She groaned as someone tried shaking her awake. She tried rolling over on her side but the surface she was lying on felt so hard and uncomfortable. It sure wasn't her bed or even a crappy couch somewhere. It was way too hard.
"Hey, wake up," a male voice said.
She forced her eyes to open since she didn't know the voice. She stared into a pair of piercing blue eyes. She didn't know this man and he looked kind of crazy. She looked around and realized she was lying on hard, cold concrete.
"Come on, get up," he said.
He placed a hand on her arm and although his touch was gentle, she pushed him away, sat up and backed away from him.
"Relax," he said.
She looked around and realized they were inside a cage. She was inside a cage with a man she didn't know.
"Where the fuck am I?" She shouted. "Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want from me?"
"As much as I appreciate a woman saying fuck just as much as me, I didn't take you anywhere and I don't know where we are. I just woke up and found you next to me," he said.
"Bullshit!" She snorted.
"Believe whatever you want but this cage is locked and we're prisoners in here together so maybe we should try working together to get out of here instead of fighting each other," he said.
He closed in on her and reached a hand down to help her up. She stared at it for a couple of seconds before finally grabbing it and allowing him to pull her up from the cold ground.
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it? I'm Dean, by the way," he said.
"I'm Belle," she said.
"Nice to meet you, Belle. Really it isn't but let's keep it friendly," he said. "Okay, the cage is locked and I have no fucking clue where we are. I can't remember how I got here. Do you remember anything?"
"I was out with my friends. I only drank soda and I left early because I have to get up early to go to work. I remember leaving the bar but I don't remember coming home," she said.
"Me neither. Same story although I drank whiskey. I only had two drinks though. I think we were drugged and kidnapped," he said.
"But why?" She asked.
He wished he knew the answer to that. Before he could say anything, the door to the room they were in opened and a tall man wearing a black trenchcoat walked in.
"Let us out of here, you fucker!" Dean shouted.
The man didn't say anything. He just rolled in a stand with a tv and a dvd player, turned on the tv, pressed play on the dvd player and left the room again. They both stared at the videos of crying people performing sex acts on each other.
"Fuck!" She shouted.
"Couldn't have said it better myself," he said.
"We're not making it out of here alive," she said.
"Come on, vanilla princess, have some hope," he said.
"You don't recognize those people?" She pointed at the tv.
He looked at it again and then shook his head.
"You don't follow the news? Well, Dean, let me fill you in. All those people have turned up dead over the last six months and they've dubbed the killer The Undertaker which probably is the guy in the trenchcoat. They've been trying to find a connection between the couples since they always turn up naked and dead together but they don't seem to actually know each other. At least not what any of their friends and family know of. Seeing we don't know each other either, there's no fucking connection. He just kidnaps random people and puts them together," she said.
He stared at the screen again and then back at her.
"So you're telling me we'll be doing that?" He pointed at the screen.
"No fucking way!" She raged.
"Easy, vanilla princess, although I would undoubtedly rock your world, I don't wanna fuck you on a hard concrete floor," he said.
"You wouldn't rock my world for shit!" She hissed. "And stop calling me that."
"How about we get out of here and I'll prove it to you? I'll even throw in dinner first," he said.
"Seeing we probably won't make it, you're on," she said. "Fuck, I could use my inhaler by now."
"Inhaler?" He asked.
"Asthma," she answered. "Not having an attack right now but it probably will happen and that fucker has my purse where it's in. Or I hope he does."
The door opened again and the man in the trenchcoat walked over to the cage and pushed a bag through the bars before leaving the room again. Dean opened the bag and dropped it on the ground.
"Sextoys," he sighed.
"Ah-ah, no fucking way! I am not doing that shit with you!" She said angrily.
"I doubt he'll give us a choice," he said.
"Well, he can come in here and fuck us himself then. He can't make me," she said.
"I'm really not in the mood for taking a dick up my ass so let's come up with a better plan. Maybe we should just do it. Maybe he'll let us go afterwards," he said.
"Look at the tv, Dean," she pointed at it again. "All those people did it and they still ended up dead. He's not gonna let us go. We're here to fulfill some fucked up fantasy of his and nothing else. We're not getting out alive."
"Then come up with a better plan and do it fast because the show just ended," he said.
They both stared at the black screen knowing their time was about to be up.
"How good are you at acting?" She asked.
"What do you need me to do?" He asked.
They heard footsteps walking towards the door and there wasn't time to come up with a gameplan. She grabbed his hand, threw herself down on the ground and pulled him down on his knees next to her.
"Asthma," she whispered.
The door opened and the man in the trenchcoat came in again, this time with a camera in his hand. Dean quickly grabbed her face and looked worried while she sounded like she was dying.
"Hey! Hey! Come on! Breathe!" He shouted.
He turned his head to look at the man in the trenchcoat.
"Help her, asshole! She's dying!" He shouted.
The man ran out of the room and Dean turned his focus back to her.
"He ran away," he said. "What the fuck do we do now?"
She didn't get to answer since running footsteps came back. The man came running in with her inhaler in his hand. He threw it through the bars and it landed next to Dean.
"Use that," he said.
His voice was dark and cold and even Dean suddenly felt scared. More scared than he had ever been in his life. By the sounds Belle was starting to make, he wasn't so sure anymore if she was still faking it or the sound of the man's voice had made her have a real attack. He grabbed the inhaler and tried putting it to her lips but she fought against him like a person fighting for air often do when they don't realize someone's trying to help them.
"God damn it, help me, asshole!" Dean shouted at the man. "I can't hold her down and use this on her at the same time."
The man hesitated for a second but then he pulled up a key from his pocket. He unlocked the cage and dropped down next to her. He snatched the inhaler from Dean's hand and it was clear that Dean would have to hold her down to keep his hands busy and away from the man.
Dean grabbed her hands and forced them down next to her head. The man leaned forward with the inhaler in his hand. Dean still wasn't sure if it was real or fake but he knew it was their only chance. As soon as the man had the inhaler in front of her lips, Dean threw his elbow up into the man's face with force. He continued to throw fists at him and Belle moved up and joined in. She had been faking it all along or she was fighting through her problems. Either way, she was helping and Dean was happy.
"Get out!" Dean shouted.
The man was down and drooling but he wouldn't be for long. He heard her wheeze and realized she wasn't faking it anymore. He grabbed her inhaler from the floor and handed it to her. She put it to her lips while getting out of the cage. He found the key on the floor that the man had dropped during the battle and ran out of the cage, locking it behind him.
"Are you good?" He looked at her. "Can you breathe?"
"Yeah," she nodded.
"Let's find a phone," he said.
They walked through the place, searching through a couple of rooms until they found their items left on a table. He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed 911, explaining what had happened as good as he could. Meanwhile she dumped down on a chair and just stared ahead. He put the phone down and walked over to sit down on the chair next to her before taking her hand.
"They're on their way. I left the line open for them to trace," he said.
"You should probably keep talking to them," she said.
"I think you need to hear my voice more than the lady on the phone does," he said. "Besides I'm pretty sure she can hear us so no dirty talk."
"As if!" She laughed.
"Maybe next time we meet," he winked.
"Next time?" She shook her head. "There's not gonna be a next time."
"You're backing out on the deal we made back there?" He asked.
She had completely forgotten about that. He smirked at her and she couldn't help but smile back at him.
"Dinner," she said. "No promises of anything else than that."
"It's all good, vanilla princess," he grinned. "I'll sweet talk you out of your dress in no time."
"I'll be wearing pants," she said dryly.
"You do that," he laughed. "Does next Saturday work for you?"
"It's perfect," she smiled.