Pleasant Dreams

by Krystal George

Dove

  By Kim Stevens

  © 2013 by Kim Stevens

  The room was eerily quiet and smelt of dirt. He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard scurrying noises coming from the far corner. He pictured rats and cringed. The only other sound he could hear was a faint drip of a tap. It sounded far away, but somehow the soft drip, drip, drip comforted him. It had relaxed him enough to fall asleep, but that was just for a short period of time. He didn’t know where he was or how long he had been down here but he had to keep reminding himself to stay awake in case trouble came knocking.

  His eyes were covered with a sour smelling cloth and his mouth had been tapped up. His hands were bound tightly behind his back. Every breath he took through his nose made his stomach do death rolls from the sour stench of body odor. He tried to shake his blind-fold off, but that just made his neck sore. He tried to tug it off using the wall he had been propped against but it did nothing in return. He hadn’t given up….not entirely.

  He had come around during transport. Through squinted eyes he had made out that he was in a van. The walls were painted black and the floor was gunmetal grey. The van’s windows had been tinted, giving everything outside a night-time look. He wasn’t sure of the time anymore. Reality had given up on him in a split second.

  He remembered feeling his clothing being cut off, leaving him dressed in his boxers. He had thanked God that he didn’t go commando just before his kidnappers had realized that he was awake. They soon fixed that problem.

  When he came round, his entire body felt sluggish. His brain was slow to register and when it finally caught up, an alarm bell suddenly went off. His eyes were seeing only blackness and he couldn’t open his mouth. He tried to move his hands, but something cut into his wrists. The only part of him that was free, were his legs. He kicked at nothing, feeling his heels scrape dirt. His chest felt tight as tears stung his eyes. He was screwed…big time.

  Before all of this had happened, he had been walking in the park, enjoying the summer day. It was his lunch break. He was an intern making his mark on the world. His dream was to become a lawyer. He had been fascinated with the profession ever since he could remember. Before leaving his apartment his girlfriend, Lauren, had said he looked quiet dashing in the suit he had bought using his very first pay check.

  He loosened his tie, which Lauren had given him, when suddenly he felt a sharp pinch in his neck. It felt like a mosquito bite but then suddenly his legs became weak and the park started to slant to one side. He couldn’t cry out for help and for some reason no one noticed him falling to the ground. He lay motionless on the grass, sluggishly hoping that his suit didn’t have grass stains on them or Lauren would kill him, when he heard footsteps approaching. He opened his mouth, but his voice had escaped him.

  Blurry faces towered over him and he thought he had been saved until they yanked him to a standing position and roughly dragged him to an awaiting vehicle. By this time his head was fuzzy and nothing was making sense. He fell unconscious soon after the engine roared to life.

  He wasn’t sure where he was and that scared the shit out of him. He was strong. Why didn’t he fight his attackers? He had been a wrestler in high school. He even had the medals to prove it, but that was useless against whatever drug was injected into him.

  Silent sobs shuddered from him as tears finally spilled, only to be soaked up by his blind-fold. He closed his eyes as Lauren’s face materialized in the darkness. Her beautiful crystal blue eyes shining out at him, her rose colored pouty lips smiling at him, and her laugh. Oh, the sound made him ache all over. He hoped she was alright. He hated for her to worry about him and he knew she would call their friends and family. Would he be found? He had no clue, but all he wanted was for Lauren to be safe.

  The scurrying came closer and he thought he felt hair brush past his left foot. He scooted his legs in so he was cross-legged and silently pleaded for whatever was down here with him to leave him alone. He hated rats with a passion.

  A few months back he and Lauren had had a rat problem in their apartment building. He had complained to the manager only for her to shrug and shake her head. She didn’t understand him and he didn’t have the patience to mime every word to her. The language barrier wasn’t helping either. When he turned to go he swore she had said ‘rats’ but he just kept going, quietly seething.

  Going back to the apartment he saw Lauren standing in the kitchen doorway. She was armed with a broom and a bucket. He knew what was waiting.

  “It’s a big one, babe.” She told him, eyeing the checker board floor. “Stay back.”

  He smiled, patting her on the butt. “My hero….”

  She giggled, but then turned serious when a huge brown rat scurried out from behind the fridge. He didn’t mean too but he squealed like a school girl and jumped onto the nearest chair. Lauren only rolled her eyes before charging into the kitchen.

