I tried to go to sleep, but that was hard. I was singing tomorrow on
my own float in the Thanksgiving Day parade. I mean.that could seriously
inflate your ego. I shut my eyes, humming the tunes I was going to sing,
softly:
I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waiting in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound
My eyes snapped open in alarm. I sat up, scanning the darkened room in a panic. I had heard a sound, unlike Avril, and it didn't sound right. A sound like someone purposefully trying to be quiet, a shuffling of silent footsteps, and a slightly hushed sound of someone breathing.
The sound stopped. I had held my own breath and only now let it escape my mouth in the form of a relieved sigh. My muscles relaxed, yet still faintly on guard, but all the same sleep had come for me. Pulling at my lids. Telling me to sleep, "There's nothing there.go to sleep."
My eyes were nearly closed when I saw the shadows move in on me.but they weren't shadows. My eyes widened in terror as a black hand covered my mouth. Now, several things happened at once. First of all two very large rough hands bound my own with a very grating piece of rope. I was frantically trying to kick out at the dark moving shapes. I heard the man grunt at his attempts at dodging my flying legs. It was then that I bit the other man's hand over my mouth. The hand was removed instantly. I opened my mouth to scream..too late a firm hand slipped over my mouth again only this time the person wore leather gloves. I began to breathe furiously through my nose.
A soft, slightly chilling British voice whispered in my ear, "You can make yourself faint that way, and we wouldn't want that now would we?" I bit his hand in response, but he merely said, "Please, this is expensive leather."
The voice picked me up, nearly getting a kick to his head, but a strong arm wrapped around my legs, stopping them from reaching their target. My hands, which were now tied together, were slipped over his head so that my arms hung around his neck. I would be able to untangle myself from him and escape.
They had filed into the hallway of the apartment. We passed my parents room. If only I could make some noise, any noise.
"Don't." Came the whispered reply. I stopped from shock and stupidity ( which I suffer from on more than one occasion ) I tried to turn my head to see whoever had a hold of me. He was wearing a black hat over his head with holes for his eyes. They were grey blue in color, like a stormy sea.
Shit! If he thought I was going to go along with this he was sadly freaking mistaken! I threw all my body wheight against him. He staggered against the wall, nearly dropping me and banging my head against the wall in the process. Before I could deal my second attack he had handed me over to the large Hell's Angel behind me. In the next second he had shifted his hand to cover my nose as well as my mouth.
I struggled in the biker's grasp, heaving for a breath of air. I thrashed my head wildly from side to side, his hand stayed immobile. My vision swam before my eyes, it blurred like a crummy t.v. reception. That was all I remembered, that is until I woke up tied to a fairly uncomfortable chair, with a killer headache.
I opened my eyes slowly, my vision still unclear, misty like sea foam. I blinked once, twice. My brain felt sluggish and my head was heavy. I fought to keep my eyes open and not to slip back into that empty darkness.
Shapes, dark shapes moved around the corners of my eyes. Soft murmurs. I couldn't hear properly. One shadow came closer, not a shadow. a man or at least I thought he was a man.maybe a monster. He stood over me.
"Ah, awake at last I see!" He said but the words ran together, echoing after each other, but with each word spoken my hearing cleared. I strained my eyes to do the same, the images sharpening to reveal a lamp. A piano. Windows and sunlight. Just dawn perhaps, maybe a little after. My eyes scanned the room to see it was antiquely decorated, some place a grandma would live.
My eyes traveled to a corner where the Hell's Angel was leaning casually in. Tattoo's lined his muscular arms going all the way up to his neck. His long coarse hair traveled down to the middle of his back, pulled back into a pony tail. Charming. The third man was the one I had bitten. His dark complexion made it hard not to miss him. He had cornrows and I thought vaguely that he looked good wearing a tan cashmere long sleeved shirt. He was sitting in front of three computers and one tv, watching the Sports Channel.
Then there was the man in front of me. He had somewhat spikey dirty sand colored hair, occasionally it would slip over his eyes. His eyes were a grey blue. My own eyes widened a bit in surprise, this was the one who had carried me down the hall and then tried to suffocate me. I continued my inspection. He wore all black. A black long sleeved shirt and black Kakis completed the ensemble. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of me and stared, seeming to thing I'd have something to say.
