Hostage

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Turn

Chapter Two: An Unexpected Turn

2:17 AM

Gomez woke with a start; his phone vibrating loudly on his nightstand. He drowsily reached over and flicked on his lamp, cringing at the light. "Gomez." He answered into his mobile. "This better be pretty freaking important, Jackson."

"I apologize for waking you," Jackson muttered. "But we've got another body..."

"Already?" Gomez demanded, bolting up in bed. "Who does this guy think he is?"

"Well apparently he's not slowing down," Jackson snapped. "All I know is that we've just found another Jane Doe and our killer is on the loose, so you need to get your ass down here ASAP."

"Where did you find the body?" Gomez asked, rolling out of bed and jerking his uniform pants over his legs.

"Her body was found in her front yard on 123 W. Maple street. A neighbor called it in..." Jackson's voice drifted off. "This body was planted as well."

Gomez nodded, buttoning his shirt up as he reached for his jacket. "Send the address to my phone. I'll be there in a few minutes."

ψ

2:38 am

The room was dark... almost pitch black; and she was fast asleep. Her bedroom window was closed and locked from the inside: the nighttime lights streamed in from the flaps in the blinds. Eerie shadows danced across the walls and the city sounds echoed softly in the house.

The figure opened the bedroom door, careful not to make a sound and calmly removed a syringe from inside his trench coat. He slowly made his way across the room, careful not to disturb anything. Not that she would care- after all, she'd be dead...

It surprised him of how one of his Father's Favorites had been sent to stop him- and now he would crush his Father's plans.

The girl stirred in her sleep, her forehead creasing as if something was wrong.

Bleeder held his breath, hoping and praying that his Father hadn't attempted in waking her. She rolled over onto her side, the bed springs squeaked like a frantic guinea pig.

But she didn't wake.

She was so beautiful- even in sleep. her long, dark hair was fanned out around her, cascading over her shoulder against her white sheets. Her eye lashes were long and elegant and her lips were full and pink. She was one of the Favorites... A Daughter of the King.

She was wearing a white undershirt above her torso; the rest of her hidden beneath the blankets.

Bleeder advanced and a squirt of the narcotic out of the syringe. He advanced her bedside, inhaling the scent of lavender perfume that surrounded her. A rag, soaked in chloroform, was in his other hand as he quietly edged closer, angling the syringe at the base of her neck.

The girl's eyes shot open as she rolled away from the syringe and sat up; a semiautomatic in hand, "I take it that you're the one they're calling Bleeder." she said, keeping the firearm level at his chest. "Put your hands up where I can see them!"

"It seems as if you are correct, Miss Samantha," he smirked, taking her behavior to account. "As you wish," he chuckled darkly, raising both hands to honor her request.

He might as well give her one final wish before she passed on.

"How do you know my name?" she demanded, anger flickering in her hazel eyes.

"How do you not recall me?" He smirked. "You're puny, mortal mind seems far less equipped than I had previously remembered.

"I've never met you in my entire life!" She protested. "You're crazy, you know that?" she tossed her legs out of bed and stepped onto the white carpet, never taking her eyes off him. She kept her semiautomatic at his chest, finger on the trigger.