AN: Trigger warning. Remember to take care of yourself first and moremost- if material such as noncon, death, gore and more upsets you, then please do not read this fic. The first chapter is pretty vanilla, but still. Now that's out of the way... Hello! I hope you enjoy the fic. Review and/or message if you like.
Airi stared at the heavy interior paneling of the van, feeling slightly nauseous. She had floated in and out of consciousness for what seemed to be hours, getting a firmer grip on reality only a few minutes ago. Even so, that grip was lacking. She had very little idea of where she was, and even less idea why she might be there. The last thing she could remember was innocent enough- it was midnight then, she was lounging on her father's favorite chair in the living room reading a fantasy novel. While she had no way of knowing the time in the windowless vehicle, she thought from her intervals of consciousness that she must have been traveling for a long time. And by the heaviness of the van's impact on potholes or whatever other bumps in the road, it was possible that she was traveling very fast. In any case, she was far from home.
Ever analytical, she sifted through the potential reasons for her nausea. If there were some part of this dangerous and mysterious situation that she could figure out, Airi would put her best effort into it, however small the impact might be. She had definitely been knocked out with some sort of drug, which could certainly contribute. For a moment, her mind lingered on the possible long-term effects of such a serious tranquilizer. Airi pushed those thoughts away. They drugged me, they didn't leave me to die. Whoever took me wants me alive, and seemingly healthy. She recalled that she hadn't eaten much the day before- or was it the day before, or had many days passed?- and that it was possible that whatever drugs had caused her to vomit, as well. I might even just be carsick, Airi thought wryly.
No, despite whatever logic she might conjure in her groggy state, Airi knew it was her instincts causing her to feel the way she did. She always had very strong instincts, and she always stood by them. Even if it was something as simple or silly as crossing the street at night when she would hear an odd noise, she would follow that impulse. Still, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to think something bad's gonna happen when you wake up handcuffed in... where am I going? Is this an armored vehicle?- but in any case, I feel like things are even worse than they appear. A car like this has got to be expensive. That could mean a few things- perhaps whoever took me has money, or they stole the car, or has someone with money backing them.
Her mind felt substantially clearer. Airi examined her surroundings thoroughly, fidgeting with the handcuffs as she did. She had never been blessed with good eyesight. However, she had surprisingly excellent night vision. Even if that meant that she could still only make out blurry outlines of things, at least she had strong contrast. Unfortunately, there was little to see. The van was practically empty apart from her and some grit in the corner.
Clink. Clink.
What is that noise coming from? It was too isolated to be something of the movement of the van, too constant to be caused by whatever road it travelled. Airi lifted her hand up to her ear to hear it better, and was startled to hear it accompany the movement. Upon further investigation, she noted that her handcuffs were linked around a hand railing attached to the wall behind her. The railing was fixed by heavy screws. However, the plating around the screws had rusted, deteriorating enough around one of the screws that it had loosened enough to allow some slight movement of the railing.
If I can unscrew that, I might be able to make a run for it when whoever this is opens the door. Airi examined the exit of the van, looking for an ideal place to wait. Unfortunately, the doors were relatively small- her captor would fill much of the space with their body no matter what their size. Her eyes fell back on the metal rail. If I get one side unscrewed, I'm free to move around. But if I get both sides unscrewed, I'll have a weapon. One that I desperately need.
She got to work immediately, prying at the screw with all of her might and dexterity. It was a tricky business due to how she was cuffed- it was difficult enough to twist her body around enough to see everything, let alone to actually reach the screws with her hands restrained as they were. Luckily, Airi's wrists were smaller than the handcuffs were intended to fit. Although there was no chance of them slipping off due to this, it allowed her to reach the last few millimeters to the screw. The cuffs still chafed horribly, the prolonged struggle causing bruises and then bleeding. The screws were even worse. The rust meant sharp edges -When was my last tetanus shot?- and the angle caused her nails to tear.
After about an hour of Airi's working at it, the screw popped off with a loud clatter on the floor. She immediately freed the cuffs from the railing. Though her hands were still bound together, Airi was able to swing them under her feet and around to the front. A fresh wave of nausea hit her as she realized the van was moving more slowly, taking more turns. Were they reaching their destination? If I'm still trying to loosen the railing when they open the doors, I'll lose my chance to escape. She considered giving up, but she knew in a burst of piercing certainty that she wouldn't have any chance at all without the rail.
The second screw was much more tight. Airi's hands shook even has her focus stilled completely. It was hardly giving at all, and her hands were battered from her first attempt. By all laws of the universe, it ought to take two times as long as the first. By Murphy's Law, it ought to take three. She wrenched at it nevertheless, hoping. Maybe we're not close to stopping, maybe we're just passing through a town or some alleys, or maybe they're going in circles to confuse my sense of direction, or maybe- her thoughts ran faster than she could keep track of- am I even supposed to be conscious? What will they do if they meant for the drugs to last longer? What if-
The van shuddered to a stop. Airi became conscious of how loud she was being, how everything echoed in the empty truck. A door clunked shut at the front of the van. Heavy footsteps, the weight of steel-toed boots on something like gravel, audible even through through the van's apparent layering. The footsteps came closer, following the curve of the van. They paused for a second. Airi heard gruff voices, the words muffled. Airi pulled away for a moment, taking a deep breath. The footsteps started up again, mere feet from the doors. Airi heard the lock begin to shake and with one burst of panicked energy she ripped the railing off the wall, simply breaking the rusted screw.
"What the-" the figure opening the door barely spoke before collapsing. Airi realized she had smashed the rail against his skull a few seconds after she had already bolted out of the car and jumped over his unconscious body. Was that... a government soldier? But why? She wasn't about to spare time for the thought, not now. She was running fast, faster than she had ever run before, barely taking in surroundings enough to dodge and weave and-
Oh, fuck.
An entire army platoon stood in front of her, every last one of them holding a gun. Airi skidded to a stop. Several of the soldiers turned to look at her, heads following heads until all of them pointed in her direction. She could hear someone running up behind her. Airi readied her rail unconsciously, as little effect as it would have. She wondered if it were the soldier from the van. Her suspicion was confirmed as the rail was wrenched from her grasp with unnecessary violence. The soldier came uncomfortably close, the smell of oil clinging to his shirt. Airi felt paralyzed under the glare of the army, hyper-aware of the blood running down the soldier's temple, and the syringe he held at her neck.
"Welcome to the Program, girl."
He injected, turning her world to darkness.