I did. "Why?" Was all I could ask, my voice thick with icy tones.
He leaned back in his seat, "Oh I don't think you should trouble yourself with the reason. Just know that you are in a dangerous situation. Do as we say and we just might not kill ya."
There it was again, that lilting foreign accent. It sounded like a British accent but there was a sound underneath it.a faint Irish one too. Damn! I had a weakness for Irish men but in this instance, I thought I could make an exception.
His brow furrowed in what looked like concern but it carried a smirk in it's features. His hand reached out to my face. I tried to pull back in disgust but I remembered I was still tied to the chair, when the ropes burned my wrists. He brushed away a few tendrils of my hair.
"Oooo," he hissed in fake regret, "That looks painful. Does it hurt?" His finger touched a spot right above my right eye. A sharp stab of hot pain followed that and I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.
"I see it does." He replied softly. From up his sleeve he pulled out a hankerchief. I raised my eyebrow.
"You never know when you might need to gag someone." Was his only explanation.
"It would have come in handy earlier," I said dryly, "before your henchman over there," I cocked my head to the one watching soccer, "lost one of his fingers."
"Indeed?" He asked mockingly, dipping the hanky in a glass of water by his feet. He then dabbed it to my forehead. What the Hell was this?!! He was healing me?! What gives?!!
"Yes, I suppose so," he continued, dipping it into the water, "but it would not have stifled your screams as well as a hand." He raised his own hand to demonstrate.
"I remember all too clearly." I retorted sharply.
He chuckled lightly.
He continued to wipe away the dried blood from the wound on my head, in silence.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"What?" His hands still moving from the water glass to my head.
"Why are you.curing me? You couldn't give a damn if I was in pain."
He stopped and seemed to think for a moment. Then he pulled his hand back and stood up.
"Probably because I don't want my only bartering chip damaged, that wouldn't suit well with your father." He walked over to the window pulling the heavy drapes back to look out the window.
What did my father have to do with this? Ransom? Possibly, but this seemed more thought out than your typical kidnapping. No. Something bigger was happening here. I shook my head trying to clear it all of the jumbling images and thoughts and focused my eyes on where I was.
It was as I said before, the house that seemed to belong to an old married couple than to these gentlemen. I tried to turn in my chair to look behind me. Dishes and broken glass were strewn about the floor. A struggle. Oh god, this was someone else's apartment!
"Where are they?" I asked the man by the curtains.
He let the drape drop back into place and turned to face me.
"Who?"
"Where are the people who lived here?"
He paused.
"I don't think you want to know the answer to that question of yours."
He was right. I didn't. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
"Oh yes," The man said walking toward me, "So sorry about the binding but we can't very well have you running out on us.can we?"
"I suppose not." I sighed.
"But don't fear Little One, we'll untie you before you talk to your father."
I raised my hopes..
"But no more than a few words."
.only to have them come crashing down. Oh yeah this was a Ransom, same stupid ass rules.
"Until then, if you're a good girl you can watch TV." He said picking up the remote.
I brightened a little at this.
"Channel 33." I said.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer." I stated.
The man at the table watching soccer gave a call over his shoulder, "Fuck no! Man the game just started! I am not going to stop watching this just so the little bitchy princess can watch some peroxide Spike show his pecs!"
I don't know why I did but a laugh bubbled up inside me, bursting from my lips to echo loudly in the room. The guy watching the sports turned to look at me, then rolled his eyes, "Damn, I do not need this shit this early in the morning."
I snickered trying to prevent laughter.
"Now that's enough out of the both of you." The man with the blue eyes said.
I doubled over in a fit of giggles, tears streaming down my cheeks. I have often been prey to a series of laughing fits, some of which last up to thirty minuets. Hell I was in trouble if this was one of those. I usually got them when I was scared, then the tears and the sobs would come after. I didn't want to cry in front of these men. Someone had to stop this.
With a tired sigh the blue eyed man pulled out a gun. My laughter stopped abruptly.
Hell that worked.
"Please try to keep it down Little One, we don't want anyone to know you're here. Rule #1 you do not speak louder than this," he said whispering slightly, "Rule #2 you do not try and contact anyone."
