Status: Getting there :)
Dancing Dead
Prologue
Pain. Pain everywhere. And light. But I can't open my eyes. I can't move, I can't breathe. It's like I'm completely frozen and defenseless. Voices become clearer, and I feel cold. I'm lying on something cold. A metal table of some sort. I concentrate on the voices.
"He's here," one says.
"Zack, open the door," another says. The door opens and someone walks in.
"How many," someone else says, sounding a bit demanding. His voice is smooth, but he sounds like he's walking away from me.
"Two. A father and daughter. He killed her and then himself," a new voice says.
"How old is he?"
"33. She's 14." Footsteps come closer to me until they sound like one of the men stopped right next to me. I feel fingertips drift along my bare stomach. I concentrate harder and realize I am wearing only a bra and panties.
"She's a pretty little piece, ain't she," the smooth voice says. He removes his hand from my stomach and sighs, walking away from me again. I hear what sounds like wire hangers being pushed to the side on a metal clothes rack. One hanger is taken off. "She'll become fully conscious in about fifteen minutes, I'll wait here. You guys go back to the cemetery and make sure no one does anything stupid." Nothing is said as the other men leave. The man that stayed waits patiently as I regain my ability to move. I open my eyes and see nothing but a ceiling.
"Hey, baby doll," the man says as he walks over and stands over me. He's wearing a fedora and sunglasses, and he has black hair that goes to about his shoulders. "I've been waiting for you to wake up." I don't say anything and I just stare at him. He stares back but steps back after a few seconds. He grabs something off a counter and looks back at me. "Put this on." I keep staring at him until he gets an annoyed look on his face. He slips his arm underneath my shoulders and lifts me so I'm sitting up. He holds out a dress and shoes. "Put it on. Now." The way he said that... the tone of it told me he'd do something if I didn't. Something bad.
I stand up slowly and take the clothes from him, gently pulling the dress on and slipping my feet into the shoes. He looks me over, taking his time to make sure I look just right. He smirks and walks over so he's standing right in front of me. He places his hands my hips, but I back up to the metal table. He follows me, and tightens his grip. I look down as his hands move to my lower back and he pulls me closer.
"What's your name," he whispers.
"A-Annabelle," I stutter shakily. His smirk grows wider.
"We're going to get along, Annabelle." He lets go but takes my hand, leading me out of the room and to the parking lot. "Time to take you home."
"He's here," one says.
"Zack, open the door," another says. The door opens and someone walks in.
"How many," someone else says, sounding a bit demanding. His voice is smooth, but he sounds like he's walking away from me.
"Two. A father and daughter. He killed her and then himself," a new voice says.
"How old is he?"
"33. She's 14." Footsteps come closer to me until they sound like one of the men stopped right next to me. I feel fingertips drift along my bare stomach. I concentrate harder and realize I am wearing only a bra and panties.
"She's a pretty little piece, ain't she," the smooth voice says. He removes his hand from my stomach and sighs, walking away from me again. I hear what sounds like wire hangers being pushed to the side on a metal clothes rack. One hanger is taken off. "She'll become fully conscious in about fifteen minutes, I'll wait here. You guys go back to the cemetery and make sure no one does anything stupid." Nothing is said as the other men leave. The man that stayed waits patiently as I regain my ability to move. I open my eyes and see nothing but a ceiling.
"Hey, baby doll," the man says as he walks over and stands over me. He's wearing a fedora and sunglasses, and he has black hair that goes to about his shoulders. "I've been waiting for you to wake up." I don't say anything and I just stare at him. He stares back but steps back after a few seconds. He grabs something off a counter and looks back at me. "Put this on." I keep staring at him until he gets an annoyed look on his face. He slips his arm underneath my shoulders and lifts me so I'm sitting up. He holds out a dress and shoes. "Put it on. Now." The way he said that... the tone of it told me he'd do something if I didn't. Something bad.
I stand up slowly and take the clothes from him, gently pulling the dress on and slipping my feet into the shoes. He looks me over, taking his time to make sure I look just right. He smirks and walks over so he's standing right in front of me. He places his hands my hips, but I back up to the metal table. He follows me, and tightens his grip. I look down as his hands move to my lower back and he pulls me closer.
"What's your name," he whispers.
"A-Annabelle," I stutter shakily. His smirk grows wider.
"We're going to get along, Annabelle." He lets go but takes my hand, leading me out of the room and to the parking lot. "Time to take you home."
♠ ♠ ♠
New story :D should I keep going? Thanks for reading!<3 - Katelyn