This was just an idea. It could be more, but I already have a lot of other fics. This was more of a way to force inspiration, but I like it very much and wouldn't mind adding to it occasionally.
Please read, looking for suspense and intensity, if you don't like it I can wrap it up quickly. I guess I was looking for a way to fill the void that was left when Forty Weeks was completed.
WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE!
Enjoy I appreciate your interest!
It felt like her head was about to explode, the blood rushed quickly to her skull and her eyes were forced shut, no matter how much she struggled she couldn't open them. The rope was wound tightly around her already achy ankles, and her feet were thumping angrily for better circulation. Her hair fell around her face, so that she could feel it on her forehead, the sweat causing it to stick to her cheeks and mix with the frustrated tears falling inversely to her hairline. She tried to mask her sobs and sniffles, as a cold chill burst through her body. She gnawed on her bottom lip, consoling herself with reassuring thoughts and hopes of being rescued.
She swallowed, but it was nearly impossible for gravity was working against her. Her nose burned- it was dry wherever she was. She could feel her cellphone pressing against her thigh, but she couldn't grab it, the ropes were bound just as tightly, if not tighter- around her wrists. The blindfold was loose, but impossible to budge unless she began flailing.
Inspector Shannon couldn't hear anything but the pounding in her own ears. But, she could feel nobody was around. Not even Marshall.
"On second thought, you shouldn't go alone." He had said, but she had anyway. And now she was in this mess.
"Blow off, doofus. We've been through this what feels like a million times already." And she had left, and now she realized it had been a mistake.
"I should have listened." She choked, scolding herself under her breath.
The mound in her stomach was heavy and round, pushing on places she had never felt it push before. It was harder to breathe, and even without the normal, upright pressure on her bladder, she still had that familiar urge.
She was hanging upside down. And Marshall wasn't there.
She shuddered as the sounds of her phone worked their way into her already busy ear drums.
And then she cried, cried and heaved, spitting and sputtering for breath.
The smells were musty and gag worthy, she must have been in a basement, she thought.
This was all of her fault. She had done this to herself. She had to start listening to Marshall, even if she didn't want to.
"Jacob Walker, twenty-five years old, flight risk and quite frankly a bit of a scumbag."
"Delia?!" Mary had laughed surprised. "What'd he do to upset you? Kick a kitten?"
"No, Mary." She replied adamantly. "The man is a creep and he's one screw up shy of being kicked out of the program. First, he experimented running a meth lab in his own basement, blew up the house- where his wife and children were staying. It's about a wonder they even made it out alive. Needless to say, he relocated here and hopefully those poor girls are lounging in the Bahamas… Somewhere far away from that bastard.."
"Pregnancy hormones getting to you, Parmalee?" Mary chuckled, patting her playfully on the shoulder and then scoffing. "Don't worry, I can handle him."
"Well, just be careful."
"Yes, Mare. Please be cautious with this one. If it were up to me…" He scratched his head nervously, entering from the depths of his office.
"It is up to you, chief." She winked, with a condescending grin. "But, there's no taming me." She added proudly.
"When it comes to taming you, Inspector it's more than a challenge- but, in all seriousness. Keep your arms at your side, your jacket buttoned and don't provoke him."
"You think a jacket's going to cover this? I'm giant already!"
"Mary. Please…" He implored. "After you rendezvous with Walker, I'll be there in one half an hour." Marshall Mann swiped the hair from her face. "Just wait for me." He shot her a genuine smile.
"Whatever, Chief Mann." She had teased.
Oh you're one of these. He had muttered, letting her in.
She didn't remember anything after that, the drugging, the tying up, and the hanging. Walker knew what he had been doing when he hung her by her feet; they were wrapped thoroughly around her ankles and down her feet. Mary wanted Marshall.
"Did I just hear you correctly?"
"Unless you're deaf." She cringed. "What? You don't agree?" She questioned, Norah on her lap. The two year old bounced happily, unknowing of the conversation and completely innocent.
"I think that's… great." He answered confusedly.
"Marshall, you don't want to?" She had asked, nearly in tears.
