Status: Updating slowly.
Kidnapped by A Predator
Taken
Prologue
The future isn’t set in stone, though some might try and tell you different. It is always changing, always moving, based on what people decide. We find some object or life form interesting, and we get curious so we do some research then some of us choose to go down a similar path. Though more often than not, we die in our attempts at vanity, and our efforts that we have made or have put in to action become futile. Some of us have a general idea of what we want from life, and for some, we don’t. I was one of the few who was thought and had thought that I would not be successful in my venue. But I never thought that I would die in agony, especially, not by the gloves of my lover. I had always imagined it more tranquil, peaceful even, but never violently. Perhaps Death would take me in my sleep the way one would a lover. Or maybe it would be quick and painless, as the way a needle would enter your flesh. I had never imagined finding love, nor had I even believed in the reality of love or they well known fact that projected itself from movies and such and it wasn’t extinct; I stubbornly insisted on continuing to live in the world of the nonexistent. I had never tried to find love, but love had persisted, and found me. Technically I should be graciously overjoyed but alas, I was not. Everyone believes that destiny and love are one of the same. If a person had suggested such a ridiculous idea such as that one had been, I would have scoffed in their face at the prospect. However, it wasn’t until that day that I had been made a believer of fated destiny.
Chapter One: Taken
To every teen this would sound very unbecoming and morally dumb and boring. Be that as it may, our supposed “dull” town, and its few inhabitants, were actually quite filled with life, although one would never suspect it. Though we were rather indisposed, mainly keeping to ourselves, and noticeably small, where all the townies knew about so in so’s business, where the cheapest produce could be found, or what the McKinney’s had chosen for their latest adventure was. I must say, the little town of Hebrokee was very content. But the most interesting gossip, but the least talked of, and rarely heard or seen, was the Mattinton’s son, Rebel Mattinson, who was adopted. He was viewed as different, and the residents of Hebrokee highly disapproved of him, both his looks and his attitude. “That boy is trouble, and nothing but it,” they would say. Of course, there was one other who was seen differently as well, but the townspeople never spoke of it, at least, not publically. For the person they spoke of was Lakota Lovell, the Police Chief’s one and only daughter. They lived alone in a small cabin on the outskirts of town for Dirk Lovell’s wife had died the past year. It was considered a freak accident, but that would be brutal, so we will call it an unfortunate tragedy. She had been seen going in the woods, but never seen coming out. They searched and searched but only chunks of her mangled body had been recovered. Needless to say, the Lovell family was devastated by their loss. Marina Lovell was a very kind-hearted woman, and stood up for the beliefs of others. The cause of her death was assumed to be by a bear attack. But that wasn’t the case at all, in fact, all bears were in hibernation at the time, but the townsfolk, never thought of that, and one very vital person to this story had to leave Hebrokee, and that is where our story begins.
It was late at night when I had finally crawled into my warm bed. I was excited that I had been given a six month vacation by my boss. Told me I deserved it he said. His wife, Lauren Cook, was with child and she had been placed on maternal leave for the rest of the summer. I was so excited in fact, that I could not sleep. When morning came, I changed my clothes to something dark and dreary, and made my way to the local grocery store in town.
I had to pick up a few key ingredients for our meal tonight. It had to be extra special, for my father, Dirk Lovell, was inviting a few guests, and it was important to be as formal and gracious even if you didn’t like them, as you could be. In Hebrokee, it was a sign of respect. Personally, I never liked all these traditions, nor did I like the town. It was small, too small for my tastes. I finally arrived at my destination and got out after unbuckling my car seat. I left the keys in the car, with the engine running, it was an outdoor market and we never had anything bad in this town happen, so it wasn’t a problem.
I slammed my beat up, dirt encrusted, red pickup door, and slung my bag over my neck and shoulder. I found the three items I was wanting, so I made my purchases, and headed back to the truck. I had set the groceries in the backseat, and had just closed the door when screams and yells loudly echoed from behind me. I turned on my heel just in time to get thrown in the truck, and before I knew it, the truck was kicking up dust and I was flying out of town. Once I had calmed down enough, I looked over to see who had kidnapped me. I couldn’t see the person’s face because of all the black hair that whipped around their head. I saw some sort of metal in his right earlobe, on his lip, and through his wild hair, I could see some metal where his eyebrows were at. At this, I knew it could be no other than Rebel Mattinson. He’s the only one that’s not from here, besides me.
“What did you do?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t want to die; I heard this boy had quite the temper. He glared at me then spoke harshly. “None of your business, it doesn’t concern you.” I was taken aback at his daft attitude. After that, I made no move to speak again. We rode in silence.
