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xmoonlitx
Love + Hate = Forever
Lost myself, and I am nowhere to be found - Sia
The shop was empty, nothing at all intriguing the outsiders in. I felt like screaming out to the world an advertisement, wearing a chicken suit just so they would notice me, and listen. It was my loss too that there was no business, even if I didn't own it. I had to get my money eventually.
Pauli sighed in defeat, "I vill never mek money lik this!" he sulked and kicked the counter heartlessly.
"Hey don't worry," I assured him, patting his back, "I'll help."
"Jamie," he shook his head, "go, you hev better tings to do now. I vill clean up."
"No, Pau-"
"Gats an order," he cried miserably and waved me off.
As much as I loved him, I knew just as well that fishing gear was not going to interest the Aussie fellows. Nobody cared about fishing. I knew that because I didn't. Why fish when there are professionals to do it for you? And even if the pros came here, we didn't have nearly as good quality as they needed for them to even glance at our stuff. I felt sorry for Pauli.
"I'll see you tomorrow Pauli," I called out from the front, "don't break anything!"
All I got for an answer was another weak kick at the counter. I sighed. Why couldn't Pauli fish himself if he loved it so much? Oh right. He couldn't. Fear of fucking water. I couldn't blame him though. Just the thought of sinking a ten thousand feet below ground kind of crept me out. Not being able to breathe, choking, drowning, not good thoughts.
I swatted away the mosquito that kept pestering my shoulder. They have something for my neck and shoulders. It seemed to be where all the mosquitoes headed for, but only for me.
"Hi honey," a husky, deep voice crept behind me.
I turned around to see who my failed seducer was, only to have a hand inches from my neck. I ducked, thank goodness for my undeniably fast reactions and Jason for getting me hooked to martial arts.
"What do you want, bastard?" I hissed, grabbing ahold of the hand still reaching out. I began to twist it, but nothing came from the hooded attacker, not even a groan of discomfort. He immediately turned to right his hand back, forcing me to loose my grip and gasp in surprise. I ran for it, only heading down a dark street, hoping to find someone along the way.
"Wha-" he began and chased after me. I didn't get a couple of good steps before he had me to the ground, kicking at his head.
"Let the fu-" I screeched, trying to attract attention. His big thick hand covered my mouth, leaving me gasping for breath. He got on top of me, knife ready at hand, struggling to keep me steady. We tussled for a moment before I went for a punch, and a blur just passed by.
"Don't move," he threatened, suddenly having me faced away from him, standing, knife at my throat. I looked for help, only to realize that the street was deserted, but as my eyes adjusted to the night, I realized that it was a small narrow alleyway. "You'll do as I say or I'll kill you."
I realized his build was not that bulky, not the expected bulging biceps and towering height, but he was still strong, and tall. I knocked out plenty of guys the size of him, but then again, they were mainly fat, not muscle.
"Fuck you," I growled and kicked his groin, only to get a smirk.
"You really think that works?" he laughed and began dragging me further down the alley.
"Oh I'm sorry," I apologized sarcastically, completely aware of the knife shaking with his laughter, "see, I mistaken you for a fucking man."
"Who says I'm not a fucking man?" he snapped and dug the knife further down.
"Nobody," I hissed, "just a fucking man without balls."
He didn't say anything in return, but I was sure I felt his lips curved, "Be bloody grateful I haven't killed you yet."
"Actually," I scoffed, "I'd prefer that so I wouldn't have to fucking smell you." But that was a lie. He smelt of honeycomb chocolate, and nobody, except for Matt, knew my secret obsession for honeycomb.
"You swear too damn much," he muttered before a sharp pain shot through my neck.
It might've been a couple hours, minutes, or days, I didn't know. Maybe I died, maybe I didn't, but I was pretty sure I wasn't, because heaven sucked shit, unless I went to hell. Even so, I wasn't sure I was supposed to feel numbing pain in my hands and feet and the strong desire for my heavy head to lay 'down' on something. Stupid gravity, oh how I hated it. And that's when I realized I was chained to a fucking wall.
"Get the fuck up," the same husky voice demanded.
"I would if I could," I told him, every word spitting with sarcasm, "but wait! I'm already up and off the ground! Bastard!"
The room I was in was barely classified as a room. Literally stone walls with hay scattered around every corner. It made a rectangle shaped room with a low ceiling, my head almost reached it. There was a dim candle light at the other side of the room. It had no effect over here, enabling me to see my kidnappers face.
"I didn't ask you to fucking talk," he threatened, holding the knife again.
"And you say I swear too much," I muttered under my breath, but he heard it.
"Say one more," he dared.
"You didn't tell me to st-" his pale masculine hand covered my face again. His hand was too big for a guy his size. If your hand was bigger than your face, apparently you had cancer. I really hoped he did.
"I will kill you-"
"Then do it!" I managed to muffle out of his hand, "Why not?"
He glared at me, removing his hand from my face. "You make another sound and I'll kill you with my bare hands." and with that, he flipped the knife into his pocket, as if to prove his point.
