. "It seems I am too late."