“Get out.” He growled at me. I glanced around to see that we had parked somewhere in the woods miles from town, miles from anywhere actually. And I liked it. “Get out I said.” I gave him a look. “I’m going, sheesh.” I hopped out of the passenger window; the right side door was broken. He fetched a brown paper bag from the bed, as well as the one I bought. “Here,” he tossed the bags at me, which I caught with ease, which was a shock to me since I was never good with aim. I was a total fail at football. “Go put those in the fridge. I have work to do. Stay in there, and don’t leave. I’ll know if you do.” My eyes widened and I nodded.
He gave me a hard look, as if he didn’t trust me. I didn’t blame him. He didn’t know me, why should he trust me? Then, he went around back. I sighed and started up the rickety wooden stairs. I almost tripped, but I caught myself on the rail, which broke under me, making me fall to the ground. I cried out when my foot hit the ground. I twisted around to see my ankle sticking out at an odd angle, and my foot bent nearly backwards. I tried not puke at the gruesome scene before me. I tried to haul myself to my feet, but standing on one foot and balancing heavy bags, was not easy or very well coordinated for a person like me.
I heard a sigh from behind me as I collapsed to the ground. I was pulled to my feet by arms around my waist. Suddenly I was swooped off the ground. “You are more trouble than you’re worth. Come on Food.” He climbed up the porch without using the stairs. He tossed me on the couch and I about screamed when my oddly proportioned foot hit the coffee table.
“Be quiet, you are giving me a headache with your constant screaming. Shut up.” He spoke to me gruffly. I shot him a look but it didn’t last long as he approached me with a knife, a lemon, and a towel. I stared at him in fear, imagining the worst. “W-what are you doing?” I stuttered out. He raised an eyebrow apprehensively. “I’m going to fix your foot.” He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Kneeling, he handed me the towel, and pulled the knife out of its sheath. He made a quick slice on my foot, as well as the lemon. He squeezed the lemon making some of the juice drop onto the wound, entering inside the flesh. I watched him curiously.
I looked at him odd when he stared at my foot eyeing the blood that dripped off of my ankle to the wooden floorboards beneath. He swabbed some of the blood off with his finger, and then licked it. He looked like in was in Heaven as his eyes closed. “Your blood tastes . . . sweet.” He opened his eyes on the last word and grinned like a maniac. He held the towel out to me. “Wad it into a ball; you’ll want to bite it.” I watched and waited warily, was he gripped my Achilles heel, and yanked hard to the right. I screamed as I had never screamed before. I felt like I was dying. I had bit down on the towel a long time ago, and I screamed and hollered and yelled into the towel, I did everything I could to express my undesirable agony. “Sorry.” He muttered to me quietly. “I know it hurts.” I stopped my screaming and stared at him in utter shock and amazement. It was the first sign of sympathy he’d shown me all day.
He must have felt my eyes boring holes into his head, for he looked up and he rolled his eyes at my expression. “No worries, Food. I only said that to shut you up. It’s not like I actually care. I’m going to eat you, and then I will be set for a couple of months before I have to go find my next victim.” He grinned wildly, his eyes glinting from the light in the room, reflecting his madness. I looked at him sadly. “Are you really going to eat me?” he nodded. “I am, but I’ll wait until your foot heals. It will take a couple of weeks, but it will heal. Human flesh tastes nasty with all those medicines in the bloodstream.” He made a disgusted face at the prospect, and I laughed. He was adorable. He looked up at me and gave me a confused look. I blushed.
“Did I say that out loud?” He nodded and I groaned. “Sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to.” He grinned. “No worries Food. It’s cool. It’s a compliment. Don’t remember the last time I got one of those.” I smiled shyly, and then frowned. “Did you just call me . . . food?” he looked at me strangely. “I’ve been calling you Food. Why should I learn you name when that is what you will soon be?” I felt something slide around my wrist. I looked down at the object when I heard it make a clicking sound. I saw some rope and the thing that encircled my wrist was a pair of handcuffs. The other end was attached to the rope. He picked me up again and laid me on the floor. “That’s where you are sleeping.” Rebel tied the rope to the bed legs.
“What are you doing?” he smiled at me. “What? You didn’t actually think I would let you run away now?” I look down and sighed while he laughed. He climbed in bed. “Good night, Rebel,” I whispered sleepily as the lemon stuff started kicking in. He remained silent. I had almost drifted off into sleep before I realized something.
What would Rebel do to me if he found out about the nightmares?
