I gripped the dagger tightly in my hand, all my senses alert.

I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

The sound of heavy chains falling coordinated with the rush of adrenaline through my body.

The door opened. The inebriated man looked in, his eyes lingering over my skimpy clothes.

He immediately bolted the door and soon had me in his grip. He forced me down on the bed, trying to disrobe me.

I deftly took out the concealed knife and thrust it right in his heart, his warm blood splashing on my naked chest.

He couldn't utter a scream.

I pushed him off, searched his pocket for money, grabbed his pistol, and threw open the window.

Putting on my dress, I tied a rope to the bedpost and threw it down. Holding the pistol, I jumped out of the window. Climbing down, I lightly dropping on my feet.

I heard a shout.

Damn! Not the guard!

I turned around and started running, running for life.

I climbed the barbed wire guarding the building, the barbs stabbed my hand and yet I felt no pain. The zeal for freedom, for survival with dignity, surpassed everything.

"Stop," A voice screamed, as a bullet whizzed past me.

I was left with no choice.

I stopped, turned around and fired three shots aimlessly. The commotion died down.

I felt no regrets on killing them. They are beasts who tortured me everyday, using my body in whatever way it pleased them.

At a young age I was sold to the master, in exchange for a meager sum of money. Since then, I've been nothing but his sex-slave, satisfying his lust.

But I just turned 18 and I was determined to take control of my life.

I was still running, breathlessly through the red-light district. Some man on the road tried to block me.

I effortlessly slashed out with my knife, cutting the hand which tried to grope me.

The men were still on my trail as I hid behind buildings, jumped fences and kept running.

I found a manhole on the middle of the road. I lifted up the heavy lid and jumped in. Footsteps were heard above my head.

My heart was beating faster, my blood was boiling. I ran a hand over my wrists, scarred from the chains he had used to bind me when I rebelled.

I remembered all those moments when I was just 11 and he had forced himself on me. The years of painful existence had hardened me.

I silently climbed out of the manhole only to see a policeman standing with a pistol.

Shit!

"You're under arrest for murdering Zakir Malik," he said.

My blood froze.

"Take me to the jail, hang me, for all I care. But don't take me back to that hell," I gritted my teeth.

"Come with me," he grabbed my hand, pushing me into the waiting police vehicle, "We need your help to free the others in the same predicament."

500 words completed.

A/N Written for the #justwriteday contest by justwriteit on the theme Adrenaline Rush.

Hope you guys like it. As usual, it's different from what I generally write.

Thanks KashishBelikov MaryFahey Pipigrin for your support with my previous story.