"What the fuck do you want from me?" I hissed, not any louder than a whisper.
"Shut it!" he growled, suddenly so close to me. "I swear to god if you say another word!" his hand slapped my face hard, hard enough to make my bottom lip bleed. I hated my vulnerable lips, bleeding every other hour.
The blood seemed to make him tense, and then the unthinkable. He kissed me. No, it wasn't a kiss. He tasted my fucking blood! His tongue ran along my lip, cleaning the wound. I was stunned for a moment, but no creep was going to fool me like that.
"What the fu-" I began to scream, but again, my mouth was covered, this time with his own mouth. He bit my lip, just to shut me up. I could taste the blood, pooling into his mouth. I didn't see how he could stand the taste. Metallic, rust, gross.
"Stop talking," he warned in a deeper voice, making his other threats sound like a joke, "I mean it bitch."
I bit his lip in return, which was still on mine, ignoring the pain it caused my lower lip.
"Feisty," he noted with a smirk, releasing my poor lip, "just like daddy."
"What the fuck do you know about my dad?" I demanded, but he just gave me one last bite and moved away.
He moved towards the light, and to my horror, he looked no older than 25. His voice sounded like a 40 year old's, not... 25.
His hair was wet. I wondered from what. It laid messily on his forehead, I was so tempted to swat it out of his face, but of course I was chained to a fricking wall.
"Can you please unchain me?" I asked in my sweetest, phoniest voice. "A girl has her needs."
My only need was to get out of his hellhole.
He turned to me with a smile, "I'm surprised to you manage to not swear and use sarcasm in the same sentence."
"It was a question you retard," I spat ungratefully at him.
He laughed and sat down on the hay, "You know for a moment I was actually going do to let you go?"
"Fuck you," I told him with deep hatred.
"Not on a wall," he chuckled darkly at his own joke, "I'm not that tall."
"I am not-" I began angrily, but thought better of it, "please?"
"Ahaha," he smirked as if I said something funny, "no chance babe."
I wanted to scream at him so bad. Scream for him to unchain me. Scream for him to explain himself.
"Well I," I began, batting my eyelashes overtime, looking down. "I sort of, well, I... " he bent his head down so he could see my face, waiting a reason to let me go. "I really need to urinate," I lied successfully.
An uneasy look flashed through his face.
"I mean, you can't really expect to me do it..." I continued, proud of my acting skills. He seemed to fall for it. "Here."
"One minute," he grunted and stood up, to unchain me. He did my legs first, wary, as if he's expecting me to kick him. I wasn't that dumb. He had to undo my hand as well.
Once I was out, I looked at him expectantly to point the way to escape, but turned out he's not that dumb.
"You can do it there," he pointed at the further corner, "we won't be here much longer."
"Are you-" I started and glared at him. "No!"
"Suit yourself," he shrugged and pulled out the handcuffs. I leapt out of the way and ran to the other side of the room.
He laughed, "Where do you suppose you're going to go? On the ceiling?"
He had a point, there was nowhere to go. No doors to break open or windows to smash. Maybe he was giving away a clue. Maybe the door was on the ceiling.
"Bastard," I hissed and again and looked frantically around the room for defensive things.
I grabbed the candle as he headed closer and closer, swinging the cuffs casually in his hands. I pointed the fire at him, hoping he'd shrink away from it, afraid to get burnt, but of course he was no coward, someone with his build. The closer he got, the dimmer the light seemed to get. I glanced up at him, hoping he'd fall for my puppy dog face. Dad always said he'd never seen a cuter face, but then again, he was my dad.
The fire was out before it touched his skin. I didn't have time to react. Everything went black. He was just about to grab my hands again, but I ducked and ran to the other corner, but again, he tripped me and both fell on the ground. This time, I did more than just kicking. He was too far below my legs to reach my mouth, so I screamed on the top of my lungs. He soon caught up though and I stopped screaming, waiting for the hand to come over. It didn't, but we tackled on the ground for a few seconds, before he had both my hands in a lock and my feet tight between his.
"Fuck you," I spat again before he lifted me up and dumped me on the other side.
"I think not," he hissed and he moved his lips to my neck, where the mosquito was about to bite before.
"What th-" the repetition of my mouth being muffled was getting boring. If I were him, I'd just muzzle me, but thankfully, I wasn't him.
I didn't have time to attack him before he locked my hands and feet again. I felt his cold breath on neck, moving down my collarbone.
"I'm sorry for this," he breathed, almost apologetically, but I didn't let it get to me, "I might bite."
I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Nothing felt right. Especially when his tongue circled the area he was supposed to bite. What did he think he was? A freaking vampire? But the moment I thought that, he bared his teeth and hissed. Two sharp points dug into my skin, slowly at first. I didn't feel anything. Though I was acutely aware his teeth in my skin, draining out my blood. The world started to spin, my hands and feet started to lose their feelings, and once again, something darker than darkness, engulfed me.
AN -
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