The room was so dark, it was a little creepy. It was a hallway, so why shouldn't we properly light it? I looked around, seeing only dusty stones and spiderwebs. Man, this hallway was so long, it was insane. "Sir? Sir…?" I asked feebly. "Where are we headed?"
The monks in front of me stayed silent, just walking forward still. If this was the path to enlightenment, I didn't exactly like the irony. It was starting to get cold. Those monks had thick long-sleeved robes, and all I had was an old lemon-yellow 80's off the shoulder top and a pair of distressed acid wash jeans. It was slowly getting more and more like an icebox in this hall, and I was seeing no chance of light ahead. "Um…excuse me?" I asked again. "Where are we…"
"Miss Lennin," one of the monks said, not bothering to move a muscle and look at me. "We are almost there. Please, just remain quiet." Then the other one reached into his pocket and pulled out this really old, rusty key. Opening a door I just realized was there, he led me into a small room with a cot, desk, and two candles for light and warmth. Then they closed the door behind me, and I heard the rusted iron scraping against the inside of the door lock.
-x-
"Please," the woman sobbed to the five strangers sitting in her living room. "She went off to school and never came back. The police said she had to be gone three days before she could be counted missing, but in three days she could be dead!" The woman, her blonde hair graying and her green eyes bloodshot from tears.
"We understand, really," the dark haired woman in front of her said.
"Mrs. Lennin, could you possibly tell us a bit more about your daughter…?" another team member asked, the black man with the laptop.
Nodding, the gray-blonde woman answered. "Kayler? She has my hair, long blonde and soft curls, and her father's pastel green eyes. She's really thin, and has kind of a retro-style, likes all those 80's off-the-shoulder stuff… She graduates California State in a year…"
"Found her," the computer man announced.
"What do you have, Hardison?" asked another man, this one with green-blue eyes and long brown hair. He looked over the black man's shoulder at the laptop screen.
"She was spotted outside Cali State, but she never showed up for classes. According to mobile Facebook she's run into a few monks. Pretty strange…" Hardison told the five.
"Monks? In California?" the long-haired man asked. He sounded skeptical. He read the Facebook profile. Kayler Lennin is skipping first period anatomy to check out some awesome medical science info with two monks. Sweet! "Huh. So, she's a Med Science major?" the man asked, looking to Mrs. Lennin.
"Yes. Kayler's going to be a doctor. Pediatrician."
-x-
It was getting hard to breathe in here. The one window was a boarded up slot for messenger birds, and then two candles and a twenty-three year old woman taking up all the oxygen? By the time anyone realized I was gone, I'd be a corpse on the ground. And by the time they found me, I'd be a sack of rotting bones. But let's think positively.
I took out my phone and stood on my bed, holding the phone towards the window. I got a signal, so I hopped onto Facebook and updated my status.
Kayler Lennin is HELP ME HOSTAGE MONKS NO AIR SOMEONE HELP!
That should help people find me. Ha, like anyone would be looking. It had only been a couple of hours, and police have to wait three days. In three days I could be dead.
"C'mon, Kay. C'mon. You're Kayler Eliza Lennin. You can figure this out," I told myself, pacing the floor. I sat on the cot/bed/thing I was supposed to sleep on and thought out an escape plan.
Well, the two candles had about an hour or three (respectively) left in them, and then three hours of my breathing, would mean that in two hours I would be having hallucinations from lack of air. Contrary to popular belief, the space between a door and the wall it's hinged to and the space between boards patching a bird slot aren't enough to circulate air. So I was trapped until I was dead, basically. No windows. No doors. No way out alive, it seemed.
Oh yeah, that's positive.
-x-
"Really?" a blonde in the back piped up. She didn't sound all too pleased about it. Hardison turned to look at her, but heard a small beeping. "Hey, hey Nate… Sophie, Parker, Nate, we've got her. She updated her status and I can get her phone GPS signal from here…" Hardison explained, typing things in the computer's console to bring up software and the like. The man with the long hair, whom none of the team had introduced as Eliot, read the status.
"Better hurry up, Hardison. We can't waste any time on this job."
Nathan turned from the screen to Eliot questioningly. "Why do you say that?" he asked.
"Am I the only one who actually read her status?" Eliot asked the group around him. "For all you know she could be saying 'Kayler Lennin is safe in California, attending lunch with friends.' But instead, you know what it said?" he asked, getting a little annoyed with the ignorance around him, but he didn't blatantly show it.
"What?" Parker, the blonde, asked.
"'Kayler Lennin is HELP ME HOSTAGE MONKS NO AIR SOMEONE HELP.' That's what it said. This is a hostage job guys. And she's already in trouble. Her mom's right, in three days she could be dead. And by the time the police find her she'll be nothing more than decay and bones. So Hardison, could we move a bit faster?"
Parker looked over Hardison's shoulder, seeing Kayler's status and display picture beside it. A smug smile of understanding came across her face. "This isn't about the job, Eliot," she said quietly. "This is because she's another curly haired blonde you think you can get some fun out of. This is because you want to be her knight in shining armor, because you think she's hot."
-x—x-
A.N.: Hey guys! Wow, I've got a ton of projects to do, huh? Haha, well, at least I won't be bored this year! Either way, I have fallen in love with the show Leverage, and saw the lack of good fanfictions for it and decided to add my crappy works to the archive. And now you're reading it!
Please: If you find spelling errors, grammatical errors, or something in here you didn't like, then let me know in a review. If you liked it, as well, please go ahead and tell me. And I'd like to ask you guys to quote things you laughed aloud at, whether they were meant to be funny or not. Thanks so much. I really strive to write well, and your reviews help me out a lot.
Hope you enjoyed my little bit of The Hostage Job!
P.S.: Thank you, "Mrs. Eliot Spencer", for noticing my horridly obvious typo on Hardison's name. *headdesk*
