They Claim They're Immortal

I woke up violently only to find myself strapped down to a foreign bed. I knew it wasn't mine because mine wasn't nearly as big or as soft. I normally liked my mattresses more on the firm side, but this bed felt like a dream. Not the time to be thinking about that, I chided myself with a scowl.

I tugged at my wrists finding them immobile, I looked down at my ankles and found them restrained too. Oh and let's not forget the two leather belts strapped across my waist. I took a quick scan of the room only to find it almost bare. The bed and a mahogany coloured dresser being the only items in the room.

I sighed in defeat. I knew when I'd been beat. There wasn't anything sharp in my reach so I couldn't get out of these bonds. At least they'd had the decency to strap me to the bed. With magnificent pillows that felt like clouds. Not the time or place, Jessica.

I went over what had happened that led up to me being in this situation. They'd stabbed something into my neck. Most likely a sedative maybe a tranquilizer dart, I rationalized. I let out my breath slowly and looked up at the eggshell white ceiling thinking the answer to my problems would be written in the paint. But no. Unfortunately the answer to my problems didn't magically appear.

Look on the bright side, Hayes. At least they didn't gag you. That was a good thing. If I'd heard anybody nearing this room I could always scream for help.

"I am not okay with this," I heard someone say.

"Well, we didn't have much of a choice, Saint Kathros."

"On the contrary, Salvatoré, we did. We could have befriended the girl, explained to her what was going on, and then-"

"Then we could get our asses thrown into some dingy jail cell. There's no way she would've just accepted the fact that we're never gonna die. And how exactly would we have befriended her? Jake isn't exactly the most gallant or charming demon around, I'm a vampire, Kyle's a smelly little mutt, and you can fly with those angel wings of yours. We wouldn't have been the most popular group of friends around," I heard.

"While we're on the topic of gallant and charming, do you really think sinking your teeth into her neck was a proper introduction? I mean, the least you could've done was said hello first," another voice piped up.

"Because that would've ended well also. 'Hello, my name's Tyler Salvatoré and I'm about to sink my fangs into your neck'."

"I could have charmed her," the previous voice said.

"Well, why didn't you?" I recognized that voice! Burnt Bobby! Why isn't he dead? He should be dead.

"Nobody told me to."

"Did you need an invitation, Aaron?" Okay, so now I know three of the four kidnappers names. OK, so Burnt Bobby wasn't exactly a 'name', more of an endearment. "Well we really didn't have much time for us make a card. All you had to do was say so and work your disturbing angel powers."

Jesus Christ, these people were mentally unstable, I thought horrified. I need to get out of here. I looked around, a little hysterical now. What would Bruce Willis do? I mused. Well, he'd probably find his way out of these restraints somehow, go kick those psychos' asses, and look good doing it. So I was kind of a Bruce Willis fan, sue me. But I was no Bruce Willis so there probably wasn't going to be any ass kicking on my part. I sighed again. For what? The hundredth time? I think I might have a sighing problem.

"...and she isn't even aware of it yet." Isn't aware of what exactly? If I hadn't been too engrossed in my thoughts I might've caught the beginning of that topic. "It's best we... She's awake."

Uh, no she's not. I tried to fall asleep again. Maybe I was dreaming again. That had to be it! I mean, reality is never this weird. Sure, okay, so sometimes life had its moments but to hear people claiming they were immortal? They could fly? A smelly little mutt? A vampire? Oh and a demon. I let out a sarcastic laugh. Highly unlikely.

There was crazy and then there was bat shit crazy. They had obviously crossed both lines. Now they just barely breached mentally sick in the head. I wouldn't be surprised if they told me they were also serial killers along with kidnappers. The only other bright side of this situation besides the whole not being gagged thing, was the fact that they weren't offering me up to some imaginary God as a human sacrifice. I'd never heard of something like that happening in my city–assuming I was still there–but you could never be too careful.

