Finding Tristan ✓

22: Surging Confidence

"Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die."

Kylie

"Come out like the murder you are! You are no man; you are a monster!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I awoke from unconsciousness and got on my knees. I could feel the pebbles on the wet dirt sinking into the flesh of my knees. I did not bother questioning to why or how I ended up here in the woods.

I could already feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins; it was as if this wasn't the real me. I was either being controlled or my mind was completely corrupted by surges of livid emotions. My head was pounding and the entire arch of my back was insanely sore. I looked down towards the lower half of my body and saw a gunshot wound. Blood seeped through my t-shirt and slide down my bruised and battered legs.

I rolled my hands up into fists, roughly grasping the dead leaves in my very palms. "Go ahead! Kidnap me and kill me like you killed Luke! I will not let you hurt the people around me anymore!" My lungs were constricted against their own will as hot tears seared down my rosy cheeks. I bit back a wail and punched a tree that was near me.

I continued to hit it until my knuckles started to bruise up and bleed. My breathing ragged, I stood up and grabbed a rusty metal pipe from behind one of the shrubs. I could feel tingles crawl up my forearm as the cool metal came in contact with my skin. A twig snapped and I whirled around to find nothing. "If not, I'll fucking bash your face and make you choke on your own teeth!"

I clenched my teeth together and suddenly heard a malicious growl coming from a couple feet ahead of me. "What makes you think I would want to murder you, darling?" My eyes flickered to my very right and air suddenly got caught in my throat. My fingers shook as I stood my guard and directly met eyes with Marcus. "Do you not realize how long I have been waiting for this moment?"

The figure who was cladded in all black and wore a fox mask stepped forward from his hiding spot. I staggered away from Marcus each small step he took towards me. "S-Stay back!" I held up the heavy rusted metal pipe in front of me defiantly, but my voice showed my true feelings. I still couldn't help but to fear the malice of his presence. I could see the black fog encasing around his body like some kind of aura.

Marcus was like the king of darkness, but only more bipolar and deadly than what he actually seemed. He launched himself forward, causing me to drop my metal pipe in shock. I turned around and broke off into a sprint, pumping my legs forward as fast as they could take me. The cold air bit at my ears and chest as my surroundings started morphing into a snowy tundra. My entire body turned numb as the wind howled through the night.

Marcus's laugh pierced the air just inches behind me. I could practically feel his warm breath beating against the crook of my neck, causing shivers to rack up my spine. My chest burned as my anxiety attack started to become evident. I tripped over a thick tree root and my body flew forward, causing me to roll down a hill. I crashed into a tree stump and black spots invaded my vision.

Just as I felt my head jerk back from the force of Marcus roughly pulling me up by the hair, I let out a blood-curdling scream and continued to struggle against him. I scratched him and hit him with all I had, yet he still wouldn't let go. Blood continued to pour from the wound of my stomach. My vision became blurry and my surroundings were disfigured. I eventually gave up because of the amount of exhaustion and pain I was facing.

That was when I woke up to my mother shaking my shoulders. She looked frightened of my condition and she sighed in relief when my eyes flew open. Out of instinct, I slapped her hands away and backed off towards the wall over on the other side of my bed. Linda gave me a tight smile and handed me a small present box. "I found this at the door, so I'm assuming one of your friends must have wanted to give this to you."

I stiffened at the sight of the silky red bow that tied everything together. My mom set the white box on the nightstand and left my room. I slowly pulled the string and removed the bow. I moved my lava lamp off to the side and opened the box. There was plenty of decorative shredded paper resting on top of whatever was in store for me.

I reached my hand inside of the present box, my fingers brushing over another smooth surface. I grabbed the thin sheets and pulled them out, my face draining of color. They were freshly taken pictures of Tristan tied up to a wooden chair in the corner of what it seemed to be a dirty old cell. He had his hands behind his back; his eyes and mouth were duck taped closed. He was clearly unconscious by the way his body was hunched forward.

I didn't spot blood, so I assumed that he wasn't severely harmed. But then my mind flashed back to the question of how Marcus might have knocked Tristan unconscious. The mad man could have hit him in the head with a baseball bat. Marcus could have strangled Tristan until he lost unconsciousness. That monster could have forcibly given him sedatives by syringe.

I sorted out the pictures on my work desk and laid them out in an organized manner. I turned off the light and brought out a container of white fingerprint powder and poured a thin layer on all of the five photos. I lifted up the floorboard and brought out a smaller duster and some scotch tape from my secret compartment. The powder glowed in the dark, so once I was able to dust off all of the excess powder, I immediately placed a strip of tape down on two of the pictures. I cleaned everything up and then carefully removed the tape. I slowly placed the fingerprints in a ziplock bag and closed it off for later.

I trashed the present box and placed the pictures in a separate envelope along with the bag of fingerprints for Mr. Fletcher to look at. If he was able to identify Marcus, then he would be able to have access to all of that man's information. I knew Mr. Fletcher was capable of a lot of things, such as tracking criminals down and putting his resources to some good use. And I knew for sure that Tristan had his cellphone on him; every electronic device in town had this mini-chip that would be able to carry out signals to all federal departments. I didn't have the time give up on my hope just yet, and it was about time that I started fighting back using the smarter way out.