Me: Hello, again! Sorry for the long wait! :)
Tintin: Really, this is getting out of hand... -_-
Me: What ever do you mean? :O
Tintin: First you beat me up, then you- :O
Me: *covers Tintin's mouth* SSSHHShsh! Don't spoil the story! D:
Tintin: *grumble* Mff camfff brfff! (I can't breathe!) D:
Me: Oh! Sorry! *releases poor Tintin* ^w^''
Tintin: *pant pant* Great...Snakes... Ō_Ō
Me: Heh heh. I'll do the disclaimer today. I, AkuRoku18, don't own Tintin at all. Tintin belongs to Herge and Moulinsart (or something like that.) ;)
Tintin: *pant* Yes...now go read... *pant*
Me: Awww...sorry Tintin! *pats* As he said, go enjoy some fanfiction~! :D
Chapter 2
He didn't know how long he had been in the car, but by the time it stopped, Tintin knew that he was at the Order of Hades. He heard car doors open and slam shut, but couldn't see what was happening; the kidnappers had put a heavy bag over his head. The door closest to Tintin opened and he was roughly forced out of the car. Someone began talking rapidly in Greek, undoubtedly the man who only spoke in Greek that attacked Tintin earlier. The young reporter felt something that was eerily similar to a gun barrel jab into his back.
"Begin walking forward. Don't talk," the wielder of the gun hissed. Seeing that he didn't know how far he'd come, he had a bag over his head, and someone was pointing a gun at him, Tintin was forced to comply. He began to walk. After about 15 paces, the same voice said, "Now, turn left." Left. "Turn right" Right. "Now stop." Tintin stopped. "There is a flight of stairs directly in front of you. Stay close to the wall and start walking down them. Be careful not to fall down them; we want you in good shape for our master." Tintin snickered quietly, but began to descend down the spiral staircase. When he finally reached the bottom, the same man said, "Walk forward 7 paces and stop. Don't try any funny business, got it?" The reporter walked 7 steps and came to a halt. The gun wielder hissed something in Greek and Tintin heard a door open.
"Bring him in," a different voice said. The man behind Tintin jabbed the barrel of the gun sharply into his back and he stumbled forward. A pair of hands grabbed the reporter and practically threw him down on a chair. Tintin felt a tough cord being wrapped around him. When he was thoroughly tied up, the bag was yanked off his head. Tintin blinked a few times to adjust his sight to the light. He saw that he was in a small, grimy, square room with two windows on the left or right. Both were barred. In front was a small desk with a man sitting there. He had black hair that was slicked back, a crooked nose, and small, beady black eyes. The man grinned evilly and said in a deep voice, "Welcome to the Order of Hades, Mr. Tintin."
Tintin glared around the room and said coldly, "Ah. This run down place is the Order of Hades? I wasn't expecting anything less from a pack of yellow criminals." The man behind Tintin snorted and slammed his foot into the back of the chair Tintin was tied to. The reporter hit the ground with a dull 'thud.' He felt the unpleasant metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
"Settle down, Ikaros. After all, Mr. Tintin is our guest of honour." The man called Ikaros grunted and lifted the chair off the ground. Once again, Tintin faced the man at the desk. He felt blood trickle out of his mouth. "Now, tell me why you've come to Greece, my friend."
"First, answer me this," Tintin said quickly, "who are you and what do you want with me?" He was positive his question would be answered with another kick, but Ikaros didn't seem to budge. The bodyguard made a soft snarling sound, but remained still.
"Well, if you must know…" The man at the desk stood and walked until he was inches from Tintin's face. "My name is Abaddon Baltazar. It's a pleasure to finally meet the world famous reporter, Mr. Tintin." Tintin wished he could either get away from Abaddon's terrible breath, or simply punch him in the nose to make it more crooked. He preferred the latter.
"Charmed," retorted Tintin. Abaddon chuckled and returned to his seat at the desk. "Now, if you could answer my other question: what do you want from me?"
"Now, now. Let's not become impatient," Abaddon said, "Especially since you just got here! I'd like to ask you a few questions if I may."
Tintin glanced around the room. Perhaps there was a way to escape. He looked at the windows. No chance I could get through those bars, with or without the chair… and with that guard…what's his name…Ikaros watching my every move I won't be able to lift a finger! Concluding there was no way out, Tintin sighed and said, defeated, "Very well. Ask away."
"Good. My first question, who are you working for?"
"A newspaper company called Le Petit Vingtième."
"That's not what I mean. I mean, which country sent you here?"
"I come from Belgium."
Abaddon's eyebrow twitched slightly. "I don't think you understand my question. Whose government sent you here?"
"No one's government. I've already told you; Le Petit Vingtième sent me here to write a report for their newspaper," Tintin replied.
"Gamó̱to! Fine, I'll believe you this time," Abaddon hissed angrily. His tone became relaxed when he said, "Now, the next question. Why are you here, Mr. Tintin?"
"Haven't I made myself clear yet? I came for a report –" But Abaddon slammed his fist on the desk, abruptly cutting Tintin off.
"Sio̱pí̱! Why don't you tell the truth, you anói̱tos!" He practically leapt out of this seat and almost sprinted toward Tintin, fist raised. Tintin flinched, prepared for the blow.
Abaddon was prepared to hit the reporter as hard as he could, but the door opened brusquely. The man who only spoke Greek came in the room. He said quickly, "Kýrie, i̱ italikí̱ présvi̱s eínai edó̱!"
