Warnings: This story will heavily feature kidnapping, violence, rape, and potential character death. If you are underage, or this content doesn't appeal to you, please, please don't read. Reviews are welcome
Chapter 1
"Last play today, guys. Let's get this right!" Beiste shouted from the sidelines.
It was a warm day in late November, and the McKinley High Titans were preparing for the final game of the regular season, the district championship. If they won this game, they would go to the first round of the Ohio Class AAAA championships, something McKinley hadn't done in fifteen years.
Sam Evans lined up under center. He hadn't started a game at quarterback since that night he had listened to Finn and gotten his shoulder dislocated, but he noticed that lately, Beiste had been giving him a lot more snaps in practice. "Any chance I could be getting a start soon?" Sam wondered as he set up. Sam was happy to have started at wide receiver all season. Hell, he was happy to have even made the varsity team, since he was new and only a sophomore. But he missed playing quarterback. He missed leading the team like he knew he could. "Nah, no way she'd take Finn out in the playoffs."
He took the snap and dropped back a few steps, bobbing on his right foot as his long fingers sought the laces. He scanned downfield. His primary was covered, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Puck break away from the defensive back. Drawing back, he fired a strike that hit Puck in stride, and Puck darted the last five yards into the end zone. Sam let out his breath in relief. If there was any chance Beiste was going to start him, that would certainly help. Finn had been fumbling snaps a lot lately.
Puck jogged over and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "That was a hell of a throw dude!" Puck exclaimed. "I bet you were the shit at your old school. Too bad this doofus is in your way," he said, giving Finn a playful shove. Finn gave a grunt, and Sam looked away. He tried to hide his resentment. Finn had been a good friend to him.
After Puck headed off to the locker room, Sam turned to Finn, "Hey, wanna join me on my run today? I was hoping I could ask you some stuff about Quinn." Every day after practice, Sam went for a run around campus and down the back roads of town before hitting the showers. Usually he went for about five miles, sometimes six or seven if he really needed to clear his head. Once in a while Puck would come along with him, but usually the other guys were too exhausted from practice.
"Are you nuts dude?" Finn stopped, his face scrunched up. "I don't get you. We just sweat our asses off for two hours, and you want to work out. You're in better shape than all of us, cut yourself a break!" "So I'll take that as a no?" Sam grinned. "That's a no," Finn responded, turning towards the school. "Maybe next time, then!" Sam called to Finn, now a few yards off. "Ha," Finn snorted, "Probably not, but you can ask. See ya tomorrow bud!"
Sam shrugged and pulled the sweaty practice jersey up over his head. He shucked off the shoulder pads and left them in a pile next to the goal post, where he would retrieve them on his way back. It was still quite warm in Ohio for late November, and the sun shone down through the changing leaves, casting a golden glow over the entire town. Sam looked down over his body, glistening with sweat from practice, and ran a hand over his abs. Maybe Finn didn't care about having a perfect body, but he did. And Quinn did. "Quinn," he sighed, as he started off on a jog.
She liked his blond hair. She liked his abs. She liked his big smile and soft lips. But Sam wasn't convinced that Quinn actually liked him. He had given himself completely over to her, opened his heart and gave it to her in a way that he had never done for a girl other than his mom and his sister. But he couldn't help feeling like she just wasn't that interested. He tried so hard to get close to her, to get her to open up to him and be honest with him. It didn't even have to be sex. "I mean, that would be awesome," Sam grinned to himself, turning onto a trail along the perimeter of campus, bordering the highway, "But even if she would just talk to me. If she would just look at me when I talked to her like she was totally there. I wish she could just be honest with me."
He would say something sweet to her, and her hazel eyes would flit and sparkle, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Then her eyes would turn hard and cold, and she would push him away. When he would try to hold her and get her to tell him what was wrong, she would look away and tell him that he wouldn't understand. He knew she didn't trust boys because of what happened to her last year, but how was he supposed to prove to her that he wasn't like other guys if she never let him try?
Sam missed having an iPod to run with, that way he could just run with the beat instead of having to think so much about all of this, but that was one of the first things he sold when things had gotten hard for his family. Before his guitar. God, his guitar. Sam picked up his pace, pushing his already tired legs and lungs towards their capacity, and left the McKinley campus to start down a silent, wooded road on the outskirts of Lima.
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In a battered, grey Chevy Suburban with tinted windows, four men sat watching the McKinley football team practice from the parking lot. They had driven three and a half hours across state lines to be at practice that day, so they were determined to find something suitable. Of course, if the timing or the circumstances weren't right, it wasn't worth the risk of picking up something that would end up being useless to them. Weeks before they left home this morning, they had searched for the right town. Distance was a factor, but not the primary one. Their location in rural, northern Indiana gave them access to Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, Kentucky, and every so often, Canada, without the hassle off too long a drive. What they really looked for in the right town was size (small enough that the kids weren't savvy city-slickers but large enough that everyone didn't know each other), above average crime rate (an occupied police department that was used to kids running off to get high), demographics (mostly white), and strong high school athletics programs. They only looked for a new town every three months, and this time, their search had led them to Lima, Ohio.
The men watched the boys practice with a keen eye. It was impossible to tell which one, if any, would be right for them with their helmets on, but they had learned from experience that following the better players would lead to good results. If possible, it shouldn't be the star of the team; his absence would spark a local outcry. But a talented kid, one who worked harder than his teammates, would likely be the right one for them.
Don, the oldest of the four at 42, sat in the passenger's side backseat flipping through an auto magazine. He was the cameraman and didn't care much for the recruiting process. He just filmed what they brought him. Every once in a while, one of the boys would catch his eye and he would take advantage of the opportunity he was entitled to as part of the operation. These occasions were rare, though, as Don vastly preferred the more feminine boys with soft eyes and lips who already knew their way around a man. These were the kinds of boys the others intentionally avoided picking up. The membership didn't like them. If the kid looked like he had done it before, like it wasn't repulsive to him, or god forbid if he looked like he liked it, their membership was enraged, called the production a fake, and three months of hard work and risk went down the drain. So Don usually stayed behind the camera.
"Hey Tyler, how about that one?" Johnny asked his cousin from behind the wheel, pointing at a group of three players lingering to chat after the others had headed to the locker room. Tyler, the leader of the operation, scanned the group of boys. One was tall, dark haired, and a bit doughy; he was also the first string quarterback, from what Tyler could tell. He wouldn't do. Another was olive-skinned with a mohawk. He definitely seemed to have a nice body on him, and personally, Tyler found him attractive, but he wasn't the sort of boy they usually brought home to their followers. Too edgy, not the right look. But Johnny seemed to have his eye on the third member of the group, an athletic blond. This one had spent most of practice at wide receiver, and had also backed up the quarterback. Tyler liked what he saw. The kid had that corn-fed, aw shucks, Midwestern boy look that his membership worshipped and a gigantic, bright smile. Their blond was currently flashing that smile at the doughboy, who also left for the locker room, leaving blondie alone on the field.
The kid turned to face them and stripped off his jersey and shoulder pads, leaving him in just a pair of knee-length Titans Football gym shorts. Just a hint of the waistband of his jockstrap showed above his shorts. Even from the car, Tyler could see the strong outline of six pack abs and broad, developed shoulders. "He's the one," Tyler nodded to Johnny, who turned the key in the Suburban's ignition. The men followed him with their eyes as he jogged around the McKinley campus. "Poor sweet thing," Tyler thought with a smirk, "he has no idea he's going to make this so easy for us." As the kid headed off the school's campus and down a secluded road, Johnny slipped the Suburban out of the parking space and trailed quietly behind.
