Hi ya all!
Well, I've decided to update A LOT sooner than expected. I'm sure you're all excited. (Maniacal cheering and whistling). Well, I guess so. Let's get these reviews taken care of, then I can tell you that this is the chappie you've all been waiting for! ….Wait…dang it!… I just told ya! Oh well.
To my reviewers new and old:
James' Grl: Well, I take it my muse (Kiara) is still here. Yea! And thanx, I love you too…I think. J/K!
Korona123: Yea! I'm awesome… or… my story is awesome… Oh well! Something's awesome, and I love it! Thanx for the compliment!
Daisyangel: I know I made Cath blame herself, but…there is sort of a point for it at the end! You'll just have to wait and see.
Ze Queen Of Bleu: Well, if it's getting better and better, then I guess I need to update faster and faster, huh? Okay! I can do that!
Cheelalaucha: Well, I can't answer that, cuz it will give everything away. But, I think you'll be VERY happy with this chappie! wink wink
Sherlock's Sparrow: Keep up the good work on your story! I always like it when I can read stories by people who are reading mine!
Espina Oscura: Well, thank you very much! I am only an excellent writer, because of all the excellent reviews I have been receiving!
Manda: So, I'm evil, but you still love the story? KK, I'll take that! evil laughter … clears throat. … You never heard that. J/K. And I'm glad you liked the Greg/Sara scene, that was a tear jerker (at least..I thought so)
dagdrommer: Thanx so much! I always like to hear when ppl first join the story and can't seem to get away. You're the best!
GreggoAddict: I did even better than a few days; how does one day sound Greggo? And I'm holdin you to having that chappie out soon!
REHGAI! AKA SBL: Check out your e-mail!
jojojojo01: Well here ya go! I tried to get Archie and the others in here too, but there's not all that much they can do! I'm gonna add them in again though! So just keep an eye out!
Lins: bows Thank you, thank you! I am a very surprising person (as long as it's a good thing. If not, then it's all my boyfriend's fault!)
Depressed cubs fan: Well well, speak of the devil. Everyone, this is my boyfriend! Boyfriend, this is everyone, well, mostly everyone! So Babe, is your name gonna change after every Cub's game, oh wait, probably not. Thanx for the advice, but I'll think I'll stick with being a paramedic (it'll be safer that way). And don't worry, I'll update just for you! Luv ya Babe! And, oh yea, I WIN TODAY!
All right! All mooshy feelings aside, cuz now we're being serious! Greg is back in the story! I swear! Heck, the first word in the story is his name! If anyone can believe this, I actually started typing this at 8:30, and it is now 11:43. I'm startin' early, cuz I'm gonna put in a second chappie so you all don't kill me after how this one ends. So, yea, let's get it on!
This chappie has been disclaimed!
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Chapter 9- Residence of Torture and Terror
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Greg woke up with his head spinning, barely able to hold back the nausea he was feeling. Looking around, he was surprised to see his surroundings still completely dark and clastophobic.
"What? I thought I saw the lid open. Was I imagining things?"
He raised his hands to his head to rub his throbbing temple, but a s he placed his fingers against his skin, he didn't feel his hair. He felt cloth. Resting his whole hand against the spot, he felt a sheet-like material tied loosely around the wound on the back of his head.
"What the-? Either someone has been in here and closed me back in, or I've learned how to be a doctor be my sleep. But it's only slowed the blood flow. Why did they leave me here?"
As soon as Greg set his hands beck down on his chest, a loud thump banged against the lid of the coffin, as if someone was knocking. Greg jumped too quickly to stop himself from banging his head on the lid. "Ow! What the-"
"Hello Greg. Having fun?"
Greg blinked his eyes furiously as he tried to rid them of the black spots; he slightly noticed that his breathing had pitched a notch. "Who-who are you?"
The voice laughed loudly. "Poor Greggy, so confused and scared. You know, you've been in the dark almost eight hours now. But that is NOTHING compared to what my FATHER went through in prison before his injection!"
Greg squinted his eyes as he thought. "Jackson?"