  The memory made him smile behind the tape. He loved her and wanted to marry her one day. Hopefully he’d get that wish. His eyelids grew heavy and his body wanted to succumb to sleep, but his head screamed at him to stay awake. He felt like telling the voice to shut the hell up, but then a noise caught his attention. Straining his ears he listened for it again. Yes! It was a door closing. It came from above him. He shuffled around on the dirt straining to hear more. He tried screaming but his words were muffled behind the tape. Using his tongue he tried to push it off of his mouth but it was holding on tight.

  His fingers wiggled feeling the restraints around his wrists. No use there, either. It felt like flexi-cuffs. He’d need a good knife or sharp pair of scissors to get those off. He managed to scoot sideways so his left side was touching the wall. It was brick. He could tell from the rough surface plus it had crumbled under his fingertips when he had touched it earlier.

  Scraping the side of his head against the sharp edges wasn’t smart, but he was desperate. He needed to get his eyes back. After a few failed attempts he was about to give up when suddenly the cloth moved. This gave him hope so he kept at it. After scratching up his face the cloth finally dragged free and hung around his neck like a noose. He could now see.

  The room wasn’t quite a room. He was surrounded by three brick walls with a gap where the fourth one should be. It was like a stall, but the floor was dirt. There were no windows so he knew he was in a basement. He smelt blood before feeling it trickle down his cheek. He knew he had cut himself pretty badly and would deal with that when he was out of this rat-infested hell hole.

  With effort he pushed himself onto his knees and steadied himself when he nearly rolled back onto his butt. He felt giddy while standing and took a few deep breaths to clear his head. Was he about to face his kidnappers? He had no idea what he was going to do and hoped he could sneak away without raising an alarm.

  Tiptoeing to the edge of the stall he peeked around the corner to see that there were three other stalls like his. He looked forward to see a set of wooden stairs leading to a door. A door to freedom, one could only hope.

  He took a step out into the emptiness and was about to hurry to the stairs when he heard footsteps approaching from above. His body froze. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes saw the door knob jiggle and his heart missed several beats.

  The door slowly opened letting in a bright yellow light. It lit his stall up as he settled back down on the dirt. Instinct had quickly set in making him retreat back to where he had started. He hated being so weak and scared. He was a fighter and here he was slinking back to hell.

  He felt the blindfold around his neck and knew the kidnappers would notice. He just shrugged, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

  The footsteps thudded down the stairs and headed straight to his stall. He thought about closing his eyes, but something told him to keep them open. ‘Don’t show that you’re weak,’ He told himself. ‘If this person wants to kill you then make them look you in the eye while they do it.’

  He held his gaze at the opening while the person moved c
loser. He sat up straight and pushed back his shoulders. He was a fighter and he was strong. He was good and no one was going to take him down without a fight.

  When a figure transformed out of the darkness his eyes grew wide and his fierce appearance faltered. He knew that body all too well. The face was in shadows but he didn’t need to see it to know who it was. His lips moved silently behind the tape and his hands fought to get free from their bindings. He tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly dry.

  His brain was deathly silent. It was like his head was just full of air. He shook it but this only made the person laugh. It was different. It was filled with cold hatred and it chilled him down to the bone.

  “Well, it looks like you managed to get the blindfold off,” the icy voice said. “It doesn’t matter though; you won’t need it for much longer.”

  The figure moved forward then he was blinded by a sharp light. It was coming from a flash light. The beam bobbed up and down with each step.

  He blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. His blood ran cold when he saw that the figure was now kneeling in front of him, the light illuminating the face. Crystal blue eyes glared at him, full of hatred and danger. His attention was suddenly caught by something in her hands. When he glanced down he stiffened. She was holding a gun to his chest. His eyes raced back to her face, pleading for her to let him go. She just cruelly smiled at him.

  “You know why I’m doing this, don’t you?” she asked, stroking the edge of the pistol. When he didn’t respond she went on. “Let me fill you in. I was madly in love with you. I would have married you on our first date, but I knew that was silly.” She smiled lovingly, but it wasn’t at him. It was at the gun.

  “I told my mum about you and she was so happy. Her little girl settling down with a great guy….” A frown darkened her face. “But you weren’t a great guy were you?”

  “I saw you…with other girls. The voices told me to keep an eye on you…they said you were playing up behind my back…” she jabbed the gun at him. He tried moving away but the brick wall blocked him in. He was stuck.

  “I tried to ignore them….the voices, but they were so loud and so strong. I wanted to be happy with you and start a life….have kids, but I couldn’t ignore them. They told me not to trust you.” She looked away, swiping at her eyes. He tried to speak but it came out muffled. This made her turn back to him. Holding the gun in one hand she reached toward him. He cringed from her touch as she ripped the tape off.

  “Lauren, please….don’t do this,” he whispered. His throat was dry, but he was scared and he didn’t try to hide it.

