Trapped

Chapter one: Taken

The phone rang over and over again. The same ring tone over and over again. Alli was getting worried. It wasn't often that the Dutchman didn't answer his call. He hadn't heard anything from him in days. Lars had called the night he gotten home, Allistair had to work for the next three days. But he had texted him in the morning and got not answer. Throughout the day he would send him a message here and there, but now it had been three days with no answer. The red head huffed and slammed the phone down again. He grabbed his hair and leaned forward, closing his eyes. Where the fuck was he?! His mind ran wild with possibilities. Could he be hurt? Did something happen and he had to leave his phone home?

I have died every day waiting for you, darling don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more.

The Scot jumped at the ring tone blaring on his phone. Finally! Lars had called him back. He grabbed the phone and answered it. "Lars?! Fer fock's sake where were ya?" The other side of the line was silent beside a light crackling noise that made Alli's heart almost stop. "Lars?"

"Alba. How are you?"

In the moment he heard the noise his whole body tensed. No way. Why did he have Lars' phone. "Wot do ye want? Where's Lars?"

"Pfft. So rude. We have unfinished business Alba. You know what I'm talking about. So I have taken your well. What is he too you Allistair? Lover? Fling? A toy? Hmm?"

The redhead gritted his teeth together and took a deep breath trying to stay calm. "'e mah everything." He said in a barely audible whisper. There was a silent pause on the other side as the man waited for the answer. With a groan the Scot laid his head in his hand. "He's my boyfriend."

"That's what I thought. Well I love the fact that you two are countries, it means we can kill him over and over again and we don't have to worry. What fun torture is."

The Scot gave the voice on the phone a disgusted face. " Wot do ye really want? I mean really? What can I do to make sure tha' he isn't harmed."

"Well it's a little late for that. But I want you. Just you. Come alone, to a place I choose and I'll let him go."

It's a trap!

Alli's brain screamed this over and over again to him. It's a trap! It's a trap! He probably doesn't even have him Alba! Biting his lip and spoke again. "How do Ah know ye even have him?"

"Oh? We want proof, okay I can give you proof."

The man yelled something in Gaelic that Alli couldn't catch and he heard screaming. Green eyes went wide as he heard bones snap and agonizing pleads to stop in Dutch. They had Lars. "Stop! Stop donnae hurt 'im! Ah'll do wotever ye say, jist donnae hurt 'im anymore!" The red head was almost frantic. How could he let something like this happen to Lars! He heard a dark chuckle come from the man's throat on the other side of the phone.

"Good lad. Now then. You are going to go to his home. All alone, with no weapons. If you tell anyone, or show up with a weapon, we'll slit his throat. Got it?"

The red head nodded. "A-Aye, Ah got et. Jist donnae hurt 'im anymore." In the background there was yelling. More in Dutch. It was hard to understand but then Lars screamed in English.

"It's a trap Alli! Stay away!"

"Lars!" The phone clicked and the Scot gasped. "Oh no…" He looked at the phone praying they wouldn't hurt him anymore. He prayed that Lars knew enough to keep his mouth shut. Probably not. Grabbing his leather coat, he pulled it on and ran into the garage. He shoved his helmet on his head and kick started the bike. His phone in his pocket. He took off to where he was instructed to be.

A sharp boot slammed into the Dutch man's chest. There was another crack as a rib busted from the contact of the steel toe. The blond gasped and looked a with a defiant glare. "Idiot! Do you think telling him it's a trap is going to stop him? I would think as long as you two had been together you would know how stubborn he is by now." The bloodied blond only glared. He didn't say anything to him, silently fearing another blow. The other man leaned down. Long blond hair tied back away from his face.

"Dear half-brother. Don't try to be a hero." Francis gave him an evil smirk and pulled back away from him. "Lock him up! If you hear one word break a bone." The Frenchman turned on his heel and left the room. Lars brows furrowed as he hoped Alli would listen to him. In his heart he knew he was already on his way.