"Ti? Tó̱ra? Gamó̱to! Pes tou óti tha eímai ekeí sýntoma," replied Abaddon. He turned back to Tintin and said cruelly, "Very well, Mr. Tintin. You've been temporarily spared. I'll be back." Abaddon walked up to Ikaros and whispered into his ear, "Boreíte na afí̱sete epísi̱s."
"Ti? Allá, ti ki an prospatheí na drapetéf̱sei?" the guard hissed angrily.
Abaddon snorted and said, "Parakaló̱. Échei deméno kalá. Den tha páei pouthená." Ikaros sighed and followed his master.
Snowy awoke to see Tintin was nowhere to be found. Where has Tintin run off to? He sniffed around for the Tintin trail. The little white dog found his master's scent and followed it to the curb of the road. Why does his scent end here? Wait! Those thugs from earlier! They must have taken Tintin away! Rats! Snowy sat down heavily and huffed. Well, I can follow the car's smell and I ought to find him! The dog picked up the car's scent, which was convenient because the car seemed to have an oil leak. I'll find Tintin no matter what!
Tintin sat in the silent, dark room. He sighed. Well, this is just fantastic. Here I am, sitting in a dingy, musty room with no way out. Although… I might have something… Tintin managed to get his hand into his pocket. "Aha! Luckily for me, these gangsters aren't that bright. They didn't search me when I came in!" He pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket. Tintin managed to flip the knife out, cutting a few fingers in the process. He began to cut the rope that bound him to the chair. "That's almost got it!" The first loop snapped. "Excellent! Now for the other bits of the rope."
Eventually, Tintin had achieved cutting through the rope. He walked to the door and pulled on the handle. The door creaked open. "Great snakes! These thugs really aren't that bright, are they? To not lock a door with a prisoner inside…well, that's just foolish!" Tintin slipped through the open door and snuck quietly to the stairs he had been lead down. Before he reached the stairs, he heard voices coming from another room. Curious, the reporter stood next to the door and put his eye to the keyhole. Not seeing anything, Tintin gave up that approach and put his ear to the door.
"…of course, Sir Achille. The attack will be soon, I promise."
"Sì, sì. Very good, Mr. Baltazar. I will return to Italy and inform my generals. Now, you don't know an exact date, do you?"
Tintin heard Abaddon cough nervously and continue, "Er, no, not at this point. I swear to you that we will think of a time for Italy to invade Greece." That was all Tintin had to hear. He started to run to the stairs, but the door that he was just eavesdropping opened. He briefly looked back and saw Abaddon staring at him with hate and surprise. "Y-you! How did you escape?"
"You and your men were too lax, Mr. Baltazar. You didn't search me when you brought me in and you didn't lock the door designed to keep me in. I hope you learn from this experience!" Tintin started to run as fast as humanly possible up the spiral staircase. He heard several gunshots and furious shouting in Greek, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was to escape this place. Tintin came to the top of the stair case and looked at two hallways that seemed to loom over him. One branched to the right, and the other to the left. "Er, oh dear… it was easier with someone telling you were to go…" Footsteps were echoing throughout the building. Tintin hastily looked to his right. "I believe that I came from that way!" Without a moment's hesitation, the young reporter began to sprint down the right hallway. He came to a turn, rounded it, and came face to face with one of the thugs that attacked him earlier. He was with two other men.
"Ti sto diáolo? Tintin!" the gangster exclaimed. The other's pointed their guns at Tintin. However, the reporter was too fast. Just as the men started to fire, Tintin turned on his heels and dashed back the way he came. The thugs took up the chase, shouting profanities in Greek. Tintin ran past the stairs, where more gangsters seemed to sprout up out of nowhere.
"Well, how much harm can come out of going down the left hallway? I'm in a jam either way!" Tintin said to himself. But, while he was running, someone hiding in a niche in the wall stuck his foot out and tripped Tintin, sending him skidding into the ground. He pushed himself off the ground, dazed. Two men, one of which was the thug that knocked Tintin out in their little fight, grabbed the reporter and held his arms behind his back.
Clapping echoed in the hallway. From round the corner, Abaddon walked forward. He said, "That was a marvelous escape attempt, my friend. I wanted to see what you were really made of."
"Wh-what? You mean…" Something clicked in Tintin's mind. "I understand! You deliberately didn't search me and you didn't lock the door on purpose!" He wanted to say more vile things, but now wasn't particularly the time.
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Tintin." Abaddon took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He drew a breath and blew out smoke, making Tintin want to cough, but he forced himself not to. The leader kneeled, looked Tintin eye to eye, and said, "Now then, I want you to leave Greece and never come back, understand?"
"Or what?" Tintin asked challengingly.
"Simple. We'll kill you." Suddenly, Tintin felt a cloth press over his nose and mouth. "Just remember that, Mr. Tintin: If you don't leave Greece soon, the Order of Hades will hunt you down and kill you where you stand."
Tintin struggled against the man holding the cloth to his face, but he felt himself get weaker and weaker with each passing second. Why…do these kinds of things…always happen to…me? His vision darkened, and he finally blacked out.
Dun dun DUN! XD
Tintin: Hello to you as well, flylikeabird22! I'm happy to see that you like this story thus far. :)
Me: Awww...you're being so social! ^w^
Tintin: ...please excuse me while I kill my author. :(
Me: ...wait, what? D:
