Heeeeeeey, how about something different? I don't give an author's note at the beginning, I leave it all at the end, I just state that all rights belong to Disney and Dreamworks, and then you go read my new chapter? Sound good? Yay! (Ahem. Enjoy ;) )
Chapter 2
Elsa took in an unsteady breath, trying to calm her stampeding heart.
"Anna, if this is some sort of twisted joke to get back at me, I swear to god young lady, I am grounding you for 5 months instead," she said in a calm voice, trying to disguise the fact that she was trembling with fear. She waited for the owner of the gun to, indeed, be Anna, leaping away from her and crowing "got you!" Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.
"Sorry, 'fraid not," the voice chuckled again. Elsa's eyes adjusted in the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a dark shape beginning near her feet, traveling up the bed and ending near her right temple, where a black-clad hand currently pressed a gun. Oh god.
She closed her eyes briefly, trying to control her racing pulse before asking "what do you want?"
"Why, you sweetheart." Her eyes widened and she stiffened in fear. He chuckled at her reaction.
"Not like that, sweetheart. But, if you don't mind…" her attacker trailed off and lightly ran a hand down her blanketed curves. She suppressed a whimper.
"Well then, what do you want?" her attacker leaned in closer and whispered
"This is a kidnapping, sweetheart." She froze. "Don't think about trying anything, like calling for help or pressing any panic button," he added, "I've got this nervous little pistol pressed to the side of your pretty little face, and any sudden moves could set her off. And, judging by the exact position of my girl here, that would send a bullet straight into your frontal lobe, leaving you to die a very painful death. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Elsa didn't reply. The pistol was pressed harder against her skull until she felt a bruise begin to form.
"Would we?" he asked, repeating his question in a harder voice.
"No," she finally squeaked out. She felt the pistol ease away from her face slightly until it wasn't pressing quite so hard. She let out a sigh of relief. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.
"Get out of bed slowly, back towards me, and face the wall." She nodded slowly and began to do as instructed. She pushed the covers off her body and she stood up, ready to walk towards the wall. Her kidnapper followed her movements, never allowing the gun to leave her cranium. She paused for a moment as a thought occurred to her.
"Wait," she said.
"What?" snarled her kidnapper, pressing the pistol hard against her head again.
"Can, Can I just change before we go?" she asked, gulping in fear.
"Why?" he sounded mad and confused, and just a bit annoyed that this was taking so long. She shivered in fear.
"Because blue satin pajamas aren't made for traveling, and I don't want to ruin them. Besides," she added as she felt the pistol press impossibility harder against her skin, "I-it's cold out there."
"So?" he snarled.
"So, I'm assuming that your boss wants me intact and in good health when you bring me to him," I hope, she thought, "and silk pajamas not only do nothing to keep out the cold, but they are distinctive enough that when I go missing, people will notice me and be able to tell the police that they saw someone who looked like me dressed in expensive sleepwear, and you don't want a distinctive target." She closed her eyes, praying that that was enough to convince her kidnapper. He was silent was a few moments, thinking, then
"Fine," she relaxed, "but," he added, "I get to pick out what you wear, make sure that you wear something ordinary, and watch you change."
She turned around at that. "What?! Watch me change, why?" she whirled around out of habit and was met with the pistol pressing between her eyes. She nearly went cross-eyed, following the weapon's barrel until her pupils focused on the person holding it. He was about 5'10," towering over her petite 5' 6" and was dressed entirely in black, from head to toe (as far as she could tell). All she could see were his eyes, an odd silver-blue. Currently they were narrowed at her into silver slits of malice. She gulped.
"Sorry," she said. Her eyes darted away from eyes and went back to looking at the gun. "Why do you want to watch me change?"
"You were very lucky that I managed to catch myself in time," he snarled, "otherwise you wouldn't still be alive to ask that question.
"And, to answer your question, I need to watch you change to make sure that you don't try any funny business."
She scoffed. "Like what?"
"Like, pressing a secret panic button, or calling someone in a concealed cellphone, or sneaking something with a tracking device into your pocket." She just blinked at him like she expected him to start laughing and tell her he was kidding. He sighed frustratedly and said "look, I've seen it all before, okay, lady? So don't try anything!