"Yes Greg. My father was Peter Jackson. The one you and those other four killed! It wasn't hard to find all five of you; you were all at his trial, I just needed to tap into a few files in your lab's database to find out who exactly you were. The others got off easy; hit in the back of the head with a hammer and left in an airless coffin til they died. Oh, they all woke up before they died and tried to get free, that's why their fingers were practically gone, from scratching at the lid of the coffin; but they didn't get away. But you, you were a special case Greg; I took a great interest in you. You were younger than the rest and I couldn't understand why you wanted a job like you have; jumping into other people's lives when they're dead, judging people by how they treat others. Then, after following you for a while, I realized what it was; you were friends with the whole CSI team, who all almost praised your talents in the lab. So, I decided to have a little fun with you. Sure, I captured and buried you like I had done the rest, but I gave you air and a way to communicate with your friends. I couldn't pass up a chance to ruin your friends, as well as you. And now, you only have a few minutes of air left, and your friends still haven't found you. What a crying shame."
"Sh-shut up!" Greg was crying now, both from the excruciating pain, and the confession he had just heard, confirming his death. "You-you did all this. Killed all those people, just for putting your dad in prison cause HE killed seven people? Y-you'll be charged with the same crimes for this!"
Chris laughed again (he does that a lot), "Oh, you don't seem to get it Greggy; I don't care. I have nothing left. My mother died of grief a week after Dad was injected. I don't have any siblings or other family. I don't care how this turns out. As long as you go down with me!"
A loud crash suddenly erupted from outside the coffin, causing Greg to hit his head again in surprise. The sound of muffled voices, and then a struggle were barely heard, but then a new voice came clearly from above the coffin.
"Greg?"
"Nick?"
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OoO
Should I stop here? It was SO tempting, but I knew you'd all probably kill me. (Ducks flying tomatoes) AH! I HATE TOMATOES! I'LL KEEP GOING!
OoO
Brass pulled up to the house registered under Mr. and Mrs. Peter Jackson, the ambulance parking just around the block. He turned around in his seat.
"Okay," he started quietly, "It's very important that we don't lose our cool in there. This guy seems to want us to find him now; and every minute is going to count."
"We got it," Nick said impatiently, "Let's get Greg out of there!"
Grissom turned to look at the younger CSI in the back seat. "Nick, you must stay calm, or we will not let you go in. I need you to keep a calm head, and talk to Greg once we find him. He needs his best friend's support and guidance right now."
Nick took a deep breath and nodded, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Warrick. "Let's go."
All four pulled their firearms and got out of the car. Brass took the lead as he stood in front of the door, the three CSI's fanning both sides, and he kicked the door in. Guns raised, they all entered a small hallway leading to two different rooms, and a staircase to the second floor.
"He's gotta be upstairs, or else he would of heard us," Warrick whispered, receiving nods all around. The stairs led to three closed doors. Each one was opened quickly and stealthily, but it was the last one (go figure) that they heard the first sign of life.
"I don't care how this turns out. As long as you go down with me!"
"NOW!" Brass yelled as he slammed the door open.
Inside stood a man around 5'8", short brown hair and medium build. He was casually leaning against a large box in the middle of the room, much like the coffin Greg had been in earlier. The man jumped up as the door slammed against the wall.
"Christopher Jackson!" Brass yelled, gun raised, "You are under arrest!"
Chris laughed quietly as he looked at the four men, eyes falling on one in particular. "Well, well, Mr. Grissom. So good of you to join us. I was just telling Greg here a little story."
"Get away from the box," Warrick said, lowering his gun when he saw Chris' hands were empty. Nick did the same, but Grissom and Brass kept their guns trained on the psychotic man.
Chris shook his head. "You'll have to kill me first."
Nick glared evilly. "NOT a good thing to say in front of us man. Get away, or I will kill you myself."
"Nick," Grissom warned.
Just as Nick brought down his guard to look at his boss, Chris lunged past him and pulled Warrick to the ground. The two struggled furiously on the ground.
"Nick! Get to the box!" Grissom yelled as Brass jumped into the fight.
Nick immediately ran across the room and nearly fell on top of the box. "Greg?"
There was barely a hesitation as Greg yelled back. "Nick!"
"Don't worry Greg! We're here and we're not leaving without you!"
"Nick! Please, get me out of here! Please!"
Nick tried to lift the lid, but it wouldn't budge. The top had been padlocked to the bottom.
Greg's cries became frantic when he thought Nick was getting him out. "Nick! Please, don't leave me here! Get me out!" His words quickly became muffled as he was racked with horrible coughs.