"And what's Rule #3?" I asked softly
"Follow the Rules."
I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waiting in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound
My eyes snapped open in alarm. I sat up, scanning the darkened room in a panic. I had heard a sound, unlike Avril, and it didn't sound right. A sound like someone purposefully trying to be quiet, a shuffling of silent footsteps, and a slightly hushed sound of someone breathing.
The sound stopped. I had held my own breath and only now let it escape my mouth in the form of a relieved sigh. My muscles relaxed, yet still faintly on guard, but all the same sleep had come for me. Pulling at my lids. Telling me to sleep, "There's nothing there.go to sleep."
My eyes were nearly closed when I saw the shadows move in on me.but they weren't shadows. My eyes widened in terror as a black hand covered my mouth. Now, several things happened at once. First of all two very large rough hands bound my own with a very grating piece of rope. I was frantically trying to kick out at the dark moving shapes. I heard the man grunt at his attempts at dodging my flying legs. It was then that I bit the other man's hand over my mouth. The hand was removed instantly. I opened my mouth to scream..too late a firm hand slipped over my mouth again only this time the person wore leather gloves. I began to breathe furiously through my nose.
A soft, slightly chilling British voice whispered in my ear, "You can make yourself faint that way, and we wouldn't want that now would we?" I bit his hand in response, but he merely said, "Please, this is expensive leather."
The voice picked me up, nearly getting a kick to his head, but a strong arm wrapped around my legs, stopping them from reaching their target. My hands, which were now tied together, were slipped over his head so that my arms hung around his neck. I would be able to untangle myself from him and escape.
They had filed into the hallway of the apartment. We passed my parents room. If only I could make some noise, any noise.
"Don't." Came the whispered reply. I stopped from shock and stupidity ( which I suffer from on more than one occasion ) I tried to turn my head to see whoever had a hold of me. He was wearing a black hat over his head with holes for his eyes. They were grey blue in color, like a stormy sea.
Shit! If he thought I was going to go along with this he was sadly freaking mistaken! I threw all my body wheight against him. He staggered against the wall, nearly dropping me and banging my head against the wall in the process. Before I could deal my second attack he had handed me over to the large Hell's Angel behind me. In the next second he had shifted his hand to cover my nose as well as my mouth.
I struggled in the biker's grasp, heaving for a breath of air. I thrashed my head wildly from side to side, his hand stayed immobile. My vision swam before my eyes, it blurred like a crummy t.v. reception. That was all I remembered, that is until I woke up tied to a fairly uncomfortable chair, with a killer headache.
I opened my eyes slowly, my vision still unclear, misty like sea foam. I blinked once, twice. My brain felt sluggish and my head was heavy. I fought to keep my eyes open and not to slip back into that empty darkness.
Shapes, dark shapes moved around the corners of my eyes. Soft murmurs. I couldn't hear properly. One shadow came closer, not a shadow. a man or at least I thought he was a man.maybe a monster. He stood over me.
"Ah, awake at last I see!" He said but the words ran together, echoing after each other, but with each word spoken my hearing cleared. I strained my eyes to do the same, the images sharpening to reveal a lamp. A piano. Windows and sunlight. Just dawn perhaps, maybe a little after. My eyes scanned the room to see it was antiquely decorated, some place a grandma would live.
My eyes traveled to a corner where the Hell's Angel was leaning casually in. Tattoo's lined his muscular arms going all the way up to his neck. His long coarse hair traveled down to the middle of his back, pulled back into a pony tail. Charming. The third man was the one I had bitten. His dark complexion made it hard not to miss him. He had cornrows and I thought vaguely that he looked good wearing a tan cashmere long sleeved shirt. He was sitting in front of three computers and one tv, watching the Sports Channel.
Then there was the man in front of me. He had somewhat spikey dirty sand colored hair, occasionally it would slip over his eyes. His eyes were a grey blue. My own eyes widened a bit in surprise, this was the one who had carried me down the hall and then tried to suffocate me. I continued my inspection. He wore all black. A black long sleeved shirt and black Kakis completed the ensemble. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of me and stared, seeming to thing I'd have something to say.
