Captive: Chapter Four
A Plan And A Visitor
By Rivertam
A/N- Well, sorry I took so long to update. Been busy.
Kiki: Yeah, I don't like being confused.
C'est Magnifique: Thank you for reviewing. No pairings. I'm not sure this could be less romantic.

QueenCate: Thanks.
Astacia: Thanks for reviewing. Yep, Veronica isn't doing so great at the moment.
Season4.5: Good to know I'm not the only one.
Spk: Yes, I finally updated.
Cronkalini: Mucha Gracias.

A Crazy Girl Of Many Names/shrugs/ beats shittiest piece of crap ever written. Thanks for reviewing.

Veronica was hunched over the floor; face pale, and looking even thinner than usual. Good lord, it hurt like hell. Her stomach wasn't there anymore. Instead there was some furry animal that, every once in a while, got pissed off for no reason and started clawing at her torso. She always hated furry things, with the exception of Backup.
Her throat wasn't there anymore either, but that didn't matter. It only hurt when she talked and she sure wasn't talking anymore, not after days of screaming near the doorway when no one could hear her. It was a waste of time. Ditch that, in her current state escape was nearly impossible, she was practically a waste of life at the moment.

'Damn this, damn this,' seemed to be the only thought running through her head over and over and over. It was actually really annoying, like a repeating record, she just couldn't get it to stop. She was about ready to slam her head up against a wall to make it stop. The fact that she still couldn't move was a fairly small problem, one she was still working on fixing. When she wasn't busy starving to death.

...starving to death...

Gee, what a morbid way to die. She'd always thought she'd go with a bullet to the head or something. You know the kind of thing that might hurt real badly for a second, but only for a second. Then nothing could hurt you ever again.

...nothing could hurt you...

She really wasn't herself. She needed to stop thinking of death like some sort of paradise. She wasn't ready to go yet, if she ever decided she was then she'd have the guts to commit suicide. Plus, she so could not kick it until she knew who'd killed Lilly. That was the most important. It's pretty hard to get someone arrested when you're dead...

Well, it was good that that was finally decided. She wasn't going to die, not here anyways. Nope, definitely not here.

Creeaakk...What was that? Was someone here? Could she even scream?
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Not one whisper. She rolled over, pretty frustrated. Looked like it was up to her to get herself out of here, which was not going to be easy.

How long had she been here, anyway? A day? A week? A year? Did it matter?

Ow, suddenly the place wasn't dark anymore. Light, light, light. That's all she could see. Not one other thing. It hurt eyes that had been in the dark for so long, too.

There was something cold against her head. She tried to reach up to feel what it was, but instead someone kicked her in the stomach and grunted, "Don't touch that."

She nodded dumbly, than whimpered pathetically and tried to get as far away from here as she possible could. A thought had just hit her. In all likelihood, this was it. It was either death or freedom. She really didn't think freedom would hold a gun up to her head either. So much for not dying here.

The most wonderful smell in the world filled the room. Maybe this guy wasn't going to kill her. She sat up and looked around for the source just as the man chucked a white paper bag at her head and sat a paper cup on the ground.

He walked out and shut the door. Gone as quickly as he had come.

She took only one second to tear open the bag and shove the greasy and undercooked contents into her mouth. She probably wouldn't have noticed if they were infested with maggots.

This was more than food, much, much more. What that man had just given her was something precious beyond all reckoning...life.

The food and soda made her feel much better. She sat up and her eyes would actually focus. It was then that her eyes landed on one certain feature of the ceiling, and she became conscious of the fact that he had given her yet another precious gift. A plan. And a damn good one, if she was to say so herself.

"Hello? Neptune police department?" Keith clutched the phone, a pained look on his face.

"Yes. Please state your emergency." The voice sounded bored. Really bored.

"I need to report a missing person."

The voice was suddenly laced with sympathy. "Very well. Name."

"Veronica Mars."

"Let me look that up and che-"

Another voice one he, unfortunately, recognized. "Keith Mars?" asked the Sheriff, "Asking the Neptune police for help? When did this happen?"

He grit his teeth. His pride wasn't worth this. "My daughter is missing."

"Oh," came the smug and taunting reply. "You sure she didn't take off after one of her mystery killers?" At this time the Sheriff took a second to chortle at his own crappy joke.

"Yes." 'Damn sheriffs who think they know everything...' he though darkly.

A loud sigh came over the phone. "Fine. I'll file the report."

/Click/ That conversation was over.

Now all he could do is wait...and hope.