Hostage (a One Direction story)

Chapter Three

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The incessant beeping drags me out of my peaceful slumber into cold, hard reality. My body feels like it's been run over by a steamroller. It hurts to breathe, let alone move. Beep. Beep. Beep. I raise my head ever so slowly to stare into what looks like a camera. A red light on it flashes in time with the beeping. I go to stand up and find, to my disgust, I am once more tied to a chair. A wire wrapped around my arm connects to another machine beside the camera, and odd metal ribs line the back of the chair, which is also connected to a machine.

I struggle uselessly and find that this time, strong steel chains bind me tightly to the wood of the chair. Well, damn. I go limp, breathing hard through the pain that racks my body periodically. I stay there, limp, until I feel a jerk on my arm. I open my eyes to stare into the ice blue ones of Mark.

"Listen up, girl," he says. "You're going to do exactly what I tell you, or I'm going to kill you." As simple as that . Christ, what does he want me to do?

"Me and Nate are in the need of a little money. I'm sure you understand where we come from," I glare at him hatefully for the none too subtle remark about my past. "There's this group of men - boys, really, - that are absolutely loaded. We thought, 'Might as well kidnap one and ransom them back, right?'" he pauses to push my hair out of my face before moving to the camera, fiddling with buttons and dials.

"P-p-please, I have no idea what you're talking about, j-just let me go home!"

"Oh, it's not that simple dear. You see, this group, they've got cold security. So do their families and friends. Then my colleague Nate thought 'I know exactly who we can take! A fan.'"

A fan? What the fuck? I'm not a fan of anything except for..."One Direction," I whisper, my eyes widening as I realize their plan.

Marc grins. "See, maybe you're not as dumb as we thought!" he turns the camera to face me, centering in on my face. I bite my lip and glare at him.

"So what if I like One Direction? They won't pay for some random girl," I hope to death I'm wrong, because, to be honest, there's nothing I want more than to be free.

"Oh, but they will. And when they do, we'll arrange for a meeting. We'll say 'Meet us with the money,' and when we do, we'll kill them. We'll kill them and then get everything out of their bank accounts."

Holy fucking shit. This guy is insane. He thinks he can kill One Direction? Jesus Christ. And where the hell does a video fit into this?

"Now, you're probably wondering where a video factors into my genius plan," he smirks when he sees me jump at his accuracy. "We'll send them a video of you, all pretty and hurt and helpless, vulnerable, begging for their help, for their money. They'll know we're not shitting them, and they'll come."

He's insane. Oh my god. What am I going to do?! I can't endanger One Direction!! My heart almost stops. What if I do? What if it's my fault that Niall, Harry, Louis, Liam and Zayn die? Oh my god. My blue eyes fill up with tears.

"Crying! Perfect!" says Mark. "This is being broadcasted live to One Direction's phones, alright? If you fuck this up I'll let Nate have you."

I'll let Nate have you..I'll let Nate have you...The words echo in my head like a death sentence. He'll let Nate rape me. He'll let Nate kill me. Jesus fucking Christ.

With a countdown like some sort of twisted cameraman, Mark flips the camera on. I seal my lips, glaring at the camera stonily. Mark glares at me.

"Something you have to say to One Direction, dear?" he asks, his voice sickly sweet.