The universe just does not want me to post on time. I was just about to write the chapter when guess what happens? The power goes out. For DAYS. And okay, that happened like a week ago, but still. It interrupted my authorly flow. So anyway, I gotta apoligize again, cuz the next update is probably not gonna come any faster (tee hee) because I'm going on vacation. Keep your fingers crossed my loyal fans!
Kurt woke up feeling as though he had been run over by a truck, thrown off a cliff and then pecked alive by a squadron of vultures. Basically, he felt awful. His eyes were glued shut and a pounding pain reverberated through his head. His ankle no longer hurt, but he could not feel anything either. It was simply numb, and as Kurt tested it experimentally, pretty much impossible to move.
"Sebastian, Ace said to wait for him to get here!" whispered an angry voice somewhere to the left of him.
Santana, Kurt thought with surprise. What was she doing there?
"I know, I know. Can't I have a little fun?" Kurt recognized this second voice without any trouble. It was Sebastian.
"No," came the ice-cold reply. Sebastian sighed and there was the sound of feet shuffling on floor as he approached Kurt. Kurt stilled and slowed his breathing, trying to appear as if he was asleep. Hours of training spent on what to do in a situation like this one ran through his head, none of it processing. Unfortunately for Kurt, none of his teachers had covered what to do when your kidnapper was also your ex. Actually, if he remembered correctly, it had a lot to do with the kidnapping having been planned. Well, it looked as if he would be making up his own rules now. He moved his wrists ever so slightly, but to no avail. They were bound by rope.
"Man, he's still asleep. What's the fun in that?" whined Sebastian.
Kurt leaned back a little, pretending to be restless. He was met with the back of a chair. If these were ordinary criminals, he could be out of there in five seconds flat, but both Santana and Sebastian were just as good as him, and he couldn't take two at once.
Kurt felt a sudden stinging pain on his cheek. Obviously, he could no longer pretend he was asleep. He pried open his eyes and looked up at his kidnapper.
"Sebastian!" Santana looked furious. She marched over, her high-heeled boots clicking on the linoleum floor, and pulled him away from Kurt. "I told you not to touch him!"
"Well, he's awake now," said Sebastian, a crooked grin on his face.
"Wh- where am I?" asked Kurt, trying to sound as innocent and weak as possible. His eyes scanned the room, mapping out every surface and possible escape route. There wasn't much to note. It was completely bare, save for his chair, and there was nothing that gave away his whereabouts.
"That's none of your business," Santana snapped before turning back to Sebastian. "Puta de madre, eres estúpido o algo? Ace te va a tirar tu maldito culo de su cama por arruinar sus malditos planes, coño. Espero que pudres en el infierno después de meterte la pata en el culo así-"
"Did someone have a little lovers spat?" Came a voice from behind Kurt, interrupting Santana's tirade in Spanish. The sentence looped and changed tones, as if the words were a messy cursive. Kurt shivered involuntarily, causing the ropes around his wrists to dig in further. It was just a voice, but something about it seemed… off. As if that voice could, by itself, decide the fate of an entire country. Santana and Sebastian froze where they stood and turned to face the speaker.
Kurt didn't think he'd ever seen Santana look this scared.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" There was definitely something strange about the way the words somehow both scratched and soothed Kurt's ears. He found himself leaning inexplicably towards the voice.
"Kurt. This is Ace," Sebastian said, his words stilted and stiff, almost as though he were being forced to be polite towards his prisoner.
"Very good, Jack." The man, Ace, Kurt thought, sounded pleased. "And hello to you also, Queen." Kurt held his breath, not sure what the mysterious man would do next. To everyone's surprise, the blaring tones of "Disco Fever" invaded the room's cautious silence. "Oh, excuse me, that's my alarm. I have to make a call," Ace said, and that, as they say, was that.
(liney thing)
Blaine was in the middle of a mental break down when his phone rang.
The caller ID read Kurt Hummel
"Oh my god Kurt? Hello? Are you okay? What happened? Where are you?" The frantic questions poured like a furious river out of Blaine's mouth, that is, until a quiet, but commanding voice came out of the phone's staticky speakers.
"Hello, Blaine." The voice was not Kurt's. Not Kurt's at all. It was something... Entirely different.
"I'm sorry?" asked Blaine, confused.
"Let's make a deal, Blaine."
"Who are you?"
"I have your Ace. One of my cards fetched him while you were on a lovely date, I believe. Sorry about that." Blaine shivered at the strange cadence. His eyes widened as he realized what the speaker was saying.
"You have Kurt."
"Ahhhh... Now he catches on. Let's strike a deal, shall we?" the caller sing-songed.
"What do you want," spat Blaine.
"I want a number."
"Okay," said Blaine, confused.
"Sue Sylvester's. Your jack."
"I'm really confused by all these card references..." mumbled Blaine.
"JUST GIVE ME THE NUMBER!" the caller roared. Blaine jerked back at the anonymous caller's sudden change in demeanor and almost dropped the phone.
"I- okay." The caller had Blaine trapped in a corner. There was nothing else he could do if he ever wanted to see Kurt again, so in an almost monotone voice, he recited Sue's ten-digit cell phone number.
"Excellent. Kurt should be home safe right about... Now." The obvious pleasure in those words caused dread to coil at the pit of Blaine's stomach. There was a click as the phone call was disconnected and Blaine was left staring numbly at his phone.
Ace closed his phone- no, Kurt's phone, with a snap. Kurt sat back in his chair, his mind whirling after overhearing the previous conversation. Poor Blaine, he thought.
"Let me break it down for you, Kurt," said Ace, stalking impatiently behund Kurt. "We're playing a game. A game of cards. I have my King and Queen and Jack, and you have your own suite. For each card I kill, I win the game a little more. Do you see where I'm going here? I'll start from the bottom. A three perhaps, or a four. Someone close, but not TOO close just to give you a taste of what I can do to you."
"You would kill my friends? Innocent people? For no reason other than the fact that they KNOW me?" said Kurt, too outraged to feel fear quite yet.
Kurt could feel Ace's smile, cold and calculating. He desperately, desperately, wanted to see this man, see the person behind the voice, but try as he might he could not twist around enough in that accursed chair.
"Let him go now, Jack," ordered Ace. Kurt strained even more to hear the addictive sound.
"What- no- but I-" stammered Sebastian, his face turning red.
"Jack." Just the simple word held a million threats. Sebastian's face hardened.
"As you wish," he said, his words hard and clipped. He came forward to untie Kurt.
"Let's play," Ace purred, closing the door behind him.
Kurt sighed and slumped in his chair, allowing Sebastian to untie him. Santana blindfolded him and guided him out of the room through a series of corridors that each had more twists and turns than the last.
Outside, it was raining. Water soaked through the cloth over Kurt's eyes. Santana guided him into a car and instructed the driver to take Kurt to his apartment.
He reached being him and undid the blindfold. Suddenly feeling exhausted, he slumped back in his seat.
Kurt dreamed of the voice and cards and blood.
I am a horrible person for posting so late. Comment anyway?