Chapter 9
The whirring of the machine echoed in the silent room. Seconds seemed like minutes as they all waited for the messages to play. Finally the click of the tape sounded and the tape started to play;
" I'm sorry I not here at the moment, but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can, Thank you. BEEP. Dr. Bentley, This is Snappy Drycleaners, your suit is ready to be collected. Message 1 left at 4.57pm yesterday. BEEP. Message 2: Oh deary me, your not here. That is such a shame. Whatever will your boys think of you now eh? Some mother you are! Call me."
The gang stood frozen to the spot as the machine reeled off the payphone number. No one knew what to say or do. Amanda could do nothing apart from sob quietly as she thought of CJ and Dion being held captive by that monster. Mark's crystal blue eyes filled with tears, one by one they cascaded down his face.
One. Two. Three minutes passed before Steve made the first move. He caught Amanda as she sank to the floor, crying uncontrollably. No longer able to keep the torrent of tears at bay. Jesse moved over to his friends, followed by Mark. All four held each other in a strong embrace.
Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours and hours like days. To the friends every moment lingered, and so did the pain of being separated from two lively young boys that brightened every path that they happened to cross. Their joyous whoops of excitement, the grins that spread across their faces each time 'Uncle Mark' performed one of his magic tricks, and the feeling of mischief that seemed to follow them everywhere.
But, mischief wasn't what followed the two boys now. What followed them was the fear of never seeing anyone again and never telling anyone how much they loved them. As young as CJ and Dion are, they know that the situation they are in is serious. They knew from the second they were snatched away from the love of their mum. Their terror grew every minute, and their heart wilted every second. Neither could hold out any longer, but deep down inside they knew they had to. If not for themselves, but for the family they had back home. They would not let evil triumph over good.
Craig surveyed the room, intent on finding a way to punish his captors. He had warned them many times before that he had a short temper, and was not to be trifled with. But, they didn't listen. That was a big mistake. The room was small, but Craig was very resourceful. The lack of contents did not stop him from conjuring something to stop CJ and Dion from becoming anymore unruly. He scanned the dirty, dark and depressing room until he found what he needed. Rope. As primitive as the idea seemed, it was fool proof. 'Tie the little runts up, they won't bite me then.' He pictured the boys squirming around, desperately trying to free themselves from this terror. Tears streaming down their dirt streaked faces, their eyes red from crying and throats red raw from shouting out to their mum. 'Mummy, mummy, where are you mummy? Mummy, come back. Mummy.' . The sound of their voices echoed in Craig's mind. He stared down at the blood stained rope. Blood from other children that never shut up.
"This will shut 'em up for good."
Craig skulked through the dark hallway of the deserted house they were hiding out in. Down the creaky stairs, through the door and down the rotting steps to his 'dungeon', the basement of the house where CJ and Dion lay, quivering with fear.
" I trust you have learnt your lesson now." Craig glared at the two frightened forms in front of him. " You should know by now that I do not agree with violence towards me. I used to be a kid myself and I know what little tear-aways kids can be. So, I thought I'd teach you a lesson you'd never forget." He advanced towards them; rope pulled tight, arms hovering at chest level. He towered above them like an eagle that is about to swoop down on his target and wipe them out with one foul movement. Except he wasn't an eagle, he was much worse. He didn't not kill to survive starvation. He killed for pleasure.
There are always several stages a person goes through during certain situations. Sorrow. Regret. Guilt. And then there is anger. Hot, white rage that builds up inside your body like toxic chemicals. They poison your mind and cloud your thoughts. All you can think about is destructing the cause of this anger. This alone is bad to witness or feel. But, to feel this anger and not have anyone or anywhere to lash out can lead to destruction of things you hold dearly Things such as friendship, love and compassion to others.
The hatred to the person behind CJ and Dion's disappearance was running deep into Steve's body, affecting every part. All Steve could think about was how he wished he knew the person behind this so he could tear his, or her, head off.
Cheryl observed Steve, knowing full well what he was thinking as he snapped what must have been the tenth pencil. " Tearing there head of isn't gonna do much good Steve."
Steve looked up, and then at his desk, which was covered in pencil splinters. " Is it that obvious what I was thinking?"
"The pencil abuse kinda gave you away on that one buddy."
"Oh, well I'm not going to tear anyone's head off."
" Well that's good to hear." Cheryl turned back to her desk, and continued to try and make some sense of the little amounts of clues she had. But, her train of thought was once again disrupted. This time though, it wasn't the snap of pencils. It was the muttering of Steve.
" I going to torture them and kill them slowly instead."
