Feathers
It's been three days since Chelsea went missing. Desperate, Raven comes to the cops for answers. What she doesn't realize is that she's now in the cross-hairs of a psychopath who's obsessed.
Chelsea doesn't like nightclubs all that much. The loud music, the overpriced drinks, the elitism. It's just not for her. She prefers to be curled up at home, sipping organic tea and reading a good book. Or doing yoga with some of her fellow vegetarians, sharing new recipes. Or maybe, just maybe, go to a jazz club and drink some fancy wine while the band croons smooth hits.
But no; instead she's dragged by her two best friends to Miami for some fun and mischief.
She blames Raven for this; she's the one that initiated the road trip to Miami in the first place. After her fashion line proved a success, she wanted to party the night away in some nice Cuban clubs and expand her network. At least, that's what she says. Chelsea knows good and well it's the weather, food, and exquisite men she's after. She could only roll her eyes as Raven goes on and on about Cuban food mixed with Louisiana traditions.
They are now in some remote nightclub on the outskirts of town, dancing and drinking like there's no tomorrow. That's what Raven and Eddie are doing. Instead Chelsea sits back and enjoys the carnage, monitoring the area for any peculiar activity that could alert a quick retreat. She's seen too many crime shows about reckless mistakes that lead in tragedy; she doesn't want to be another statistic. She checks her friends's drinks for any tampering and throws them out anyway. One can't be too careful. She checks her phone and eyes the crowd for her friends when something in her stops. Something's just not right...
She turns around and notices a handsome man looking at Raven, talking to her. He looks at Chelsea, and ice falls into the pit of her stomach. There's something off about this man. Fearful for Raven's safety, she sneaks into the crowd to listen in on their conversation.
Raven is giggling and happy; she's two drinks away from being plastered and Chelsea knows it.
"So, are you from Miami?" The man asks. Raven twirls her hair and giggles even louder, stumbling over her own two feet.
"No, I'm from 'Frisco," she answers.
"I've been there on one of my doctor conventions. I like the atmosphere. Maybe," he whispers in her ear, and she giggles even louder, wrapping her hands around his neck.
"You're so funny! What's your name again?"
"My name isn't important right now, now is it, Raven?"
It's time to go.
"Raven!" Chelsea cuts in, grabbing Raven's arm and eyeing the stranger.
"I've been looking all over the club for you!" Her eyes lock onto the man.
"Sorry to cut your conversation short, sir. But we have to leave." With an artificial smile, she drags Raven back into the sea of the crowd, not hearing Raven's cries of displeasure.
"What's wrong with you? That man is fine!" Raven whines.
"Just because he's fine doesn't mean he's not dangerous. I don't trust him, Rae." She looks back at the man. He looks back at her, smiling and waving. It would look non-threatening if it weren't for the night-lights making his shadows look sinister.
"If it weren't for me, you could've wound up in a bathtub with a missing kidney. Or worse." she adds gravely. Either Raven is too drunk to protest of she doesn't have a witty comeback, it remains unclear; she goes with Chelsea, silent and complacent, to find Eddie. Eddie was busy slurping champagne off a stranger's breasts when Chelsea grabs him by the ear and drags him out of the nightclub.
"Get both your asses in the car. I'm driving."
-0*0*0*0*0*0*0-
The next morning Chelsea tucks in Raven and Eddie, who are busy nursing their hangovers, before heading out of their hotel for a quick grocery run. She grabber her keys, checks her phone, sent out texts about her whereabouts. One simply can't be too careful. She unlocks her car and sits in the passenger side, ready to start the car when she sees a man in her backseat.
Before she could react, she's pinned to her seat by the man's arm and has a knife pressed firmly to her cheek.
"Don't move, don't scream, and you do exactly as I say," he says in her ear. It sounds eerily familiar...
Chelsea nods, the knots twisting in her stomach. She has a can of mace in her glove department; if she can reach for it she might be able to save herself.
"Don't try anything, Chelsea."
He knows her name.
He knows what she's going to do.
She obeys his commands, and eases back into the seat slowly, hoping that this could be a quick robbery.
"Clasp your seat-belt. Wouldn't want you to get hurt, now would we, Chelsea?"
She nods.
"Turn the key into ignition and drive."
She mutters a silent prayer before driving down the road. Wherever this man wants her to go, she knows it ill be her final destination.
How could she have been so careless?