"Turn," he said, waving the pistol at her, "and march," he hissed. She calmly walked to her walk-in closet. Still holding the gun to her temple, he leaned forward and cautiously opened the doors before shoving her in. She flicked on a light switch on the left, and he nearly tackled her before he realized what it was. He snarled and pushed her towards the racks. He sat down on a nearby chair, still keeping the pistol trained on her.
She carefully paged through the racks, trying to make it last longer and buy herself some time. Obviously she couldn't do anything to prevent getting captured, but if she could delay their leaving just long enough that when they snuck out the exterior security cameras would pick them up, then…no wait. Her kidnapper was obviously smart enough that he had already disabled the cameras, or knew where their blind spots were. Damn.
She glanced over her shoulder, saw him still watching her, and winced, turning back around. Breathe, Elsa, breathe. Don't panic. The most important thing was to stay calm. There had to be something else she could do. She was careful to keep her posture the same as her eyes widened with a new idea. She could pull a 'Hansel and Gretel;' leave a trail of 'breadcrumbs' wherever she went. It needed to be something that people wouldn't throw away in the trash, that would be recognized as an actual trail, but that didn't look obvious to her kidnapper. It also had to be common enough that she could get more if need be. But what?
"Tick-tock, princess," growled the kidnapper in the corner.
"I'm almost done," she said. She grabbed two pairs of jeans, three pairs of underwear, a bra, two shirts, a jacket, four pairs of socks, two tank tops, a pair of sneakers, a roll of deodorant, and a backpack. When she'd grabbed the backpack, he'd nearly shot her on the spot.
"What's that for?" He snarled.
"For the extra clothes."
"What d'you need those for?"
"Well, you haven't told me where I'm going, or how long the journey will be, or how hot or cold it'll be, so I'm trying to be prepared for what little you've told me," she sassed back.
"Watch it," he snarled, clicking the gun at her. She winced and began to pack. When she was done, she grabbed an outfit and started to go behind a rack to change, when he clicked his tongue at her.
"Uh-uh-uh," he scolded, "you'll stay right out here where I can see you." She flinched. He chuckled. "Turn around yourself if it makes you feel better, princess." She turned and began to awkwardly strip off the satin pajamas. He wolf-whistled as she unbuttoned the top and let it hit the floor. She winced again and hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself seem smaller as her pale cheeks were quickly flooded with bright red. She closed her eyes and hooked her thumbs in the waist before dragging the bottoms down as well. He whistled low, appreciatively.
"I must say princess, when I signed on for this job I did not expect to get a strip tease." She whirled around, embarrassed.
"Stop it!" She hissed, her arms tight at her sides, her hands in fists. His eyebrows shot up and he trained his gaze at her face.
"You might want to put some clothes on before you start protesting, princess," he said, still looking at her face as he waved the gun at her exposed chest. She squeaked and covered her breasts with her hands. "Just sayin'," he said.
She crouched down slowly, like a deer (or doe, with those big eyes) in headlights. She looked him in the eye while feeling around on the floor for her bra with her right hand, the other arm protectively crossed across her chest. When her hand finally came in contact with the lacy fabric, she snatched it up and attached it behind her, all the while watching him. His eyes never left hers once. Neither did the pistol, which was pointed at her head again. Fixing the straps on her shoulders, she grabbed the blouse off of the floor and broke eye contact to button it. Once the top was on correctly, and hanging past her hips, she relaxed and started to pull on her jeans. As she dressed, he continued to watch coolly yet, oddly, politely.
When she was finally finished and packed (after what had seemed like hours to both of them), he led her to the window. She gulped as she looked out, taking in the distance from the ledge to the ground. Suddenly having a balcony or a room on the top floor weren't such appealing ideas after all.
"A-after you?" she asked.
"Nope. Ladies first." He said. His tone seemed light, but his eyes warned her against objecting. She started to move towards to window and hesitated.
"I-I'm sorry, can't you, can't you just blindfold me or something?" He huffed impatiently.
"What's wrong now?"
"Um, I just, uh, kinda have a thing with heights." He glared at her for a few moments, before groaning dramatically.
"Ugh, fine! But this is the last time I cater to you!" He snarled. He grabbed a thick curtain pull and wrapped it once around her eyes before twisting the ends around her mouth in a make-shift gag. He placed the ransom note on the bedside table, written ahead of time of course, before turning to her. She was standing, biting her lips and rubbing at her hands nervously as she waited for him to help her down.
