A Bartholy Abduction (Halloween Crossover Special)

A Bartholy Abduction

"Let me go!" Colin's voice resounded, bouncing off the white concrete walls of the empty warehouse. He struggled to loosen the zip ties around his wrists that rested behind the wooden dining room chair's leather backrest. His torso was tied with a rope that scraped against his arms, leaving red marks and bruised flesh every time he moved, and each of his ankles were restrained with some form of cord, or so he thought. A potato sack rested over Colin's head, allowing him to see only snippets of light through the burlap fabric. He felt claustrophobic in the dark confined sack, able to smell only a combination of earth and must and the scent of the beads of sweat running down his forehead. He'd never eat potatoes after this, he swore it. Although at times he wondered if he'd ever eat again at all. Colin was being held captive and he had no idea why.

"Let me go," he called out once more into the resonating emptiness. He had never seen the room, but he could hear just how large it was, and he was certain he was in the center of it from the way his voice evenly bounced off every wall. He was amazed how losing his sense of sight heightened every other.

"Quit the yapping. We get it," the rebellious Drogo spoke, vocalizing his irritation. He approached the hostage in a slow and cat like manner, measuring each of his steps.

Colin's head perked up as he attempted to catch a glimpse of his captor. "Why am I here", he questioned.

"You know why," Drogo's mocking voice reached Colin's ears, making the captive seethe.

"I have no idea why! Is this some sort of joke? Adam? Doris? You've had your fun, now let me go!"

"I told you to quiet down! You're getting on my last nerve, and believe me, you don't want to do that," Drogo threatened.

"Enough! He will be here soon. Be patient, brother," Peter spoke in his usual soft and soothing voice.

Colin's breathing quickened, making his confinement feel hotter by the second. "Who is coming?"

"It will all be over soon. The only thing you must do is cooperate and everything will be okay," Peter offered.

"Okay? Don't pretend I stand a chance. You kidnap me, tie me down and starve me, yet you expect me to believe I will walk out of here fine and dandy if I... cooperate," Colin's voice exposed every ounce of his disdain.

"Starve you? No, we definitely were not intending to do that," Drogo teased.

"If you're hungry, we have..." Peter trailed off and walked around the room in search of anything edible. "...Potatoes."

"I hate potatoes!" Colin roared, visibly flustered.

Drogo snickered. "Touchy subject, I see, but you know what they say, hostages can't be choosers."

"Pretty sure that's not the saying," Colin offered bitterly.

"Potato, potahto," Drogo retorted with his snarky pun.

Colin fumed at the remark. "Well, aren't you clever?"

"I like to think so," Drogo replied proudly, tapping the top of the sack and making Colin squirm in his seat.

"We can take the sack off his head. Just put this on." Peter handed Drogo the mask to his costume and placed on his own.

"I don't know. He might just die of fright," Drogo taunted as he watched Peter's green eyes roll under his mask. "Ugh...Fine," he conceded, placing his mask just below his black hat.

Peter pulled the sack off Colin's head, revealing his pale skin, covered with a light mist of perspiration. His hair, however, remained intact, silky, and perfectly in place. It was a detail even Drogo noticed, letting out a small hum of impressed acknowledgment.