~ Author's note: I admit to not being very consistent in adding chapters to my story, but as you can see, I am getting there!!! Please read and review. Bye for now. ~
The whirring of the machine echoed in the silent room. Seconds seemed like minutes as they all waited for the messages to play. Finally the click of the tape sounded and the tape started to play;
" I'm sorry I not here at the moment, but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can, Thank you. BEEP. Dr. Bentley, This is Snappy Drycleaners, your suit is ready to be collected. Message 1 left at 4.57pm yesterday. BEEP. Message 2: Oh deary me, your not here. That is such a shame. Whatever will your boys think of you now eh? Some mother you are! Call me."
The gang stood frozen to the spot as the machine reeled off the payphone number. No one knew what to say or do. Amanda could do nothing apart from sob quietly as she thought of CJ and Dion being held captive by that monster. Mark's crystal blue eyes filled with tears, one by one they cascaded down his face.
One. Two. Three minutes passed before Steve made the first move. He caught Amanda as she sank to the floor, crying uncontrollably. No longer able to keep the torrent of tears at bay. Jesse moved over to his friends, followed by Mark. All four held each other in a strong embrace.
Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours and hours like days. To the friends every moment lingered, and so did the pain of being separated from two lively young boys that brightened every path that they happened to cross. Their joyous whoops of excitement, the grins that spread across their faces each time 'Uncle Mark' performed one of his magic tricks, and the feeling of mischief that seemed to follow them everywhere.
But, mischief wasn't what followed the two boys now. What followed them was the fear of never seeing anyone again and never telling anyone how much they loved them. As young as CJ and Dion are, they know that the situation they are in is serious. They knew from the second they were snatched away from the love of their mum. Their terror grew every minute, and their heart wilted every second. Neither could hold out any longer, but deep down inside they knew they had to. If not for themselves, but for the family they had back home. They would not let evil triumph over good.
Craig surveyed the room, intent on finding a way to punish his captors. He had warned them many times before that he had a short temper, and was not to be trifled with. But, they didn't listen. That was a big mistake. The room was small, but Craig was very resourceful. The lack of contents did not stop him from conjuring something to stop CJ and Dion from becoming anymore unruly. He scanned the dirty, dark and depressing room until he found what he needed. Rope. As primitive as the idea seemed, it was fool proof. 'Tie the little runts up, they won't bite me then.' He pictured the boys squirming around, desperately trying to free themselves from this terror. Tears streaming down their dirt streaked faces, their eyes red from crying and throats red raw from shouting out to their mum. 'Mummy, mummy, where are you mummy? Mummy, come back. Mummy.' . The sound of their voices echoed in Craig's mind. He stared down at the blood stained rope. Blood from other children that never shut up.
"This will shut 'em up for good."
Craig skulked through the dark hallway of the deserted house they were hiding out in. Down the creaky stairs, through the door and down the rotting steps to his 'dungeon', the basement of the house where CJ and Dion lay, quivering with fear.
" I trust you have learnt your lesson now." Craig glared at the two frightened forms in front of him. " You should know by now that I do not agree with violence towards me. I used to be a kid myself and I know what little tear-aways kids can be. So, I thought I'd teach you a lesson you'd never forget." He advanced towards them; rope pulled tight, arms hovering at chest level. He towered above them like an eagle that is about to swoop down on his target and wipe them out with one foul movement. Except he wasn't an eagle, he was much worse. He didn't not kill to survive starvation. He killed for pleasure.
There are always several stages a person goes through during certain situations. Sorrow. Regret. Guilt. And then there is anger. Hot, white rage that builds up inside your body like toxic chemicals. They poison your mind and cloud your thoughts. All you can think about is destructing the cause of this anger. This alone is bad to witness or feel. But, to feel this anger and not have anyone or anywhere to lash out can lead to destruction of things you hold dearly Things such as friendship, love and compassion to others.
The hatred to the person behind CJ and Dion's disappearance was running deep into Steve's body, affecting every part. All Steve could think about was how he wished he knew the person behind this so he could tear his, or her, head off.
Cheryl observed Steve, knowing full well what he was thinking as he snapped what must have been the tenth pencil. " Tearing there head of isn't gonna do much good Steve."
Steve looked up, and then at his desk, which was covered in pencil splinters. " Is it that obvious what I was thinking?"
"The pencil abuse kinda gave you away on that one buddy."
"Oh, well I'm not going to tear anyone's head off."
" Well that's good to hear." Cheryl turned back to her desk, and continued to try and make some sense of the little amounts of clues she had. But, her train of thought was once again disrupted. This time though, it wasn't the snap of pencils. It was the muttering of Steve.
" I going to torture them and kill them slowly instead."
~ Author's note: I admit to not being very consistent in adding chapters to my story, but as you can see, I am getting there!!! Please read and review. Bye for now. ~