I did. "Why?" Was all I could ask, my voice thick with icy tones.
He leaned back in his seat, "Oh I don't think you should trouble yourself with the reason. Just know that you are in a dangerous situation. Do as we say and we just might not kill ya."
There it was again, that lilting foreign accent. It sounded like a British accent but there was a sound underneath it.a faint Irish one too. Damn! I had a weakness for Irish men but in this instance, I thought I could make an exception.
His brow furrowed in what looked like concern but it carried a smirk in it's features. His hand reached out to my face. I tried to pull back in disgust but I remembered I was still tied to the chair, when the ropes burned my wrists. He brushed away a few tendrils of my hair.
"Oooo," he hissed in fake regret, "That looks painful. Does it hurt?" His finger touched a spot right above my right eye. A sharp stab of hot pain followed that and I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.
"I see it does." He replied softly. From up his sleeve he pulled out a hankerchief. I raised my eyebrow.
"You never know when you might need to gag someone." Was his only explanation.
"It would have come in handy earlier," I said dryly, "before your henchman over there," I cocked my head to the one watching soccer, "lost one of his fingers."
"Indeed?" He asked mockingly, dipping the hanky in a glass of water by his feet. He then dabbed it to my forehead. What the Hell was this?!! He was healing me?! What gives?!!
"Yes, I suppose so," he continued, dipping it into the water, "but it would not have stifled your screams as well as a hand." He raised his own hand to demonstrate.
"I remember all too clearly." I retorted sharply.
He chuckled lightly.
He continued to wipe away the dried blood from the wound on my head, in silence.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"What?" His hands still moving from the water glass to my head.
"Why are you.curing me? You couldn't give a damn if I was in pain."
He stopped and seemed to think for a moment. Then he pulled his hand back and stood up.
"Probably because I don't want my only bartering chip damaged, that wouldn't suit well with your father." He walked over to the window pulling the heavy drapes back to look out the window.
What did my father have to do with this? Ransom? Possibly, but this seemed more thought out than your typical kidnapping. No. Something bigger was happening here. I shook my head trying to clear it all of the jumbling images and thoughts and focused my eyes on where I was.
It was as I said before, the house that seemed to belong to an old married couple than to these gentlemen. I tried to turn in my chair to look behind me. Dishes and broken glass were strewn about the floor. A struggle. Oh god, this was someone else's apartment!
"Where are they?" I asked the man by the curtains.
He let the drape drop back into place and turned to face me.
"Who?"
"Where are the people who lived here?"
He paused.
"I don't think you want to know the answer to that question of yours."
He was right. I didn't. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
"Oh yes," The man said walking toward me, "So sorry about the binding but we can't very well have you running out on us.can we?"
"I suppose not." I sighed.
"But don't fear Little One, we'll untie you before you talk to your father."
I raised my hopes..
"But no more than a few words."
.only to have them come crashing down. Oh yeah this was a Ransom, same stupid ass rules.
"Until then, if you're a good girl you can watch TV." He said picking up the remote.
I brightened a little at this.
"Channel 33." I said.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer." I stated.
The man at the table watching soccer gave a call over his shoulder, "Fuck no! Man the game just started! I am not going to stop watching this just so the little bitchy princess can watch some peroxide Spike show his pecs!"
I don't know why I did but a laugh bubbled up inside me, bursting from my lips to echo loudly in the room. The guy watching the sports turned to look at me, then rolled his eyes, "Damn, I do not need this shit this early in the morning."
I snickered trying to prevent laughter.
"Now that's enough out of the both of you." The man with the blue eyes said.
I doubled over in a fit of giggles, tears streaming down my cheeks. I have often been prey to a series of laughing fits, some of which last up to thirty minuets. Hell I was in trouble if this was one of those. I usually got them when I was scared, then the tears and the sobs would come after. I didn't want to cry in front of these men. Someone had to stop this.
With a tired sigh the blue eyed man pulled out a gun. My laughter stopped abruptly.
Hell that worked.
"Please try to keep it down Little One, we don't want anyone to know you're here. Rule #1 you do not speak louder than this," he said whispering slightly, "Rule #2 you do not try and contact anyone."
"And what's Rule #3?" I asked softly
"Follow the Rules."