Post by Trevor Williams on Feb 22, 2010 0:10:12 GMT -8
Saturday, 14 August, 2010
7 p.m.
It was just like any other Saturday for Trey Hunter. He had started it off by bringing Angelica breakfast in bed since Kiley was at a friend's and to head off to Durmstrang the following day, and what had followed was enough for him to deem this a very good day from the start. He had then showered, and when she had left for her home in Russia as she normally did on Saturdays, he had set about cleaning his mess in the kitchen and done other household things before leaving and spending the day out on the town before doing necessary shopping and returning home to fix himself a modest dinner and then gather clothes into the laundry basket to do some laundry. That had, of course, taken no time flat, and he soon began his long walk down the unlit hallway from his bedroom to the laundry room.
He had not bothered to turn on the light, for he knew the way like the back of his hand, but something was beginning to feel wrong about the house. It felt as though someone was watching him, and rather than heed the urge to look to see, he had forcibly reassured himself he was alone and there was no cause to worry. Any enemy he might have was in some other country making something more of himself than Trey could ever hope. Not that it mattered, of course. He had Katya and Angelica, and those were all he needed in life as well as food, the roof over his head, and the clothes on his back. So, his arm shaking, the man had otherwise disregarded the extra footstep here and there. He was just becoming hypersensitive because he was scared. That’s all, right?
”Wrong,” a deep voice said from the shadows as Trey placed the basket between on his knee between him and the wall, and he jumped with a wimpy gasp, the laundry basket falling with a clatter to the ground as the short, stout man whipped around, his hand to his heart and eyes wide as he looked at the outline of the man he couldn’t see. His hand ”You should have listened to your gut, my friend. You might have saved yourself, though…I doubt it.” With the firm, swift strike of a fist to his head, Trey fell, the world quickly swirling to blackness.
~*~*~
He couldn’t see. He could hardly move. What was that beside him? A wand? But why would his captor give him a wand? As he touched it, the wand lit, and he rose it, looking around him. Boards… So many boards. He gasped as his eyes darted around, realization rapidly dawning on him. ”Let me out! Out! Let me out! Let me out!” the man cried frantically, nearly sobbing as his eyes squinted closed. His breathing was quick and shallow, and his heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears. Had to get out, had to get out, had to get out! He pounded against the coffin, kicked, thrashed.... Nothing. It wasn't budging. The red-faced man sobbed. He couldn't think, but he had to!
He had to or he was going to die and for a reason he didn't know. He had known some fairly shady people in his life, all around the time he had taken Katya, but surely they wouldn't bother him, right? Unless they wanted more money? That had to be it because surely Trevor couldn't have found him after all these years, not with as careful as he had been! Besides, he didn't care what they said. His old friend surely wasn't capable of....
But what if he was?
The thought stilled Trey's mind and body momentarily before he shuddered. It was a terrifying thought: a man who had had his wife and child ripped from him wouldn't care if they had once been good friends, practically brothers. He would only want revenge on his dead wife and living child in any way possible. He had to get out and fast. But what if he was underground? But he couldn't be. There was light through that small hole--flickering and dim, but it was light, and there was no sound of anything being shoveled or of daylight. Where was he? This wasn't good. No, it wasn't good at all. With all the might the stout man could muster, he pressed against the boards with his hands and feet before kicking up. He paused, noticing a slight increase in the dim light from outside and looking somewhat relieved. Again, he kicked and pushed in a swift, purposeful manner. Once more, the boards gave.
After a few more kicks, Trey tossed the coffin lid away, his eyes having to take a few moments to adjust as the wand promptly went out. Once he had adjusted, he looked around to figure out where he was and if he was alone. It was as his eyes looked to his left that he noticed another coffin. His heart rate increased again as he gasped. "Oh no," he said quietly. It was the only other coffin and there were no bodies around him or metal cabinets. He wasn't in a morgue. It had to be family, but who? Katya? Angelica? His mother? His grandfather?
"Go on." It was the deep voice again. Trey stiffened, his eyes looking desperately for the source of the voice. "Get out of the coffin. Come on. You can do it. That's it." He didn't know why he was obeying this patronizing voice. Perhaps it was fear of what would happen if he didn't, but what if he wanted to die? If it was who he thought it was in that coffin, he would want to die no matter what. "Now, walk over to it. Come on. I know you want to find out who it is inside, whether it's delightful Mr. Petrova or perhaps Angelica..." Her name was said in such a way to rile him. "Now, she's a beauty, isn't she? Tall, slender, gorgeous with that trademark blonde hair and soft blue eyes. Mmm...What I wouldn't give to take her from you after everything you've taken from me, but see, I believe you should be able to enjoy your love, not watch it die with its object in your arms. Oooopen it."
Trey looked at the plain wooden coffin, his face drawn and pale. His hand twitched as though he was about to open it, but it quickly withdrew as he looked away. No. He couldn't do this. What if this was Angelica? How could he handle it? The man who was doing this to him was clearly playing a mind game right now, and while he hated to admit it, it was working. He was petrified. "Open it! Open it or you watch as I undress the one I have with me while you are helpless to do anything but, and then, watch as my hand feels every inch of her soft, tantalizing skin before you listen as I make her feel so good she'll never be able to enjoy anyone else ever again. Of course, after this, you'll have to witness as I skin her a--"
"Stop! Stop it!"
"Stop it!" the voice repeated mockingly. "Oh shut up. I already believe you as much of a pathetic, whiny, wimpy willy nilly girly boy as it is. Don't help argue my case. That's no fun."
"Just let her go! Whoever you have, let her go! You can do to me what you want. I swear, just let her go!"
The voice chuckled. "I swear, Hunter, you are far too easy to get to. Now, enough banter. Open the coffin. I want to see the look on your face. I'm getting impatient, and you know what will happen if you make me wait."
Trembling, Trey stood there a moment before looking for something to pry it open with. At first, it seemed there was nothing. The man desperately looked around. The wand! He needed the light. So, he rushed to it, picking it up. Again, it lit. There, in the corner was a small device that seemed to be able to do the trick. It was almost too easy how quickly he loosened the lid and pushed it aside.
What he saw made his heart stop.
"No," he said, stumbling backwards. "No! No, no, no! NO!" He looked around, trying to find any sign of the source of the voice, but he could see nothing and no one. Silence reigned for a few moments as Trey fought not to break down, but it was futile. As the man let out a wail, the voice uttered a single sentence as silently a gas began to fill the room:
"Now you know how I felt."
TBC...