Vivid

I

The first day I met him got my heart pumping harder than it had in most of my existence. I was in a stadium, full of thousands of people, but we somehow connected. I was sitting in a tall booth at one of the small restaurants that the stadium had. I was just finishing my food when I heard shouting.

"Stop him! Somebody stop that kid!"

Curiosity killed the cat, and I slipped out of my booth. Straight into a sprinting body. He had a motorcycle helmet over his head that slammed into my shoulder as he fell onto me. All the weight of his body forced the air out of mine and I was gasping on the ground like a fish.

"Shit." A voice above me said. I looked up at him, and saw my face in the glass of the tinted helmet. My eyes were bulging out of my head and my hair and baseball cap were a mess near the top of my head.

"Move," I was barely able to moan, but thankfully he heard me, or decided my face looked a little bit too red to be healthy, and stood up, pulling me with him. It wasn't until I was standing on my own two feet that I looked around. Security surrounded us, their guns pointed level with his chest. Suddenly he grabbed my neck and pulled me into his body. 

"Let me go." I forced out of my mouth, in an effort to be brave. He tightened his hold around my neck instead.

"I am going to walk out of here safely, nobody will try to be a hero, and I will leave, without anyone following me, or she dies." He spoke, his voice seemingly careless as if he hadn't just threatened my life.

"We don't make negotiations with criminals boy," the man closest to us shouted venomously. The "boy" didn't seem to care about that, instead he just gave a nod to the sky, and they all looked up. He took a step back, and I felt my shoulders and head being pulled back with him, making me lose balance and fall. He kept taking steps back, getting faster and faster and I wasn't able to keep my feet up with him without tripping over his feet and getting my neck squeezed even tighter, yet I couldn't figure out what to do. The security team was looking back and forth from their leader to us, unsure of what to do. 

"Help! Please don't just stand there!" I shouted in desperation. 

"I've got snipers on the roof, pointed at the chief. They're not going anywhere." He said into my ear and I would have given some kind of reaction, had I enough breath in my lungs to do so.

I heard his back slam into a door and suddenly I felt the sun on my face. It would have been a nice day out, low 70's and not a cloud in sight. However I didn't get a chance to look up at the sky and see how beautiful the it looked, instead I heard shouting and felt something hard and blunt hit my head. The first hit blurred my vision and I cried out like a child. I don't remember the second one.

I woke up in an unfinished basement, the cold cement under me gave no comfort, and I could hear footsteps on the floor above me.

Light was flooding in through two windows, each with a metal grate covering them, and there were wooden stairs that had stains that got heavier the farther I looked. From where I was positioned I could see light through the crack at the bottom of the door, a door that appeared to have no lock in sight. The light under the door suddenly was blocked by two massive feet and I quickly stood up and ran to behind the stairs. 

Hopefully the man coming down the stairs would go one way to come get me and I would be able to run out the other way. I was barely able to hear his descent he moved so quietly so it would be nearly impossible for me to escape by hearing where he is. Instead I'll have to rely on luck, which so far hasn't exactly been in my favor. I decided on going left and quickly and as quietly as I could I turned the corner and ran up the stairs.

I heard the man swear when I opened the door to the basement and I was faced with an empty hallway. I turned down the hallway and sprinted out of the house as fast as my body would let me. 

I opened the door to see that I was in a rural neighborhood. There was a street up on a hill cutting through the manicured lawns and I started running down it. There had to be cars driving down the road at some point. Suddenly I heard the door slam and I made the mistake of looking behind me to see if the man was following me.  As I turned my head, my body followed and I very quickly found myself falling down the steep hill, quite literally going head over heels for a good second or two. When my vision stopped spinning I looked to see that the man was running towards me. He would reach me in only a matter of seconds, so I scrambled up and ran into the treeline that was ahead. As quickly as I could I scurried up a pine tree. I made it about five feet from the ground when I felt a harsh tug on my calf. The light and swift grip that had been controlling my hands was easily pulled from the branch and I felt myself hit the wood I had been standing on before I hit a bed of pine cones. 

The man was now standing over me, his expression undecipherable and chilling. I kicked at his shin and instead of jumping back, he fell on top of me, pinning me to the ground. I tried to swing at him, but he instead turned me onto my stomach and pulled my arms behind my back and held them there with his hand, using the other one to further shove my chest into the ground until I was gasping for air like a fish out of water.

"Oh you really shouldn't have done what you did." He said and increased his pressure on my back.

My eyes were drooping and my chest felt as if it were being burned while I was still alive. With remorse I felt my eyes close and I passed out once again.

Once again I woke up in the cold, unfinished basement, however this time I was tied to the metal grate with both my hands behind my back.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't wake up," The man that chased me spoke, "I didn't think I pushed that hard."

He was looking at me like he expected some kind of response, however, when he received none he simply raised an eyebrow.

"You must be one of those silent types," He said, "That's going to get very old very soon."

"You, my friend, are very unlucky, not only did you somehow manage to get yourself kidnapped, you caught the eye of my son."

He looked as though he was in his mid thirties, which gave way to concern, who knows how old his son is.

"And my son and I aren't on the best of terms sweetheart." The way he said this made my heart beat faster, his lips turned upwards in a cruel smile.