[COMPLETED UNTIL SEASON 5]
Ana Thompson always seems to wind up in the strangest predicaments...
A perpetual victim of Murphy's Law, Ana finds herself arriving in Hawkins, Indiana just prior to the events of November 6th, 1983.
And, just prior to f...
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A PROPELLER KICKING into a whirl sounded as Ana blinked back into consciousness. Her head was throbbing, the pressure pushing against her corneas as she struggled to see through the dark spots clouding her vision. Murray and Joyce were already awake, seated across from her, appearing far more chipper given they'd only been drugged as opposed to assaulted.
As she groaned and rolled her neck along her shoulders, joints stiff and popping, she squinted one heavily lidded eye at the other two and complained, "just had to drink the strange man's coffee, didn't you?" It was a stupid, entirely avoidable mistake, but they had let their guards down and were now sitting ducks with hands bound behind their backs, aboard a plane heading anywhere but where they needed to go.
"What happened to you?" Joyce asked, staring at her in concern, and Ana briefly wondered if her face was swollen from where it had landed against the lockers or bleeding steadily from the impact.
"I tried to fight him off, but he knocked me out," she admitted, thoroughly regretting not just strangling Yuri with his ugly knit scarf when she'd had the chance, wrists strained against the rope slowly cutting off circulation to her hands. Her feet were tied together as well, the only ones who were, probably given her propensity for kicking.
There was a puttering of exhaust outside before their captor appeared in the doorway. "Why the long faces?" Yuri posed to Joyce and Murray, who observed him in disdain. Then, seeing Ana alert, he yipped in glee. "The little lamb is awake. My boo boo to the head was too hard, no?" He cackled even as she tried unsuccessfully to swipe at his ankles in anger. "Are you not excited for your journey across the Iron Curtain?" He questioned in amusement, slamming the exterior door shut.
"Yuri, I have a family," Joyce began to plead in desperation, hoping to elicit some sort of empathy from the Russian who assuredly had none. "I have two kids waiting for me at home, and so does she," the older woman jutted her chin in Ana's direction for reference.
But, her appeals went unanswered, and Yuri began rambling on as if Joyce had never spoken. "Did you know? Peanut butter is banned in motherland," he informed, holding a jar of Jif on display for them. "I buy for dollar-thirty here, sell for twenty dollar there," he beamed with delight.
"Your mother must be very proud," Murray quipped flatly, voice devoid of any mirth.
The rolling humor was instantly stripped from Yuri, who looked down at the spreadable sadly. "My mother is dead," he lamented though it didn't spurn pity in his audience.
"You want to join her?" Ana commented cooly, trying to will his murder with her mind. "Come a little closer, and I'll gladly guide you into the afterlife where you can see her again!" Maybe she could head butt him if he got near enough. Concave his stupid smirking face so they wouldn't have to listen to his inane drabble anymore.
Despite the venom dripping from her tongue, Yuri merely chortled at her show of defiance. "Dead...tired of living like a bum!" He corrected, shouting like the other three had personally caused such a predicament. "You see? Yuri has family too. And with money I earn from selling you, I will buy her a new house. I will buy my daughter a pony. Whatever they desire from now on, they will have. And, yes, for that," his volume rose to a frenzied pitch. "My mother will be very, very proud," he imparted with finality, stomping purposefully towards the cockpit, leaving them behind in silence.
