It was late when Sansa neared her home: later than it should have been. If her parents were at home, she'd most likely be in trouble. She smiled either way, thinking back on what fun she had earlier, letting out a breath that was visible in the chilly winter air.
She had gone to choir practice right after school had let out, and then to ballet class after that. Jeyne accompanied her to both, as they took most of the same classes. They laughed and gossiped after all their practice was done, over a cup of yogurt at the local self-serve place. The fun only stopped when Jeyne looked at her phone, gasped, and rushed out saying her parents would kill her if she didn't get home. Sansa laughed nervously and said it'd be the same for her.
Now she was walking down the sidewalk, her ballet gear in the tote bag she had slung over her shoulder. She was somewhat cold, wishing she had brought a jacket. The oversized blue sweater sher wore would have to do, and it was only a couple of more blocks to her home.
She passed several small businesses scattered among the houses in her neighborhood. Nothing exciting. Just the usual quiet night in the small city of Winterfell. Sighing, she took out her iPod and put her earbuds in. Lady Gaga songs drowned out the sound of slowly passing cars as she walked down the sidewalk in her flats.
Finally, she arrived at her home. It looked a bit like many other houses: a Colonial, painted gray, with black shutters. Two brick chimneys rose up from the black-shingled roof. So dull. So boring. With another sigh, Sansa walked up the stairs to front door, reaching up to open it up. Locked. It looked to be pretty dark inside. Odd.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her keys, moving to unlock and open the door before shutting it behind her as she stepped inside. She flipped the lights on to the foyer and looked around. It was so quiet in there. Usually she'd hear chatter, her youngest brother running about, or Arya playing her music too loud in her room. But there was nothing.
The young woman walked into the kitchen, having to turn the lights on in there, as well. She walked over to the refrigerator, seeing a stick note stuck against the chrome surface: "Took Rickon and Bran to the movies. Be back later" - Mom. So that's where they were. Shrugging her shoulders, she opened up the fridge and took out a can of soda, then headed upstairs.
As soon as she reached the top floor, she felt a chill. Oh great. She knew just where it came from. She pushed the door open to Arya's lit up room. She was right. The window was open, letting cold air in. She had snuck out again. Smirking, Sansa thought about how much trouble her bratty little sister would be in when her parents found out. She shut the window, then headed next door to her own room.
Opening the door, she walked inside, throwing her tote bag down to the side as she closed the door with her foot. Sansa set the can of soda on her nightstand then reached up to undo her hair from the bun she had put it up in for ballet class. It fell down to the middle of her back in strands of wavy red.
She grabbed up a brush and began to work it through her long hair, glancing around her room idly. She stopped for a moment and turned back to a bare spot on her wall. That's where a poster was when she left for class. Her One Direction poster. Did her snotty sister tear it down?
With a frustrated growl, she threw her brush down onto the bed and approached the wall, running her hand against the wall, some traces of sticky tack left behind. Even more annoyed by her sister not even taking the time to do it cleanly, she began to pick the tack off the wall with her fingernails. That's when she suddenly heard her sliding closet doors creak as they opened. She turned to look, expecting to see Arya diving out at her. But no. It wasn't her.
A large man, all in black was standing there, his broad chest rising and falling slowly as he stared at her with cold gray eyes. Letting out a gasp, Sansa turned and tried to run for the door, but his large hand grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back against his sturdy form.
"Scream and you won't like the consequences," The masked man said in a low, growling tone as he pushed her forward against her bed. Oh no. What was he going to do?
She began to shake. He stepped closer to her, so she rolled off to the side and threw herself at her window, screaming as she tried to unlock and open it, "Help me! Someone help!" But she'd never get that window open. The man's arm looped around her waist this time and pulled her back, her long, slender legs kicking as her hands grabbed and scratched at his arms.
"I told you," he snarled as he smacked a cloth over her mouth. She could smell something sweet, and began to feel lightheaded. She kept kicking while she could, her flats flying off her feet and hitting the far wall.
But then she suddenly couldn't kick anymore. She went limp, though her mouth kept moving, trying to ask him to stop. He didn't hear her. And then everything went black.
When she next woke up, she decided she'd rather be asleep. Her head felt like it was going to explode, and the faint light in the unfamiliar room made it even worse. Her eyes squinting, she rose up into a sitting position, seeing she was in a bed. Not her bed.
Glancing around, she saw this wasn't her house at all. It looked like a basement, the entire room made up of cement. The small windows at the top of the far wall was partially covered by black cloth, but some sunlight still got in. It was morning.
Sansa soon got out of the simple, metal-framed bed and began to walk across the cold floor in her bare feet. She looked around for a door or some stairs, but none were in this room. She'd just have to find the other rooms, then. She stepped toward the doorless entry, but then froze up when she heard voices coming from a room nearby.
Steeling herself, she stepped out into a hallway, turning to see some stairs at the end. She picked up speed, moving toward those stairs. But someone stepped out from another door and she ran right into him. A large man. Another large man, though. She could tell it wasn't the same one from the night before.
She gulped down her fear and raised her gaze to the man's face. The darker-skinned man arched a brow at her and began speaking in a language she didn't recognize, a smirk on his face. He stepped toward her as she stepped back, and she oddly heard a jingling sound. She looked toward his long, tied back hair and saw bells strung through the hair tie. Usually, she'd comment on such odd fashion, but this was not the time.
Spinning around to get away from him, she ran right into someone else. But this person's figure was smaller, and more slender. She didn't have to look up this time, for the woman was almost the same height she was. The woman was lean, with an athletic build. She had a sharp nose, and dark hair cropped short to frame her face. This wasn't the person who took her either.
Staring at the woman in shock, she felt large hands clap her on the shoulders. She jumped in surprise the woman beckoning both her and the large foreign man forward. The man pushed her forward, as gently as he could manage, and they took a turn, and then another turn into a larger room.
This one had more to it than hers did. Three beds in different corners of the space, a couch on a rug in the middle, along with somewhat large TV on a stand before it. Sitting there was a third person, a large man. He flipped through the channels, obviously not finding anything that he'd want to watch. With his free hand, he brought the mouth of a beer bottle to his lips, taking a long gulp.
"Hey. She's awake," the woman said, the man on the couch turning the television off and carelessly toss the empty glass bottle to the floor. He rose to his full height, turning to walk toward the trio. Sansa's breath caught in her throat when she got a full view of his face.
One side was badly scarred. They looked like burns. And he was so badly burnt, that she could even see a glimpse of his jawbone. When she could finally peel her eyes away from his scars, she saw the color of his eyes. It was him. He was the one who took her.
Gulping again, she backed into the man that pushed her there, thinking he was less terrifying. The growly man didn't seem to like this, showing his clenched teeth at her as he stepped forward, black boots tapping against the floor beneath. Black boots, black jeans, black shirt. All black, like his hair.
She shrunk back even more, but the darker-skinned man held her still, the woman stepping to the side. Her kidnapper actually grinned at this, darkly, slowly taking step after step.
When he finally reached her, he eyed her up and down, then reached to grab her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him with her soft blue eyes. He leaned down a bit to be more on her level and still grinned, letting the silence hang in the air before simply saying:
"Good morning."