There was no way I'd go back to sleep in this situation, plus my thoughts were jumping to the worst possible options so that didn't help much either. I looked down my body to the foot of the bed to see if there was maybe something I could grab with my toes but what I saw horrified me. I was practically nude! Why I didn't notice until now worried me but not as much as being in my underwear did.

Holy shit, what if I actually was part of some human sacrifice mumbo jumobo crap? My eyes widened at the thought and I started to struggle more violently against my bonds. I heard a slight crack then footsteps. I pulled harder and almost cried out in pain when my wrist slipped through one of the ropes. I took a second to look over my wrist and grimaced. My wrist was broken but I needed to untie myself and get these leather straps off me.

I bit my tongue as I untied my uninjured wrist, my adrenaline pumping and pain coursing through my arm. I had to stop for a moment and take a deep breath to compose myself. I took a fleeting look towards the door noticing that I didn't hear footsteps anymore. Shit, shit, shit. Soon as I got that wrist untied I quickly undid the leather straps and the ropes tied around my ankles.

I practically threw myself out of the bed but collapsed to the ground when I found that my legs could hardly even carry my weight. The sprained ankle didn't help much either. I at least had the sense to make sure I didn't land on my injured wrist. If there truly is a God, I sincerely apologize for all my sins and...stuff. Just please let me be able to get up and get myself the...heck outta here. It wasn't the best attempt at praying but I figured it was as good as any.

The door suddenly burst open and I held my breath. I was on the other side of the bed, facing the window so I rolled under the bed and hoped that they wouldn't find me. OK, so, please just keep me from being found. I wasn't exactly born a Christian but I could always convert.

"Well, at least she's close by," I heard someone say. Tyler, I think his name was. "Go ahead, sniff her out." I almost laughed at that because I knew he was joking. Or, I think he was.

"What am I, a search and rescue dog?" somebody muttered.

"Close to it," Tyler said, his tone teasing.

I heard the sound of somebody sniffing the air followed by an unimpressed sigh. "She's under the bed."

Oh no! Abort mission! Abort, abort, abort! I was about to roll out from under the bed and snatch up whatever was nearest to use as a weapon but I was stopped by somebody getting down on their hands and knees peering at me with their striking green eyes. I weighed my options. I could either attack their face or I could go quietly and save myself some energy that I could possibly use later for, say, another attempt at an escape.

Option one seemed the most reasonable. It was only partially reasonable because I was pissed and I needed to lash out and partially because it was what it was. Reasonable. I pulled my leg back as far as I could–which wasn't easy under a bed–and kicked them as hard as I could. Green eyes – which I decided to call him because I didn't know his name – pulled back and cried out. "She just punched me!" I heard which was followed by, "Dammit! I think she broke my nose!"

I was just about to soak in pride and all the crap when suddenly a hand grasped my ankle tightly – the sprained one, no less – and pulled me out from under the bed. I started screaming and kicking at the hand but they had a firm grip. All the while, they dodged every kick as if they were anticipating it.

I wanted to cry in pain but there was no way I'd cry in front of these people. They'd probably get some sick sense of satisfaction over it. Then they'd dress me up in virginal white clothes and offer me up to their imaginary gods like I was a plate of filet mignon. You'll be fine, they're not gonna use you as some human sacrifice.

My attempts to get my captor to let me go halted as the foreign voice rang through my mind. Excuse me? Is this my conscious?

I could almost feel them rolling their eyes. This was definitely not my conscious. No, not necessarily a conscious. Think of me as your inner you. Except not you. Just inner.

That was a very lame attempt at a description, I thought with a scowl. Then I scowled again when I realized I must be going crazy. I mean, I was having a conversation with my... head? Then I noticed I was almost completely dragged out from under the bed so I grabbed onto one of the legs of the bed with my OK arm and held on. My kidnapper stumbled back and let go and I landed with a thud and a sharp cry of pain.

I hadn't expected him to let go so I wasn't able to save me the pain of my sprained ankle hitting the floor. Hard. So now, my broken arm was throbbing, my ankle was throbbing, and, actually, my whole right side was throbbing. The last thing I saw was four impossibly attractive faces. Then I passed out. Again.