Nick's eyes grew very wide, and his heart stopped. "Greg! Ya gotta settle down and conserve your air until I can get the key. Ya hear me Bud?"
The coughs continued for a little longer. "Nick, I can't breathe. Please, open the lid."
"Greg, please settle down. There is a lock on the lid, so I have to find the key. I'll get you out, but you've gotta calm down. Ya got it? Tell me!"
"I got it," Greg cried hoarsely.
Nick smiled, "Good job Greggo." He looked up and saw the other three, holding Chris handcuffed and sitting on his knees in front. "Where is the key?"
Chris grinned madly as he looked at Nick. "Nick Stokes. The best friend who invites Greg over for football games, or stops in the lab just to say 'hey'. You must be completely torn up by this. Greg is so close, you can almost touch him, but that box is in the way."
Nick growled as he lunged at Chris and punched him in the face.
"Woah! Slow down man!" Warrick yelled as he grabbed Nick by the shoulders and pulled him back.
"Where is the damn key?"
Chris grinned as he nodded to a desk drawer. "Take your pick."
Nick and Warrick ran to the drawer and groaned in protest. Inside was at least two dozen keys, all the exact same size.
"You've got to be kidding!" Warrick yelled, "Grissom! There are too many keys in here!"
Grissom ran up and looked at the keys for himself. "He's still toying with us."
THUMP THUMP "Nick! COUGH Nick, please! I can't breathe! COUGH."
"Please Greg, hold on!" Nick looked at Grissom, worry and fear flaring in his eyes.
Grissom immediately grabbed the entire drawer and carried it to the box. "Greg? Greg, listen to me. Take a deep breath, hold it and count to five, then let it go. All right? You need to slow your breathing and save any air left in there. You got it? Knock twice if you understand."
Pause.
THUMP…THUMP"Good job Greg. Nick, keep talking to him. Only questions he can answer by knocking."
Nick nodded as Grissom continued to look through the keys. "Greg, Grissom's looking for the right key. Ya gotta stay calm and answer my questions. You said your head was bleeding earlier; is it still? Knock once for no, two for yes."
THUMP…THUMP.
"Good job Greg. Is anything else hurt?"
THUMP…THUMP"Is that bleeding?"
THUMP…THUMP"All right Bud, you know we'll get you out. You know you can always trust your friends, right?"
Pause. THUMP…THUMP.
"Got it!" Grissom yelled as he snapped open the lock.
THUMP!"Hold on Greg, we got it!" Warrick yelled, trying to work the big lock off.
"That wasn't Greg."
All three CSI's looked quickly over to the door. Chris was standing over a motionless Brass, the captain's gun trained on Warrick. "Get away from the box."
"We're not letting you do this," Nick growled.
Chris aimed the gun at Nick now. "He ruined my life! He took BOTH my parents from me! He has to pay! Now get away!"
The three males sighed and slowly stood.
Greg began to bang frantically on the lid again. "Nick." The voice was very hoarse and raspy now. "Nick, open up…Grissom…COUGH…Warr-"
"Greg!" Warrick reached down to work on removing the lock again, but a gunshot split the corner of the box, the wood striking Warrick's hand. "AHH!"
"I said no touching! Greg isn't getting out of here alive!"
BANG!Nothing moved, until Chris' eyes suddenly rolled to the back of his head, and he fell to the ground. Brass had lifted himself to his shoulder, back-up gun still in the air.
Christopher Jackson had been shot in the chest, never to open his eyes again.
As soon as the initial shock had lifted, Nick flung around and worked the lock off the case. Warrick and Grissom each grabbed a corner and the three lifted the lid.
Inside laid their long lost friend and companion. Greg Sanders was ghost-white, except for the blood that covered his entire body. His head was carelessly wrapped in a simple cloth, having slowed the bleeding slightly. Red, angry gashes could be seen on both wrists and ankles, where the thick wire ties were still cutting into the tattered skin. But the thing that really caught their attention-
The young CSI wasn't breathing.
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And there it is! Greg has FINALLY been found after eight hours of pure torture and fear! I know that doesn't seem like too long, compared to how long Nick was in his box, but I didn't' think my story's plot took as long to play out. But you all don't seem to care about that much! I'm gonna follow through with my promise and update another chappie, but this will once again get me to the end of my notebook; so you'll all have to bear with me. KK, nuff talk, I'm headin for the next chappie.
C ya!
Kittyluv