And Then There Was One

Tyler Seguin walked by a massive vertical mirror in Brad Marchand’s room. He fluffed out his hair with his fingers, which was already somewhat messy, as he stared into a mirror. He struck different poses, admiring himself. “You get all the female fans, don’t ya?” Tyler purred, as he shook his head to the side and then smiled largely at his reflection, who grinned back.

Behind him, Brad Marchand had entered the room and he stood, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door and raised an eyebrow. He situated himself, folding his arms across his chest, before leaning against the frame again. “Tyler, really?” Brad sighed, rolling his eyes. “You look at yourself in the mirror more than Patrick Kane or any woman does!”

“I do not.”

“You know it and you do.”

“I do not.”

“You love yourself, Segsy!” Brad pressed, chuckling to himself. “You can’t walk by a mirror without taking a look. You love yourself more than anyone I’ve ever met!”

“But----” Tyler started to bicker, “Yeah, I guess you’re right!”

“I know I’m right. I’m always right!” Brad began to laugh at his own words, thinking himself funny and clever. He was pumping his own tires. “By the way, where is your shirt?”

“Stripped it off!” Tyler frowned into the mirror, making his reflection frown as well.

“Segsy, buddy, you really got to give the mirror a break,” Brad cleverly remarked, striking a pose with his hands on his hips now.

“Shut up, Marchy!”

“What?! The poor mirror can’t stand to look at your person for more than four times in a day.”

“Hey….!”

Brad stepped into the room. “Literally every time you come in here and walk by that mirror or any mirror in general, you have to stop and take a peek.”

“Marchy!” Tyler continued to complain.

“I mean what would your girlfriend say?”

“Alright, Marchy, I think you’ve had enough fun----”

“Just one last thing. Segs…you’re perfect the way you are and you don’t need to have a mirror image to tell you that; seriously you can leave the mirror alone and it won’t hurt your real image at all!”

“Really?” Tyler questioned, starting to beam.

“Of course, buddy. Though it may harm your ego, affecting your puck play a little bit...” Brad broke into another fit of laughter.

Tyler bit his lip, shaking his head. He had to laugh with his friend though. It was true. “Oh, Marchy!”

Brad and Tyler embraced one another. After a few seconds, they broke apart and faced one another.

“So, what were you doing in here, anyway? I was wondering where you’d vanished to!”

“I thought I heard a noise coming from your bedroom. I wanted to investigate. Some female jumped on top of me and made out. She was drunk off her ass man, but damn was she fine!”

“Segs, you got to be on your guard though.”

“Well, she streaked out, screaming and I happened to get lost at the handsome man staring back at me in the mirror!”

“Oh, Tyler, as Thorty would say, ‘you’re a special breed’!” Brad broke out in laughter again.

“Let’s get back to the party, Marchy! I need another beer!” Tyler stated. “Let me grab my shirt first, otherwise I’ll get attacked by all the women out there!”

Brad began to head toward the exit of his room. He halted, frowning when he didn’t hear Tyler with him. The enjoyment disappeared from his face at once, as he spun around and turned pale.

Tyler was struggling in the grasp of a masked men, who held him. One gloved hand was clamped over his mouth, muffling his screams, while the other hand wrenched the ex-Bruin’s arm up his back, painfully.

“Segs!” Brad shouted, petrified.

Another masked man, identical to the other, joined the scene. He withdrew a coil of rope and a suspicious roll of black tape. The first one slammed Tyler onto Brad’s king-sized mattress, rather roughly. The young twenty-two year old male struggled, jerking himself around and making it rather difficult for the men to grip him, securely.

Brad stood frozen in place for a few seconds, before he mustered the courage to help out his friend. He rushed forward, narrowing his eyes in anger and jumped the second man, who was beginning to uncoil a strand of rope and use it for illegal reasons.

The man lurched backward and slammed Brad into the wall. Brad braced for the impact. He released the man, however, who whipped around, instantly and launched his fist at the small Boston pest.

His fist made contact with Brad’s nose, causing him to instantaneously bleed out. The crimson dripped down into his mouth, but he ignored the salty, tangy taste and growled, diving forward.

The main man finally removed his hand from Tyler’s mouth. The Dallas Star attempted to drive upward and throw the man off of him, but he pressed his fingers into the Star’s skin on his wrist and dug in, firmly holding his arm in its place, at the awkward and uncomfortable angle.

“Marchy, help me!” Tyler screamed, managing to lift his head up, briefly from the bed, as the man made a sudden move and snatched up the roll of tape. “Marchy----!” A piece from the roll was ripped off and slapped over Tyler’s lips. The young adult male muffled the rest of his screams for help, terrified.

Now the man yanked Tyler backward and flung him into the wall. A quick dart to the side and the intruder grabbed the rope on the floor. He worked to bind Tyler’s wrists together, behind his back, as thoroughly and quickly as he could.

Finally, Tyler was completely helpless to defend himself, as he jerked back and forth, struggling to get free. His sharp movement would have satisfied any fetish obsessed person’s dream.

The masked man picked up the Dallas Star forward and flung him over his shoulder. Tyler kicked his feet (as if it would help any).

The other intruder swung a final blow and knocked Brad unconscious. The small Bruin pest crumbled to the floor, unconscious. Tyler yowled a heart-wrenching cry into the black material that gagged him, as he watched his friend fall to the ground, beaten and bloodied, in horror.
The two men grunted and snuck out of Brad’s place with the struggling, bound and gagged prize in Tyler Seguin.

But why would anyone kidnap the Dallas Star’s blockbuster centre in Tyler Seguin?!