Tronnor : Hostage

Chapter 5.

10th October 2016.

6:00am.

Connor's POV

I woke up.

My head was throbbing, my eyes forcing themselves to open as I began to sit up. I went to rub away the haze in my vison and I suddenly felt weighted down, like my hand couldn't move. I shook my head a few more times, before staring down at myself, gulping at the sight in front of me.

My hands were tied.

I desperately tried to struggle, a new burst of energy beginning to rage through my body. I suppose it was my survival instinct. My body sensed danger, so it filled with adrenalin as I tried to pull myself free.

It was pitch black.

I couldn't see where I was, or what my hands were tied with. All I could feel was the binding material scraping against my wrists, and the hard floor I was sitting on, my body clearly thrown against some sort of pipe, that I was very much secured to.

I stopped my body from flailing about, and desperately tried to think for a second.

Had I been kidnapped? Had I been kidnapped by the boy with the large blue eyes? How did he get me here? Did he kill Melissa?

I began to panic, my arms beginning to struggle again as I fought for freedom. The tears were welling in my eyes, and I suddenly became very aware of my surroundings. It was so cold, the place obviously quite large, quite old. I could feel the stone floor beneath me. It almost felt like the side walk, the stone clearly crumbling. It smelled. It smelled of something familiar, something I didn't like the smell of.

Liquor. It smelled of liquor.

Was it a brewery? I could just about make out two large cylinder objects to the left of me, both of them equipped with taps at the bottom of them and some sort of object at the top. I looked as hard as I could, for any signs to where I could be.

If only I had better lighting.

My brain suddenly kicked into action. My phone! I could use my phone. I tried to fumble around the best I could, with only my fingers free to feel through my pockets. I brow furrowed, and I searched again, the realisation now hitting me.

They had taken it.

"NO! GODDAMN IT!" I whispered in frustration, now bringing my knees up to my chest as I began to sob.

I was stuck.

I was someone's hostage.

9:00am

I don't know how long I cried, but it was enough to put me to sleep again. The next time I woke up it was lighter, my surroundings more clear as I looked up. I was right, It was a large room, a room with no windows, no possible escape. I could see the door, a metal rectangle that had been firmly locked, far out of my reach, as my skinny arms were tied down. I looked at the rope around them, now silently gasping as I saw my red wrists and the chafed skin, from where I had struggled. It was disgusting.

I could hear a siren. It was coming from the outside, getting louder with every second. My heart dropped, stoping suddenly as I prayed it was the police, as I prayed it was here to rescue me.

Who was I kidding? It went straight past, probably to help someone else.

I wondered if the police had been called. I wondered if I was now reported as a missing person. I didn't know how long I had been out of it, I wasn't sure whether my mum had realised I wasn't in bed yet. I hoped that she wasn't worrying, but that would be a long shot.

I felt bad about that.

My breath suddenly hitched as I heard a noise, the sound of shoes as people walked down the steps. For a split second I thought I would show them I'm awake, scream if someone came near me. But from the sound of it, they had to walk down many steps just to reach this room, so I was obviously out of earshot to any passers-by.

I shut my eyes.

"What are we going to do with him?" I heard a voice, and felt someone poke my chest with their finger. "We need to know what he has seen." I heard another one speak, as I felt the presence of a crowd forming around me.

"WELL HOW DO YOU SUPPOSE WE ARE JUST GOING TO GET HIM TO TALK KIAN?" I heard another one raise his voice, now pacing, as I heard his footsteps on the stone floor. They were clearly worried. Anyone would be I suppose.

"We will all guard him until he wakes up. Then I'll make sure he is dealt with, you watch." I heard him chuckle, walking away from me. I wanted to rip his head off, the inconsiderate asshole! No way would he get away with all of this. He would either end up in prison, or I would end up dead, which seemed like an easier option right now.

This would kill me slowly anyway.

Maybe they would torture me?

I found it very hard to hold my tears in at that point, my eyes acting as barriers to the flood of despair that was bursting behind them.

One way or another I was going to die.

No one got out of these sort of situations.

"Mellet, you take the first watch. Come on boy's" I heard the last of Kian's voice, as I heard the door swing open. He seemed to be the leader, but at the same time he sounded younger than me?

When the room fell silent again, I felt a body sit next to me. My heart sped up, as I felt them take my hand in theirs, suddenly massaging the broken skin on my wrists. I wanted to pull away at first, my brain telling me this person could hurt me, but as they stroked my hand so delicately, they seemed to grip onto it for dear life.

I could feel both of our hands shaking, theirs more than mine. Their hand felt so cold, but at the same time it felt comforting. I don't know why, but I liked it, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted them to let go.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you." I heard them mutter, my ears suddenly perking up at the voice. The fragile Australian tone. This was the voice I heard last night!

"I tried to protect you, tell them to leave you alone!" he carried on speaking, more to himself I think. I stayed asleep, or what he thought was asleep. I wanted to listen to what he had to say.

"I didn't know anything I swear! I didn't know they were robbing a bank, or th-that they had a g-gun!" he stuttered, now releasing his grip from my hand, and standing up away from me. I sensed that he was now pacing.

"I'm s-such a f-fuck up!" he whimpered, sliding down against something by the sounds of it. I felt the urge to comfort him, even if he was one of the horrible gang. He didn't seem mean like Kian, he sounded as if he had been forced into this.

I almost pitied him. I pitied my captor!

"If they h-had never seen, if they h-had never found o-out, I wouldn't have been involved!" he cried, now hitting something as I felt a bang jolt through my body. "I'm such a horrible person, I should have saved her, and I should have saved you! This should have been me!" The boy was so deep into hysterics, I wasn't sure what to do.

Should I talk to him?

"I don't even know you, I don't know your life, your story!" He cried. "Your life could be over now, because of them, because of me! A-nd...I'm s-so sorry f-for that! You don't d-deserve I-it!" he wailed.

"I don't even know your name!" He shouted.

"Connor." I whispered, loud enough so he could hear.

"Connor Franta."

And suddenly our eyes met again.