Luck // Clark Kent

Save me

        I woke up lightheaded. Groaning at the aching pain on my neck, back and legs. Hissing at the rope that was harshly tied up around my wrist and ankles. I was sitting down on a chair, tied down to be particular.

        Until someone has back slapped me, and I felt my lip split at the contact of its ring. "Wakey, wakey, Lauren."

        I groaned once more, squeezing my eyes shut at the pain. "Stop," I whispered. The voices were muffled, everything was still unfocused. I wouldn't question how he knew my name, he probably saw my bag.

        The person back slapped me once more on my other cheek, making a small cut below my right eye. "You killed three of my men, luckily, the fourth survived at your bullet." The voice was slowly getting clearer, and it was raspy.

        Ah. Now I remember why I was in this situation. If you think I was so calm about this, you're incorrect. My heart was pounding forcefully against my chest. I was never kidnapped before and I was not going to make this a habit.

        "Should have shot him twice," I grunted, slowly opening my eyes.

        He gave me a deep cut on my left thigh with a sharp object, and I screamed at the pain, making me closed my eyes again, "Fucking..!" I trailed, not able to continue at the distracting pain. My tears started rolling down my cheeks, hissing as it contacted with the small cut.

        He caressed my head, sliding his fingers through my hair that became tangled, "You should have gave them what they wanted."

        I heaved deeply, still hissing, "As if I will let them touch me and —"

        He slid a knife on my arm, making another deep cut and the blood started pouring heavily. I screamed once more, I sobbed at the pain, "Stop!" Then I fell unconscious.

—

        I woke up once again, so suddenly because of the sting from my arm and thigh. I screamed and flinched as I saw that he was pouring alcohol on my wound. "Get away from me!" My heart was beating abnormally.

        "Wakey, wakey again, Lauren. Took your time sleeping."

        I focused on him, but it was unclear as my vision was covered in tears that he had caused me.

        "You know. I was debating if I should let my men fuck you. Especially the one you've shot, want to make it up to him?" He made another cut on my arm, deeper than the first one. I was becoming lightheaded at the loss of blood.

        I spat on his face. He closed his eyes at the contact and wiped it, I pissed him even more. He heavily pressed the cut on my thigh. I screamed once again, sobbing at the aching pain. "Please, stop!" I felt the muscle in my leg stretched.

        He laughed, "Another thing. We're lucky that Superman didn't saw us."

        "You sadistic shit!" I spat blood on the ground. Tasting the metallic liquid on my tongue.

        He made three deep cuts, counting, "This is for the one who you shot in the heart," he slid it near to my hips, slicing my slacks at the process, "This is for the one who you shot in the lungs," he lifted my shirt and slid it down to my ribs, "And this is for the one who you shot in the head," he placed the knife firmly against my neck where my artery was.

        I was hissing and groaning. I don't want to die yet. I fear death. I fear it because I wouldn't be able to see Clark and Zach.

        I held my breath and sat still.