Power tools strewn across the hallway floor and the whispered curse floated on the air. “Damn it! I’m still off by sixteenth of an inch!”
I remembered what my woodworking instructor had said so many years ago – “Measure twice and cut once.” I watched my captor work from my perch from the opposite end of the hallway. I prayed he would let me go if the hole in the wall was not large enough to contain me.
He turned around picking up the measuring tape walking toward me. I believed there was little I could do to remedy the situation. My hands tied together and secured on a hook above my head. My legs were free and I was just able to stand on the balls of my feet to ease the pressure off my wrists.
My captor was getting closer. He held his head down as he contemplated the measurements on the measuring tape. He muttered to himself that he couldn’t widen the hole further because of the spikes on the support beams. He was closer to me now, looking up too late I kicked him back to the hole impaling him on a spike meant for me.
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