The future isn’t set in stone, though some might try and tell you different. It is always changing, always moving, based on what people decide. We find some object or life form interesting, and we get curious so we do some research then some of us choose to go down a similar path. Though more often than not, we die in our attempts at vanity, and our efforts that we have made or have put in to action become futile. Some of us have a general idea of what we want from life, and for some, we don’t. I was one of the few who was thought and had thought that I would not be successful in my venue. But I never thought that I would die in agony, especially, not by the gloves of my lover. I had always imagined it more tranquil, peaceful even, but never violently. Perhaps Death would take me in my sleep the way one would a lover. Or maybe it would be quick and painless, as the way a needle would enter your flesh. I had never imagined finding love, nor had I even believed in the reality of love or they well known fact that projected itself from movies and such and it wasn’t extinct; I stubbornly insisted on continuing to live in the world of the nonexistent. I had never tried to find love, but love had persisted, and found me. Technically I should be graciously overjoyed but alas, I was not. Everyone believes that destiny and love are one of the same. If a person had suggested such a ridiculous idea such as that one had been, I would have scoffed in their face at the prospect. However, it wasn’t until that day that I had been made a believer of fated destiny.
Chapter One: Taken
To every teen this would sound very unbecoming and morally dumb and boring. Be that as it may, our supposed “dull” town, and its few inhabitants, were actually quite filled with life, although one would never suspect it. Though we were rather indisposed, mainly keeping to ourselves, and noticeably small, where all the townies knew about so in so’s business, where the cheapest produce could be found, or what the McKinney’s had chosen for their latest adventure was. I must say, the little town of Hebrokee was very content. But the most interesting gossip, but the least talked of, and rarely heard or seen, was the Mattinton’s son, Rebel Mattinson, who was adopted. He was viewed as different, and the residents of Hebrokee highly disapproved of him, both his looks and his attitude. “That boy is trouble, and nothing but it,” they would say. Of course, there was one other who was seen differently as well, but the townspeople never spoke of it, at least, not publically. For the person they spoke of was Lakota Lovell, the Police Chief’s one and only daughter. They lived alone in a small cabin on the outskirts of town for Dirk Lovell’s wife had died the past year. It was considered a freak accident, but that would be brutal, so we will call it an unfortunate tragedy. She had been seen going in the woods, but never seen coming out. They searched and searched but only chunks of her mangled body had been recovered. Needless to say, the Lovell family was devastated by their loss. Marina Lovell was a very kind-hearted woman, and stood up for the beliefs of others. The cause of her death was assumed to be by a bear attack. But that wasn’t the case at all, in fact, all bears were in hibernation at the time, but the townsfolk, never thought of that, and one very vital person to this story had to leave Hebrokee, and that is where our story begins.
It was late at night when I had finally crawled into my warm bed. I was excited that I had been given a six month vacation by my boss. Told me I deserved it he said. His wife, Lauren Cook, was with child and she had been placed on maternal leave for the rest of the summer. I was so excited in fact, that I could not sleep. When morning came, I changed my clothes to something dark and dreary, and made my way to the local grocery store in town.
I had to pick up a few key ingredients for our meal tonight. It had to be extra special, for my father, Dirk Lovell, was inviting a few guests, and it was important to be as formal and gracious even if you didn’t like them, as you could be. In Hebrokee, it was a sign of respect. Personally, I never liked all these traditions, nor did I like the town. It was small, too small for my tastes. I finally arrived at my destination and got out after unbuckling my car seat. I left the keys in the car, with the engine running, it was an outdoor market and we never had anything bad in this town happen, so it wasn’t a problem.
I slammed my beat up, dirt encrusted, red pickup door, and slung my bag over my neck and shoulder. I found the three items I was wanting, so I made my purchases, and headed back to the truck. I had set the groceries in the backseat, and had just closed the door when screams and yells loudly echoed from behind me. I turned on my heel just in time to get thrown in the truck, and before I knew it, the truck was kicking up dust and I was flying out of town. Once I had calmed down enough, I looked over to see who had kidnapped me. I couldn’t see the person’s face because of all the black hair that whipped around their head. I saw some sort of metal in his right earlobe, on his lip, and through his wild hair, I could see some metal where his eyebrows were at. At this, I knew it could be no other than Rebel Mattinson. He’s the only one that’s not from here, besides me.
“What did you do?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t want to die; I heard this boy had quite the temper. He glared at me then spoke harshly. “None of your business, it doesn’t concern you.” I was taken aback at his daft attitude. After that, I made no move to speak again. We rode in silence.
