Robbie laughed loudly, his glee echoing through his home, as the computer he'd built told him that the shot had been fired. Creating a hologram of one of the brats screaming for help had been a stroke of pure genius!
"I'll bet he didn't even stop to take a proper look at that garage," he said to himself. "He probably just charged in there like he always does!"
Now the reinforced metal door was shut fast. It was so heavy that no one except Sportacus would be able to lift it without using Robbie's remote control, and Sportacus certainly wouldn't be in any condition to do any heavy lifting... It had been easy to mount a pistol behind one of the walls. He'd rigged it so that when someone stepped into the trap a panel would slide back, and the gun would fire a syringe of a solution so sugary it was sure to send the man into a sugar coma. He'd even made sure to plant a camera equipped with night vision in one corner so he could watch the whole thing, even in the darkness of the windowless garage.
"Don't worry, Sportafreak," he said as he tapped a few buttons to call up the footage. "I won't leave you in there forever - just for a few days. When everyone notices you're missing, I'll force the mayor to sign a new law banishing you from LazyTown forever! He'll have to do it if they want to save you, and in the mean time, I can enjoy some peace and quiet."
He pressed 'play,' and let out a yelp at what he saw.
"What's that Pink Cheerleader doing there?! She's going to ruin everything!"
He watched as they were both trapped, and the gun fired. The hero went down almost instantly.
"Oh, this is perfect!" Robbie crowed. "She's trapped, too! That gives me even more leverage against the mayor. He'll never let anything happen to his precious niece."
Turning back to the computer screen, Robbie noticed Stephanie crying for help.
"Scream all you want," he said to her image. "No one will be able to hear you there."
"Sportacus?" Stephanie screamed into the pitch blackness. "Sportacus, answer me!"
She rummaged frantically in the pink purse she had slung over her shoulder, trying to find her cell phone. As soon as her fingers closed around it, she brought it out and turned it on, flooding the space with a dim light. Her eyes were instantly drawn to her fallen friend. He was sprawled on the floor, flat on his back and unmoving.
"Sportacus!" She dropped to her knees beside him and shook him by the shoulders. When she received no response, she immediately checked for a pulse and found that it was slow but steady, just like his breathing.
"Please wake up," she whispered pleadingly. She could feel tears prickling at her eyes as she tapped his cheek gently with her fingers and still elicited no response.
Stephanie shook herself angrily. This was no time to cry! She began to carefully check Sportacus over for any injuries and came upon the syringe sticking into one of his arms. Pulling it out, she examined it in the light from her cellphone. It was nearly empty, but she saw that there was still a little bit of dark purple liquid inside.
She noticed that a small trickle of blood had run down the unconscious man's arm where the syringe was pulled out. Hastily, she grabbed a tissue from her purse, pressing it to the tiny wound and holding it there, waiting for the blood to clot.
While she did this she held her phone out and used its light to survey their surroundings. The garage was lined with metal, and the door looked heavy and immovable. The fake Ziggy was gone, and the only other thing in the room with them was a camera mounted in one corner near the ceiling. A chill went through her at the thought that this was all a trap and that whoever set it was watching them.
Stephanie dug a band-aid out of her purse for Sportacus's arm. She blushed slightly when she realized that the only ones she had left had pink hearts on them.
Sitting back on her heels, Stephanie checked her phone and discovered that she had no reception. The feeling of hopelessness was beginning to fill her chest, and she wasn't sure what else she could do. Sportacus was out cold from whatever had been in that syringe.
She made her way over to the metal door, pushing at it with all her might, but it wouldn't even budge. She doubted she'd ever be able to lift it, even if she ate some sports candy. Her only hope was that maybe if she screamed and pounded on the door, someone nearby would hear and go for help. Turning off her phone to conserve the battery, Stephanie stood in the darkness and pounded on the door as hard as she could, screaming for help at the top of her lungs.
A/N: Please, please, please review! It's great inspiration!