Alvin POV
"So repeat the plan to me again!" I said, confused. Dave had called the police the second he had finished explaining a supposively simple plan to me and the others, not that I was really listening.
Dave slapped his forehead, "Try to listen this time Alvin!" he muttered, I crossed my arms. "First, we get the police to find the number that dialed us. Then we track the phone to Simon's location."
"Sound's so simple," I muttered darkly, I mean sure. I am the best chipmunk out of all of the chipmunks in the history of the universe; but I mean it's not like I am a super-hero or somin, it is clear this would be far easier said than done.
"I hope Simon is okay," Jeanette whispered, her worry showed in her voice. I was about to respond when a police officer entered the living room.
He looked at us with solomn eyes, his mouth was set in a grim line. Most people when they first meet us -despite the fact we're famous- are normally quite shocked when they realise no trickery is involved; that we are real, english speaking, american, singing chipmunks. However, this police officer didn't seem at all fazed by us, standing there on the kitchen desktop with sad faces.
He stared at us for a moment, before speaking in a serious tone, "We have found a lead, the phone is in Madison Square Gardens!"
X-X-X
Simon POV
Negro pushed me into a dark room, the only light came from a small candle in the corner of the room, and oil dripped from the crumbling ceiling, onto the cold, stone floor.
Near the flickering candle, a rack stood tall.
I gave it a look of horror, as Negro pushed me towards it. Sahir sat in the gloom that covered most of the room and Jack sat on the chair next to the crank. I stumbled under the force of Negro's push, and Negro and Jack began fastening me to the torture device. I struggled beneath the bonds, I have read many books on Racks.
A Rack is a torture device, it consistes of a rectangualar table-slightly raised from the ground- and two rollers either end. The victim's (in this case, me) ankles are attached to one roller, an wrist's to the other. Then a person turns the crank, and the victim is streached, causing terrible pain, this normally continues intill every bone in the victim's body is in shatters.
Negro gave me a look that sent shivers down my spine, "This is going to be fun!"
Oh no, SIMON RRUUUUNNN
This story is nearly over :( (short story I know, but do you honestly want Simon to suffer longer?) But don't worry, there is still quite a bit left.
Please review, it keeps me writing