Don't Look Back //Dreamnotfound fanfiction

Chapter 17

Dream seemed to loosen up after that day on the beach. He became way more approachable, beginning to take solid breaks and spent more time with his friends.

George lingered around the building, mostly hanging out with Bad. They had become really close and started spending more and more time together.

When he did have time, however, he would spend it with Dream. George was his addiction; the thing he couldn't resist. They became invested in each other, so much so that they were glued at the hip.

Maybe thats why they didn't see it coming.

It was an early Wednesday, George's least favorite day of the week. In his eyes, hump day was a reminder of how they were only half way done with the week.

This particular morning, George woke up at 10am, which was unusually early for him, seeing how he loved sleeping. He woke up immediately in a bad mood, hump day was bad enough, but he woke up early too?

He huffed, rubbing his eyes. He had been staying in Dream's room ever since the day on the beach. They held each other at night, and George had never felt so safe.

He let his bare feet hit the ground as he sluggishly walked to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, pulling out a blue sweater and a pair of black pants. He threw a dress shirt on under the sweater, just for extra layering, and made his way to the door, tossing on his slip on shoes.

He opened the door, making his way down the melancholy hallway, assuming that most people were already working. He didn't mind being alone for the most part, the silence just got to him.

He walked over to the designated kitchen, spying a pot of lukewarm coffee on the table. He found a spare mug and poured the remnants of the coffee inside.

He wasn't really a breakfast person, so i skipped out on the muffins Bad had baked a few days back.

He stood around, sipping his coffee and taking in the wonder of the morning.

It had been surprisingly calm, despite receiving word of the unrest within the gangs, Dream had 'handled it.' Whatever that meant.

Yet something felt off. He had an awful feeling pooling in his stomach that wouldn't cease bothering him.

He sighed, picking up his mug and turning down the hall again, humming a small tune he heard on the radio one time.

The building was eerily silent, it was unnerving. He planned on telling Dream about it later.

He felt a hand clasp over his mouth.

He dropped his mug, letting out a muffled gasp as he felt metal pressed to his neck.

A knife.

"Now listen here, pretty boy, you're coming with us; and if you try anything funny, i'll slit your throat just to watch you bleed out."

The voice was raspy, as if he had a cold. It was laced with ill intent; it didn't take a genius to know that.

The man pushed George forward; towards the building door. He didn't resist, too fearful of the conscience. All he could do was hope Dream heard the mug smash, and come running.

However he did no such thing, and George found himself being shoved, once again, into the trunk of a car.

People normally say the second time is not as scary as the first time, but not when it comes to kidnapping.

The trunk slammed as he heard muffled talking in the front of the car. He felt the engine to rumble, and the car took off.

Was this Dreams doing? There was no way. Was it all a lie? Everything he said?

He had no clue where they were going, and in honesty, he didn't care. The realization was settling in. He was taken. Take by who?

Minutes sped by like seconds before the car finally stopped after what must have been half an hour.

Half an hour away from Dream.

The car doors slammed closed as he counted several pairs of footsteps.

The trunk banged open, someone dragging George out by his feet and slinging him over his shoulder.

That was the second time. Was he really that light?

The person smelled of smoke and alcohol, letting out a husky laugh as George was taken into what looked to be an empty house.

It was anything but that.

He was taken down a set of stairs, into a basement where he was roughly thrown down.

He immediately felt bindings around his wrists and ankles, tying it tightly.

He used the opportunity to get a good look at one of his captors.

It was a tall bulky man with two mean mutton chops and a weird looking mustache. His hair was brown and greasy looking, as he took note of his baseball cap.

The man noticed George staring, letting out a haunting chuckle as he walked over to George and crouched down beside him, grabbing his chin to make the poor boy smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Sorry you got wrapped up in this, cutie. Blame your little boyfriend for this mess." He said, giving him a toothy grin as he straightened his crooked tie.

"Who...are you?" George gasped out, barely managing to breath through his harsh stench.

The man laughed again, letting out a small hiss. "How rude of me! My name is Schlatt. Welcome to Las Nevadas, George.

He whispered the last part in his ear, causing the brunette to shiver again.

"Why am I here...?" He asked again, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

Schlatt smiled at this, as if he had been patiently waiting for him to ask.

"We just wanna fuck up Dream's new toy."

963 words

GUYS LOWKEY VOTE 🤤😍