Mary had begun screaming, she hadn't even realized, but she was—just screaming. It felt like she was choking on her own breaths, and she began to swing, wanting nothing more than to be unblindfolded and know her surroundings.
A door slammed, and loud shouting was heard over the calls of fear and agony.
Shut the fuck up, bitch!
It wasn't Jake Walker who growled, but another man who moved across the room so that his cologne pushed past her and filled her nostrils. The sobs still escaped her mouth, just not as forcefully and sharply. But, it didn't matter. It had already angered this stranger.
Shut you're fucking trap you pregnant whore! He hollered, smacking her with a blunt object in her chest, causing her to cry out in pain louder than her weeping and her eyes to finally fly open.
"P-p-please! Please not—
STOP talking! Tex, will murder me! The man screeched.
Mary could feel her brow furrow; even upside down the expression must have been quizzical. "Who's T-T-Tex?!" She tried, perhaps in attempt to find her Marshal instinct once more.
SHUT UP!
"O-Okay! But, p-please. Don't hit me ag-again!" She quivered.
She could practically hear him break. His voice softened, still shaky with what seemed to have been unintended rage. I don't wanna hit ya, honey. He replied breathily. I don't think the things he thinks. I'd rather let ya go. I'd rather see ya walk away. He began mumbling and Mary could hear him pacing back and forth.
"Y-you can l-let me g-go. You can let m-me go." She half begged, attempting to repeat herself more convincingly, but failing. "I w-won't let Tex hurt you. I h-have that p-pull. I c-can bring y-you somewhere s-safe." Mary could hear him running his fingers through his hair and his exhalations which were raspy and labored.
Ain't anybody able to hide from Tex. His voice trembled and he gulped. Nobody, I tell ya. He has the feds wrapped around his finger. The last Marshal who fucked with him ended up in this very basement, honey. And he didn't walk up 'dem stair alive. Tex don't fuck around, and he don't let me fuck around. You just keep your mouth shut and I'll make sure Tex don't get a hold of ya and hurt ya too bad. She felt his fingers move her hair to the side, something only Marshall was allowed to do without consequences. You's a pretty one, huh?
Mary shuddered forcefully, her bottom lip no longer in her control as her sobs tried to start up again. As one eked out, she could feel his breath against her face, hot and gut wrenching. I'll try to keep him from ya. But, that's only if ya don't make a peep. Ya hear me?
"Y-yes. I hear you." She gave in, feeling bile in her throat and the force in her stomach piling up harder against her chest fluttering in agitation.
The man caressed her cheek with what had probably been the same object he had struck her with. That's a good girl. I'll take care of ya, and 'dis kid. You jus' keep quiet. And he pressed his giant paw to her stomach. Mary shook, with rage and terror.
She heard his footsteps, creaking up the stairs and the door slam.
The floorboards above her groaned and closer to her feet there was a startled holler. You better not have fucked with her, Jack!
I ain't done nothin', Tex. She was makin' noise so I went down and quieted her a bit.
Quieted her? What the fuck did I tell you?! I told you not to talk to her, I told you to keep your fucking paws off of her! And what the hell did you do!? You went and disobeyed me! Mary heard the smaller footsteps, advancing toward whoever had been near her. And then a slam. I warned you, you fucking buffoon!
The gunshots echoed through her eardrums, and every instinct that had been hammered into her aching brain was gone and she was screaming again, hard and loud. And then she was flailing, shaking and trembling, the feeling in her gut roared with fiery resistance, but she maintained the panic, swinging by her ankles even as the ropes became so tights she could feel the blood running toward her thighs. Mary felt the draft from a window nearby, and the cool air hit her face. She still howled, now in pain as well as alarm. The basement steps creaked for a second time and the intensity of the flutter of her heart increased just so that she gave herself one more final flail. The wall was concrete, damp and sticky and her head struck the brick hard enough for her eyes to shut again underneath the blindfold and added to the darkness, were fireworks. The last things she felt was her body fall limp as an elbow drove into her face.
I hope you enjoyed.
Please review and tell what you think! Continue?