  “We had four wonderful years, didn’t we, babe?” she asked so he nodded.

  “Yeah we did and we can have many more if you let me go.” He kept his eyes locked onto hers. “Please, Dove, I love you. I would never hurt you.”

  Her cold expression faded at his use of her pet name. “And I love you…” her voice was a whisper. He thought he had gotten through to her, but he was wrong.

  “But I can’t trust you.” She held the gun steadily in her hands. “The voices told me to hurt you like you’ve hurt me,” she shook her head. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

  “Dove, look into my eyes and you’ll see I would never hurt you. I can never hurt the woman that I love,” his words were rushed. “Please, I want to marry you. I will do anything for you.” Tears welled in his eyes. It surprised him that the tears weren’t for him, but for Lauren. Even though she was holding a gun inches from his chest he still loved her.

  She hesitated then slowly lowered the gun. “Do you really want to marry me?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  Bowing her head, Lauren sobbed. He scooted over to her on his butt and pressed his body against hers. He hoped he had just saved his own life.

  “Can you untie me?” he asked in a semi-calm voice.

  “Yeah,” she placed the gun on the dirt in front of them then removed a pair of pliers from a pants pocket. She snipped the flexi-cuffs off his hands then sat, cross-legged, beside him. He glanced at the gun while taking her hands in his.

  “Can we invite mum?” she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  “To what?” he rubbed his thumb over her fingers.

  “To the wedding, silly….”

  “Sure. Of course we can. You can invite anyone you want. Where would you like to have it?” he asked, playing her game.

  “Um….how about at the park…?”

  “Ok, yeah. Sounds really nice,” He knew he would never set foot in that park again. He had been drugged and taken from that very park and no one had noticed a damn thing. “Lauren, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure babe.” She kept her head on his shoulder so he released her hands to rub his wrists.

  There was a scurrying sound from behind them and it made his skin crawl.

  “Who helped you with this?” he had to be careful not to set her off again. As he watched her carefully he slowly reached forward, picking up the gun.

  “My brother,” she sat up and looked at him. She was smiling, but it froze on her face when she saw the gun in his hands. “Why do you have that?” she frowned.

  Before he could answer, she was pouncing on him. Her full weight knocked him back so he was lying on the dirt. He clung onto the pistol as she clawed at his face.

  “Give me the gun!” she sounded like a banshee. “You can’t have it!”

  He tried to shove her off, but she hung on, gripping his hair in one hand and trying to scratch his eyes out with the other. With all his strength he was useless against her. Maybe the drug hadn’t fully worn off yet or maybe she was hyped up on something herself. Whatever the situation he couldn’t let her win.

  “I can’t trust you!” she screamed into his face. “I hate you!”

  His hand held the gun between them so he lifted it slightly, aiming at her stomach.

  “You may hate me, Dove, but I love you.” He whispered before pulling the trigger.

  A loud bang echoed through the basement as her body flew off of him landing on the ground in a heap. His stomach was sore from the recoil and a slick of blood covered his skin.

  He forced himself to sit up making his whole body ache. He had to get up and find a way out of here. He stumbled to his feet and staggered to the stairs leading to the door that hopefully lead to freedom.

  He climbed to the top then pushed the door open. A stifling smell hit him making him bend over and dry wrench. He clamped a hand over his mouth while his eyes searched for the source of the foul smell. He was standing in the kitchen of Lauren’s mothers place. He had been here a few times over the course of their relationship and he liked her mum and brother a lot.

  He staggered into the dining room and suddenly froze. Sitting at the table were Lauren’s mother and brother. They were slumped forward like they had fallen asleep during dinner. But what drew his attention were the huge holes in the backs of their heads. There was blood and brains and shards of bone covering their clothes, the chairs, and the floor. He saw red spray patterns on the white wall-papered walls and knew where they sat was where they were killed.

  He couldn’t stop himself from puking all over himself. His stomach had been churning and now emptied out all over his bare body and the floor. He raced for the front door and escaped the horror from inside the house. He stumbled down the stairs, landing on his hands and knees. He was taking some deep breaths as a police cruiser sped into the street screeching to a halt at the curb. He felt his body slightly relax as he climbed to his feet, heading towards the police.

  “My name is Andrew Mitchell. I was kidnapped…..” he got out before collapsing to the ground.

  My name is Kim Stevens and I'm a writer from Australia. My first short story, Christmas, was published in an anthology; Angels Among Us, and I hope to add to my collection. I enjoy following my characters and sometimes they surprise even me with their journeys. I just hope readers enjoy my stories as much as I
enjoy creating them.