Hostage (a One Direction story)

Chapter Two

AN: Lots of cursing in this chapter. Sorry guys. And please please please remember to vote, comment, fan, whatever! I'd just love to know that this story is being read!

I wake up tied to a chair this time, sitting alone in a dark room. The walls are grey cement, the door plain wood. It's locked with a thick chain and padlock. I wiggle awkwardly in my seat, struggling to ease my arms out of where they are tied behind me. My straight brown hair falls into my face as I work, and I notice that they have taken the liberty of putting me in a new shirt. It's too large, but at least the grey cloth covers me.

A tear trickles down my cheek as I remember what Nate did - almost did - to me. Shaking my head angrily, I scrub my face on my shoulder. I can't get all weak now. If I could just untie my hands, I might be able to escape. The friction of the rough rope on my wrists burns, but I ignore it. A little rope burn would be a cheap cost for my freedom.

After hours of fighting against the tough rope, I feel something ease, and I manage to squeeze my arms out of their bindings. Relief fills me, pouring over me like cool water on a hot day. In a matter of moments I lean down and untie my ankles, standing up and stretching. Ah, what a wonder, to stretch out my stiff and sore body.

A loud clanking makes me jump, and I run to the corner as the doorknob starts to jiggle. "You awake yet, Sleeping Beauty?" cries the singsong voice of Nate. "We're going to have such fu-"

He stops when he sees the empty chair and discarded ropes. Now is my chance. I sprint for the door and see Nate turn in shock behind me.

"Shit!" he curses. "Mark! Mark! She's getting away! Fuck! Mark!" he yells, and I run faster.

I'm in a plain hallway, the same grey concrete as my cell. Ahead it splits in two, one going right, the other left. In a split moment decision I go left, gasping for breath as I hear Nate's footsteps close behind mine. My freedom is so close I can almost taste it. The hallway turns sharply, dumping me at...a dead end.

Shit.

I turn around to face Nate, who runs into the room panting, a smirk plastered on his otherwise handsome features. "Thought you could get away, did you, princess?" he sneers, approaching.

I lift my fists, ready to fight. At least this time, it'll be one on one. Two seconds after the thought hits me, Mark comes into view, red-faced and breathing hard. "Dumb bitch went the wrong way," Nate informs him, laughing.

Fury boils up in me and I spring at him, throwing a hard punch into his jaw. Nate grunts and falls backwards, with me on top of him, hitting him like there is no tomorrow. He yells and backhands me, sending me toppling backwards onto the floor. Mark, standing above me, aims a vicious kick into my side. We all hear the crack as white-hot pain spikes through me and I scream. I stagger to my feet under a hail of blows from Marc, and manage to kick him right where it matters. With a groan, he doubles over, and I hit him with a karate chop to the back of his neck. Then a hand grips my shoulder and spins me around, straight into a wait kick in the stomach from Nate. I moan and collapse to the floor, my arms wrapped tightly around my burning ribs and aching stomach. My body is aching, throbbing, stinging. I am made of pain - it is my essence.

Nate snarls through his split lip, angrily swiping blood out from underneath his bleeding nose. "Fucking bitch," he says, punctuating each word with a hit.

"Never - try - running - away - again!" He spits between blows. "I'll - fucking - kill - you!"

I curl in on myself, trying to protect myself from his vicious rage. Pain is everywhere, everything.

"Nate! Nate!" yells a voice. It sounds like it's coming from far away, echoing down a long tunnel. "Nate, stop! You'll kill her!" somebody pulls Nate off me, and I sigh. But as I do, I feel warmth trickling out of my mouth.

"Shit, Nate, she's coughing blood!" shouts the voice. I wish they would be quiet. I really want to sleep.

"Whoopdee-fucking-doo," spits another voice. "The little bitch'll live. Anyway, this'll look better for the little video we've got planned,"

A little part of me stops to wonder what video they're talking about. The rest goes to sleep. The piece of my head thinking about the video slowly fades. Jesus, it moans. Make that three times I've passed out.