I shall turn you off by saying this is my first multi-chaptered fic. Yeahyeah
I'm new to owning an account here so bear with me, please.
Disclaimer: I just had an idea. I worked on the idea. Vocaloid is not mine. I cry myself to sleep because I don't.
She was awake. But why is it still dark? Why are her eyelids heavy? Why can't she open her eyes? Is this a nightmare?
She had nightmares on some nights. Nothing big but they are still scary. They still feel scary.
If she was a chick from a movie, she would immediately ask for help from the ever-reliable knight in shining armour. She would contact him. She would run into his strong arms and cry her fears away. Her nightmare would most probably be losing him or be left broken-hearted. The male lead would just shush her and tell her everything was going to be alright in his warm embrace.
It was sweet. But it was yucky.
That romantic drama stuff was not her.
It was overrated. Overused. It was everywhere: films, teledramas, movies, music videos, role plays...everywhere! It felt like being fed the same fish every day.
Of course, romance was every female's desire. But she wanted hers to be...different. Not cheesy different. She still hasn't figured out how it should be but that it was just different different.
Another thing why she is not a chick from a movie is because of her nightmares. Her nightmares were not scary dreams. Her nightmares would be feeling awake but her body was dead. Conscious but she would not – could not move her body. She could not move her fingers. She could not speak nor yell nor let out a cry. She was immobile. She could not open her eyes, even though she can somehow feel and somehow see her surroundings (that was her dark room most of the time because that's where she sleeps, duh). In short, she gets lucid dreams.
She would feel sleepy in the nightmare. She would not sleep because she had a bad feeling about it – like she would fall in a deep sleep and never snap out of it. She would also feel something really heavy draped on her prohibiting movements. That drape was pushing her to close her eyes, to fall in its trap.
She would fight, of course. Try to wake up. Try to move. Try to scream.
But later on, she would calm down and do the least expected solution – submit to the sleep spell.
Then, she would wake up. Panting. Heart pounding. Alone and scared. Wanting to look in the dark and wanting not to – afraid of the imaginary demons that might form out of thin air. Then her rational mind would work and she would calm herself down, pray, then go back to sleep.
She knew she was lucid dreaming right now. But something was off. She felt calmer. She wasn't feeling the sleepiness. Only one way to find out:
She tried to open her eyes. She can't.
She tried to move. She can't.
She tried to scream with her mouth closed. She heard herself...
She heard herself!
This did not happen before. Her stomach felt hollow. This did not happen before. She thought about this before: what if the dream – the nightmare – is different from the usual. She dwelled on these kinds of scenarios before but she didn't think give it much thought since it didn't happen. What now?
She tried feeling her position. She was sitting on a chair. The restraints on her didn't feel like the heavy drape in her dreams. She was seeing black, the black when your eyes are closed. She was blindfolded. Her restraints felt like rope. How long was she gone? Where was she? Is her family looking for her? They must be so worried...
What is happening to her?
Her mind suddenly went on going on about the worst possible occurrences. About living a nightmare. About being a prisoner to a monster. About being surrounded by hungry demons. About being kidnapped by a devil who fancied her–
Whoa right there!
She told herself she was assuming things because she was in panic. Panicking was not going to help her case. She willed herself to calm down. Deep breaths...deep breaths...
She needed to know what situation she was in as it was obviously not a nightmare. This was real...
The thought hit her like a bullet. This was real.
She was bound to a chair, blindfolded, mouth covered...in other words, kidnapped.
How will she find a way out? Sight was out of the question. Touching was also out since she could not move. Tasting would be ridiculous. Smelling stuff was useless. She relied on her sense of sound.
She heard little to nothing but she identified it as a murmur. She strained to listen...
"Yes...just...in...no...unconscious...dangerous... our cover..."
She felt hope but quickly squashed it down. She thought he/she might help her but the odds are that he/she was the one who took her. But screaming wouldn't hurt. So she screamed again, the best scream she can with her mouth gagged.
She heard a...door... swing open and heard someone speak. The voice was male: human – thank goodness. At least she could sue.
"She's awake, sir."
Oh, that voice. Whoever he is, she would hate him with all she can. She won't let fear conquer her. She would be brave and prepared for anything that would happen. When she gets out of here, she would kill him in the most painful way. Meanwhile, she cursed the owner of the voice inside her head.
She lost track of time cursing inside her head when she heard another voice.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"
A loud voice. Obviously male. A bit screechy but it was probably because of his...screech.
The screech-er yelled again. "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?! DO YOU WANT HER TO ACCUSE US OF KIDNAPPING?!" Ah, so she was kidnapped. She tuned out the words and focused on thinking again, since the words were dripping with dirtiness.
She was kidnapped, yes. Don't panic. Now is the right time to be bad-ass.
She has to get out of here. It seemed impossible in her current state. But she would not give up hope. She would get out. Her heart was still racing and her knees felt weak, but she was determined to escape when an opportunity opens up.
Her fighting skills were...err... Let's just say she watched movies every now and then.
How did she get into this situation anyway?
She was just replaying the events when she heard an exasperated sigh and a "Take off her fucking blindfold." She felt a tug at the back of her head and the black slowly faded.
She blinked several times to clear the after effects of the eye-restraint. After her eyes recovered, she scrutinized her surroundings and almost fell backwards on her chair.
The room she is in cried richness and luxury and splendour. She sat bound by a rope on a red plush chair. The wallpaper was lovely and neutral. The furniture around – the queen-sized bed; a wooden closet; the vanity next to the, what she assumed, was the bathroom door – informed her that this was a bedroom, a guest bedroom. Or this could be a fancy secret dungeon.
However, she was a kidnapped guest.
But from what she gathered, she recalled a: "Do you want her to accuse us of kidnapping?" What was that?
There was a black suited beefy guy on the left just a few steps before the door. There was another guy parallel to the beefy one to her right. There was another man who had black hair, the man closest to her. The black-haired man wore a purple button-down shirt, black pants and black leather shoes (now is not the time to check people's clothes). The said male was also holding a black cloth, which must have been her blindfold.
But what shocked her most was the fuming male behind the black-haired guy. He looked flared up; she supposed he was the one yelling. This guy had a recognizable messy blonde hair and bore that familiar face.
She ogled at the blonde male.
He stared back, still furious.
She tilted her head, trying to identify the blonde (who seemed to be the boss of these guys because of how it looks like).
He squint his striking, aqua eyes at her.
Her eyes widened at recognition.
That face, that handsome face, was the face you would see on the television, on the magazines, on the newspapers. The face his girls love and fainted for. The face cursed by guys who had their girlfriends worshipping him. This face endorsed top brands. The face that would make you not only take a double-take but triple...quadruple...n-tuple...
Miku Hatsune was in the same room as Luke Pandora: famous teen icon.
Her mind was blank. What is going on? How did this happen? She would not have predicted being kidnapped... She would not have predicted being kidnapped by someone famous... She would not have predicted this to happen over a simple, silly, stupid dare!