“Get out.” He growled at me. I glanced around to see that we had parked somewhere in the woods miles from town, miles from anywhere actually. And I liked it. “Get out I said.” I gave him a look. “I’m going, sheesh.” I hopped out of the passenger window; the right side door was broken. He fetched a brown paper bag from the bed, as well as the one I bought. “Here,” he tossed the bags at me, which I caught with ease, which was a shock to me since I was never good with aim. I was a total fail at football. “Go put those in the fridge. I have work to do. Stay in there, and don’t leave. I’ll know if you do.” My eyes widened and I nodded.
He gave me a hard look, as if he didn’t trust me. I didn’t blame him. He didn’t know me, why should he trust me? Then, he went around back. I sighed and started up the rickety wooden stairs. I almost tripped, but I caught myself on the rail, which broke under me, making me fall to the ground. I cried out when my foot hit the ground. I twisted around to see my ankle sticking out at an odd angle, and my foot bent nearly backwards. I tried not puke at the gruesome scene before me. I tried to haul myself to my feet, but standing on one foot and balancing heavy bags, was not easy or very well coordinated for a person like me.
I heard a sigh from behind me as I collapsed to the ground. I was pulled to my feet by arms around my waist. Suddenly I was swooped off the ground. “You are more trouble than you’re worth. Come on Food.” He climbed up the porch without using the stairs. He tossed me on the couch and I about screamed when my oddly proportioned foot hit the coffee table.
“Be quiet, you are giving me a headache with your constant screaming. Shut up.” He spoke to me gruffly. I shot him a look but it didn’t last long as he approached me with a knife, a lemon, and a towel. I stared at him in fear, imagining the worst. “W-what are you doing?” I stuttered out. He raised an eyebrow apprehensively. “I’m going to fix your foot.” He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Kneeling, he handed me the towel, and pulled the knife out of its sheath. He made a quick slice on my foot, as well as the lemon. He squeezed the lemon making some of the juice drop onto the wound, entering inside the flesh. I watched him curiously.
I looked at him odd when he stared at my foot eyeing the blood that dripped off of my ankle to the wooden floorboards beneath. He swabbed some of the blood off with his finger, and then licked it. He looked like in was in Heaven as his eyes closed. “Your blood tastes . . . sweet.” He opened his eyes on the last word and grinned like a maniac. He held the towel out to me. “Wad it into a ball; you’ll want to bite it.” I watched and waited warily, was he gripped my Achilles heel, and yanked hard to the right. I screamed as I had never screamed before. I felt like I was dying. I had bit down on the towel a long time ago, and I screamed and hollered and yelled into the towel, I did everything I could to express my undesirable agony. “Sorry.” He muttered to me quietly. “I know it hurts.” I stopped my screaming and stared at him in utter shock and amazement. It was the first sign of sympathy he’d shown me all day.
He must have felt my eyes boring holes into his head, for he looked up and he rolled his eyes at my expression. “No worries, Food. I only said that to shut you up. It’s not like I actually care. I’m going to eat you, and then I will be set for a couple of months before I have to go find my next victim.” He grinned wildly, his eyes glinting from the light in the room, reflecting his madness. I looked at him sadly. “Are you really going to eat me?” he nodded. “I am, but I’ll wait until your foot heals. It will take a couple of weeks, but it will heal. Human flesh tastes nasty with all those medicines in the bloodstream.” He made a disgusted face at the prospect, and I laughed. He was adorable. He looked up at me and gave me a confused look. I blushed.
“Did I say that out loud?” He nodded and I groaned. “Sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to.” He grinned. “No worries Food. It’s cool. It’s a compliment. Don’t remember the last time I got one of those.” I smiled shyly, and then frowned. “Did you just call me . . . food?” he looked at me strangely. “I’ve been calling you Food. Why should I learn you name when that is what you will soon be?” I felt something slide around my wrist. I looked down at the object when I heard it make a clicking sound. I saw some rope and the thing that encircled my wrist was a pair of handcuffs. The other end was attached to the rope. He picked me up again and laid me on the floor. “That’s where you are sleeping.” Rebel tied the rope to the bed legs.
“What are you doing?” he smiled at me. “What? You didn’t actually think I would let you run away now?” I look down and sighed while he laughed. He climbed in bed. “Good night, Rebel,” I whispered sleepily as the lemon stuff started kicking in. He remained silent. I had almost drifted off into sleep before I realized something.
What would Rebel do to me if he found out about the nightmares?
♠ ♠ ♠
What do you think?