"Okay, princess, here's what we're gonna do," he started. "I'm gonna go first, with you right after-that way, if you slip I'll catch you. But no funny business, like messing with the rope or pushing me down, okay? You do and I'll shoot you dead before you can even cry for help." She nodded quickly.
"And just to make sure," He grabbed the other curtain pull, "I'm tying you to me." He wrapped one end around her waist securely before wrapping the other end around his own. He walked to the rope and she slowly followed.
"Now when I say go, you're gonna start climbing down. Got that?" he asked. She nodded.
He looked back at her once before swinging one leg over the railing. She was fiddling with the waistband of her jeans. He grabbed the rope, and led both of her hands to it as well, before swinging the other leg over.
Elsa tugged at the lace lining of her underwear. A tiny piece ripped off and she suppressed a smile. She let the scrap of fabric fall to the balcony's floor, her other hand still holding the rope.
"Okay, go," she heard somewhere below her. She slowly leaned forward, gripping the rope tightly, delicately slipping a leg over the balcony. She shifted her weight, then let the other leg join the first. Now she was just sitting on the railing of the balcony. She gulped, then slid off.
Her heart stopped beating for a moment as she fell through nothingness for a few seconds, to bang into the wall underneath the balcony. She bit down on her lips until she drew blood, trying not to scream. Tears squeezed past her eyelids and ran past the blindfold to dribble off her chin. Her armpits screamed in pain as her hands refused to let go or even loosen their grip on the rope. She just hung in midair, swinging lightly like a pendulum, unable to move up or down. God, she was such a wimp.
She felt the rope move a little more and she whimpered as her body swung a little farther. She felt an arm wrap around her torso and grip the rope, and a hand reach up to try to loosen her hands. Eventually the hand managed to pry her numb, cold fingers off of the rope, and she collapsed against a warm, woolen…something with shoulders. It wasn't until she was pressed against something solid that she realized she was shaking. She wrapped her arms around the shoulders and squeezed tight, still shaking. She heard the body sigh, before she felt the arms start to lower them down.
When they hit the ground, Elsa felt her legs give out from under her. She hit the cool ground with a thump, every joint turned to jelly, and folding easily under her weight. She curled into a ball and shivered violently from fear. She heard another sigh.
"Come on, princess, let's go." She felt arms scoop her up bridal style, and carry her to something. At first she just stayed limp, unable to move anything. Then she straightened. Her arms ripped the gag from her mouth before her kidnapper could move.
"Where are we?" she rasped. "Are we in the woods?"
"Not yet, and shut up," was his reply. She ripped off the blindfold and rolled out of his arms before he could catch her. She landed hard on her feet, but recovered quickly. She grabbed the curtain pull (still tied around their waists) and tugged, trying to sprint into the woods, her lips pursed tight against her teeth. She grabbed the knot around his waist and pulled, dragging him with her as she ran.
"Wait, hang on a second, stop it!" he hissed, trying to keep up. He tried to grab for his gun, but he was distracted by the trees and undergrowth to dodge. They finally burst into a clearing. She stopped.
"Is this deep enough that no one would hear me scream?" she asked, breathing hard. He grabbing his pistol out of its holster and, aiming it at her head, said "it had better be," clicking off the safety.
"Good," she said, letting go of the curtain pull before screaming as loudly as she could. He startled and dropped the gun before covering his ears. She fell to her knees, letting loose the screams that she'd wanted to do back when he'd first pressed to gun to her head, or when she was hanging in midair. All the stress and fear from the day and evening combined was released as she howled. She let staggered to a tree and gripped the bark, until it hurt to scream. When her voice finally gave, her posture slumped and she relaxed her hold on the tree. She turned around and wiped at her eyes with her wrists, panting. She looked at her kidnapper, who was staring at her as if she was crazy, with both hands covering his ears. He cautiously removed his hands from his earlobes, still staring.
"Okay," she rasped. Ouch. "That's better. Now," she swallowed, trying to moisturize her dry throat. She wiped her hands on her jeans, trying to get rid of any spare scraps of bark, "where are we going?"
And there you have it, the second chapter! I know that I said I wanted to wait until a substantiary amount of reviews came in, but then I received this beautifully long review (that was really very flattering) and I just had to update!
And yes, I'm still working/ developing The Winter Witch of the West! (I just have to work out the kinks of doing 'For the First Time in Forever' with Anna wheelchair-bound. I have a rough idea, it just needs to be articulated in words ;) )
'Til next time, lovelies!
~Beth