04-27-2014, 07:43 AM
Wednesay, April 23rd, 2014
With a gun in your mouth, you realize just how small your mouth actually is.
The man who initially grabbed me and forced a gun against my skull now has said firearm pressed against the inside of my cheek, and is using this physical and mental leverage to force me into the back seat of some beat up sedan from the early 90's by the look of it. With incredible reluctance, I do and he follows me in, making sure the barrel of the gun doesn't escape my lips all the while. My hands, both my good and bad one, are already tied behind my back leaving me with no real conceivable option of self defense. Compliance at this point is my best bet for survival.
With a gun in your mouth, you start to pray to a God you aren't even sure exists.
"I want you know that this isn't personal," the cold, snakelike voice of Samuel Klein says as he settles into the driver's seat in front of me and slides the key into the ignition. He turns it, and the engine comes to life. "Your uncle just needs to learn respect."
"Mmph mmph!" I manage to choke out in response, severely muffled by the firearm about ready to separate my left cheek from the rest of my face. Samuel just chuckles from the front of the car, wrapping the fingers of his left hand around the steering wheel.
"Let her talk for a minute, Joshua."
The man in the backseat with me, Joshua, pulls the gun out of my mouth. I wipe my mouth of the saliva that rubbed off on my lips before leaning back in my own seat. Silence, I say nothing. I just sit, staring at Samuel through the rear view mirror, and observing his facial expression as it shifts from a smug satisfaction, to an unnerved glare at the lifeless patch of concrete in front of him as he backs out of the parking spot.
"You really want to play it like this?"
"Like hell it isn't personal."
"Huh?"
"You said it wasn't personal. That's a blatant lie and we all know it. I don't care what made it personal, but don't lie to me."
When you've had a gun in your mouth, you suddenly start to crave honesty.
"Silly woman, if this were personal, you'd be dead. Joshua? Back to business."
And just like that, the gun's back in my mouth, pressed against the same part of my cheek that it left. Almost as if it never did leave. I can see Samuel's hand siding down, out of view, though the motions I can see suggest he's rummaging through something and then he just stops moving altogether. He pulls his arm back up, revealing a white paper bag, which he drops in Joshua's lap. He seems to know just what Samuel was planning; something that caused my teeth to start chattering on the gun. Almost as if on instinct, he once again removes the gun/gag from my mouth and lets it rest in his lap as he pulls the bag over my head. Once that simple task was completed, he shoves the gun through the flimsy paper to where my mouth was behind it, subjecting me to both terrors at once.
With a gun in your mouth and a bag over your head; the phrase "half awake and almost dead" takes on a whole new meaning.
"You aren't so tough and defiant when faced with your own mortality, are you Kendall?" The sick bastard was enjoying this. A lot.
It isn't too noticeable underneath the bag, I presume, but regardless I shake my head no in compliance to his inquiry. No use provoking him further.
"That's what I thought."
And then, nothing. The only sound I can hear is traffic, that assures me that we're on a road now. However, my mind decides to wander, yet nowhere near as far from this situation as I would've hoped.
With a gun in your mouth, and a bag over your head, you start to regret everything you've done wrong in your life.
I bite down hard on the gun, which seems to get Joshua's attention. He tries to adjust the gun's position but I seem to have it stuck in place. From in front of me, I can hear the sound of a cell phone ringing. For once, it isn't mine because I was stupid enough to leave mine back at the apartment. After a few seconds, the ringing ceases, replaced by the triumphant, boastful voice of the driver.
"Everything went according to plan."
"Of the course the girl isn't harmed. What kind of person do you think I am?"
Oh, I have a few answers for that question.
"I'm not saying she went along with this willingly, I'm just saying we haven't done anything to her."
With a gun in your mouth and a bag over your head, you start to plot what you're going to do when these restraints are removed.
"Look, we'll be there in a bit, you can check her then."
Click!
"My my, looks like you're a popular one."
"Mmph! Mmph!"
He sighs, then: "Joshua?"
Once again, my mouth is gun free.
"Fuck. You."
I'm past caring at this point. They won't do anything to me.
"Now now, what's with the attitude?"
"What attitude? Is this not standard procedure when you know that your captors aren't going to do anything at all in fear of some nameless, faceless, entity that so far only exists on the other end of a phone?"
"Are you so sure that you want to test that theory?"
It isn't a theory. You are aware that I have working ears, right?"
"You are aware that we can think of an excuse, right?"
"From your reactions; I've come to the conclusion that whoever you were talking to is a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. Are you willing to risk it?"
"Very well."
The car comes to a complete stop.
"We're here."
Joshua rips the bag off my head and tosses it onto the bottom of the seat, before grabbing me by the arm and dragging me with him out the door on his side of the backseat. As my feet hit the ground, I break free of his grasp for a second and shuffle over to the trunk of the car. Joshua steps forward to grab me again, but not before I manage to pull off what I was planning.
I smash my head against the top of the trunk until I hear a crunch!
Blood trickles out of my nostrils and starts to fall down my face when Joshua finally gets a hold of me.
Now, let's see what the person Samuel was talking to thinks.