A Little Bit Ninja

7: Meet the Kidnappers (Revised)

This Chapter is dedicated to the insanely hilarious CinderScoria. I don't think I've ever had as much fun reading comments in my life. Ever. It doesn't matter to me that you are a shady old man with a feline fetish--as long as you live far, far, away from me. ROFL

Check out her story Oops, it's pretty dang funny, plus action packed--Two of my favorite things.

Chapter 7: Meet the Kidnappers

“Sorry,” he sounded repentant, but that didn’t matter. I already knew he was into acting. He had me convinced that his friend was dying before he abducted me.

“I’m glad to see you got the bleeding under control,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.  He looked at me sharply, and quirked an eyebrow, as if I just added flavor to his day.

“I said I was sorry.” He cast his eyes downward for a moment before meeting mine again. I wasn’t sure which part he was apologizing for. There were so many things to choose from.  

“About what? Stalking me? Or lying to me? Or for shooting me? Or for drugging me? Or for kidnapping me? Or for tying me up? Pick one.” 

I looked out the door past him to see that we were no longer parked in front of my house, but in an industrial park that was empty for the evening. A large warehouse with rusted rivets stood behind him with blue lettering that said, “Wharton Fabrication Company.” I’d never heard of it, but I knew that there was a business park just a ten minute drive from my house.

“I need some information,” he said with a sigh.

“You’re welcome to ask,” I paused long enough to see the relief on his face, and then continued. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” I was a little bit proud that my voice came out saucy, and not the least bit scared.

His eyes lost all warmth and he narrowed them at me in a way that was actually quite terrifying.

 “Listen, Thriller girl, the only reason I offered to come instead of Igor was to make this easier on you. You should cooperate.”  

The threat was implicit in his tone, and he definitely succeeded in freaking the crap out of me. The blood drained from my face, and I was sure the guy saw the panic in my eyes. He broke eye contact abruptly, and started giving that muscle in his jaw a major work out.

But I didn’t really have the time to discover the meaning behind his reaction, because at the moment I didn’t have full bodily control, probably a lingering side effect of whatever drug they used to sedate me. Instead of breaking out into sobs, as would have been appropriate, I burst into laughter.

And after a minute I wasn’t just laughing because I was terrified. The whole situation was beyond hilarious. I’d spent years honing my body into a human weapon so as to avoid ending up exactly where I was now. Laughter quickly became painful when I couldn’t stop, and I couldn’t breathe with my arms tied in this awkward position. Soon, I was gasping for breath, desperately trying to stifle the urge to giggle.

Finally, I managed to stop, but not until tears of irony wet my cheeks. At least that icy look in Anton’s eyes had vanished and was replaced by worry. He wasn’t sure if I was sobbing or cackling, and I think the tears just confused him more. Heck, I didn’t even know if I was sobbing or cackling. That just made me crack up again.

I was having such a hard time controlling my laughter and my breathing at the same time, that Anton got the impression that I was choking. He crouched into the backseat and deftly moved me from laying face down, to sitting up.