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Chapter Three

My head moves against the back of the vehicle. It's a bumpy ride, so they must be taking me to remote place, no houses, just wood, grass and trees. I think I'm still in the woodlands.

I wouldn't know, I can't see.

One, because the back doesn't have windows.

Two, I was forced in here, threatened with a knife after I tried to punch my attacker.

Three, when your kidnapped, your supposed to be oblivious of the location.

And four, these four imbeciles don't seem to shut up. Meaning. I can't concentrate. Unfortunately, they woke up a few minutes ago.

All four of them are dressed in hunter clothes. They're definitely hunters. That would explain why they were shooting at the wolves until the cloaked, armed gentlemen shoved them in the back of the vehicle.

I just happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Not only that, I hate small spaces. At my first and last concert, I fainted due to the swarming, closed crowds. Small spaces are enough to make me have anxiety attacks.

"Hey, sugar", a lock of my hair is pulled in an attempt to stroke it, breaking my thoughts.

I slap the coarse hand away. The deep, annoying chatter circulated from the three other men stop.

"Oh, c'mon, Poppet." He purrs, his hands this time running along my arm.

I slap the hand away again. I have no idea how to defend my self. I should have taken that karate class over at California.

" I should have you know, I'm skilled in the art of origami." I bluff. I'm pretty sure that's some sort of Japanese fighting art. The three at the back exchange confused looks. Did they buy it?

" Paper-folding?" The one at the far end scratches his head and I sigh.

" I was hoping you wouldn't know what that is." I admit in a mutter to myself. 

"Just don't fucking touch me." I snap as the hobo in front of me looks me over once again. The same prick that was holding the gun. Maybe a sight of violence and aggressive behaviour may make thin think twice. However, it doesn't seem to work. The hunter who tried to stroke me, moves towards me.  I attempt to stand up only to hit my head.

Great. I'm in the back of a truck.

The pervert stands and reaches for my shoulders. Before I can do anything, he slams me against the steel back of the truck, my head gaining the most impact. This sends me on the floor, against the wall on my side.

" Boys," I can tell what the demand is behind his voice.

My head starts to go dizzy as does my vision. I scream as my thighs are separated and my hands are held up above me. I feel my top go over my head and a coarse finger traces my bare stomach.

This is it. This is actually happening. What the fuck do I do?

I scream. I scream burning my throat with incandescent flames until my hair is gripped, a hunter pulls it up before slamming my head on the hard material beneath us. That and the feeling of a small space is enough to make me dizzy. I can't see, everything starts to blur. My breathing hitches and turns into short and quick breaths as I feel all walls close in on me. As I feel the area around me suddenly seems minuscule, my inclining heart beat reaches my throat but I keep screaming. I am now oblivious even more. The only thing I notice is the sudden halt of the vehicle followed by foreign shouting. By this moment, my vision is pitch black.