Hostage

Chapter 4: Tortured

Chapter 4: Tortured

4:42 am

Jackson swore bitterly under his breath; "One of my agents, taken from her own home?" he swore again. "This cannot be happening!" He pealed his eyes off the road and at his distraught-looking friend; "Johnson, I want you to radio every officer in the county and send them to the old Theater. I don't think we're going to make it on time."

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5:56 am

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Her system was so full of narcotics drugs that Samantha couldn't remember much of anything.

The room was swimming. Her head was pounding; and her head flopped to the side as she attempted to get her bearings.

She was medically high from everything Charóth had injected her with and thus, practically useless. Instinctively she began to look for a way of escape, but could think of nothing. Then the realization of her broken and fractured leg hit her: even if she did manage to get free, she wouldn't be able to run.

Samantha had blacked out for a while because when she came to, she found herself laying on a cold, metal table. Her arms and legs were secured to leather straps (which in turn were nailed to the table). She came to find that she was only in her underclothes: a white, t-shirt bra and matching boy shorts.

Samantha went into a panic. This demon was intending on sacrificing her to the Devil!

She fought against her bonds, trying in vain to move- but she couldn't.

She was numb.

Her feet dangled loosely off the edge of the table; useless as ever.

There'd be no means of escape this time, her many years of training never prepared her for this.

She couldn't even begin to know what to do.

"Hello, Samantha," Charóth's voice croaked. "It's about time," he smiled, cracking his knuckles.

The FBI agents head swam... What did he put in her? Morphine? Benadryl? Oxycotin?

"You know I can feel him?" He said, gesturing to his vessel. "Jonathan hates this-he despises me especially. I hijacked his body and BOOM, now he's the one kidnapping and bleeding the young women," he grinned wickedly. "He's yelling at me, and clawing up his insides to get back into control."

Samantha shuddered. "Let him go."

"Oh, I will soon enough," he promised. "My, my," his eyes glanced down at the Fossil watch on his wrist. "Look at the time! We'd better be moving forward."

The man pulled a wheeled chair up the base of the table and retrieved the apple core from his medic bag. His eyes roamed her body before he took her right foot with one hand, and brought the corer to her heel, pushing and twisting hard.

For a minute nothing happened. Then a sudden sensation hit her: dizziness. Light-headedness overtook her and threatened to cause her to sleep.

Something wasn't right.

Charóth let forth a violent string of profanity before finally rising to his feet. "Don't go anywhere." He ordered.

Her vision began to blur; she saw Charóth throw open door and disappear into the darkness.

She was alone now.

I'm not going to make it out of this one, she thought in anguish. All those years wasted...

Her thoughts switched to her family: the one she'd left behind to pursue her career. Her mother had always said that being an FBI agent would be dangerous and secretly, Mrs. Woods always dreaded something would happen to her daughter. Mom, you were right. She thought sadly.