The Lost Daughter of Thaumaturgy

The Lost Daughter of Thaumaturgy - Chapter 5

5

Me...

My head hurts. Ok that’s the understatement of a life time. My head feels like its been smashed against a wall repeatedly, then stood on by a 400 lb chick, driven over and double tapped with a shot gun!

Its pitch black and which ever way I move my head my face and neck scratch the rough material of a bag that smells like sweaty ball sack and gym socks, making me itchy and really annoyed.

My hands are tied up behind me and my wrists are pretty much raw. I gave up shouting for help a while ago, so I resorted to singing the most ridiculous and annoying songs I could remember from my childhood. My favourites being ‘Grand Ole Duke of York’, ‘Old Macdonald’ and the opening tune to ‘Budgey the Little Helicopter’.

It got to about the 3rd verse of “The Phantom of the Opera” for the 5th time before the car finally stopped. The force of the brakes being slammed down flattened me against the boot wall and my face took the impact first, yeah, that hurt.

Car doors slammed shut on either side, rocking the car. My stomach sank, making me feel sick. 

Muttering came from the driver’s side, rounding the car. Something like ‘pain in the ass... so owes me...’ that’s interesting. My kidnappers –is it still called kidnapping if you have no one to be stolen from? - Not the sing song kind of guy.

I know I should be terrified, but if I start thinking about what’s going to happen when I finally get out of this boot I think I might literally throw up. And considering my current circumstances, bag over the head and all, I don’t really want to be swimming in puke... ew.

You think!

Who asked you?

I did, and don’t give me that tone missy, I wasn’t the dumb ass who let her guard down and got hit across the freakin’ head!

Urm, yeah you kinda are.

What, now you decide to acknowledge the fact that we are the same person so you don’t have to blame yourself, even though you would still be blaming you because I am you... that made sense to me.

Sort of, But I wouldn’t be blaming my self; it would be my alternate personality, think ‘Me, Myself and Irene’. Id be Irene and I can just pick and choice who to blame the shit going down on.

You’re an idiot.

Quite frankly me dear, I don’t give a damn!

Thank you for re-iterating my point. Jack ass.

Thanks so much! You made me feel so much better, never mind the fact that who ever kidnapped us has just left us here, wherever here is and I don’t think the whole throwing up thing is gonna be a problem anymore because I’m pretty much numb from fear!

...

Yeah! So shut up and let me think about how the hell we’re gonna get out of here.

Before I could think of anything, the boot popped open and my eyes burned from the sudden light, the bag doing nothing to lessen the glare. I instantly cringed back, anticipating the hands coming towards me.

As if on cue, two sets of hands grabbed at me. One pair on my shoulders and the other pair around my ankles. Fuck this. I started thrashing the best I could and screamed as loud as my tired lungs would let me after all the singing. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea after all.  

They continued to carry me as if undeterred by the squirming girl in their arms. Once or twice I heard them grunt, so I must be doing something right if they’re starring to struggle.

“This chick is really starting to piss me off” The one at my feet hissed through gritted teeth, as if he was trying his best not to strike someone. “Hurry up and get her inside, Adalric will be expecting me and I don’t feel like playing ‘Ty’s Scooby-doo villain unmasking sessions’.” The man said in a deep gravely voice. 

Wait. Ty? As in Typhon? Oh somebody is getting there ass kicked so bad! I started screaming a real of profanity and cusses so anger filled even Jack Dee would find it hilarious, if not shocking.

I continued to swear like a drunken trucker on steroids even after I was dropped on my ass on a very cold, very hard floor, although after that It turned into complaints about the coldness of the floor, threats of calling customer services for poor delivery quality and the continuation of my threats of violence against Typhon, where ever he is.

“Are you done?” a familiar voice asked.

“Clearly not you little fucker!”I screamed in the general direction of his voice. “What the frak is wrong with you! You can’t get a girl by normal means so you feel the need to kidnap her and force small talk while she’s tied up on her ass!”

He chuckled to himself.

God he’s so arrogant! Please tell me we’re cutting him?! I sooo need to hurt him!

Oh trust me, as soon as these ropes are gone he’s gonna wish he’d invested in football cups for his balls!

Good girl!

“Gabe, please stop talking for a minute and I may tell you why I had to hit you and... I don’t like to say kidnap but I really can’t see any other word for it.”  He said just over my head.

I did as he said, not because I wanted to, but because my throat was really hurting now. I need a drink.

“Thank you” he said in that arrogant voice that made me want to punch him. “I’m going to untie you and remove the bag from your head. Can I please have your word that you won’t try to kill, maim or injure me before I can tell you why I had to do all this?” He continued to say.

Before, does that mean I’m free to kill him after he’s told me then?

Let’s go with yes!

Sweet!

He pulled the bag from my head and I gasped. This has to be the biggest room I’ve ever seen outside of a museum! Black and white marble tiles covered the entire floor, through open French doors into another room, filled from floor to ceiling with book shelves crammed to capacity, and continued out onto a balcony over looking open sea, thick crimson curtains fluttering in the breeze. The walls were all painted in gold with wooden fixtures separating the walls up a bit, the colour reflecting the evening’s sun and making the room glow with warmth, contrasting the cold air pouring into the room from the ocean.

Random pieces of art were hung about the room, each of something completely different to the last, but each one harmonising with the next. The room was littered with tall leather arm chairs, deep brown chaises draped in golden blankets, and a chocolate brown leather coach positioned in front of a huge wood burning black marble fire place with golden detailing, the flames flickering green and blue.

An old mahogany desk sat on the far side of the room, piled high with leather bound books and three computer screens side-by-side-by-side.

“Gabe?” A voice called from near my head making me jump. Instinctively I swung my arm out, my fist connecting with a face. Shit, I agreed not to hurt him until he told me everything, right?

Technically you didn’t say anything in agreement.

True.

The dick deserved it anyways.

Also true.

Quick, while he’s on his ass whining like a little girl lets make a run for it!

Good idea!

I quickly jumped to my feet. With my hands finally free - He must have untied them while I was staring at the amazing room - I made it to the door before it swung open from the other side, hitting me square in the face, knocking me down to my back, and everything went black.

Note to self: Slow down when approaching doors.