Wanted by Loved Ones

Captured

My fingers grope for the cover of my sleeping bag and I shiver. Oh, how I would just love to snuggle into the warm covers of my bed. But that wouldn't be very nice. Everyone has to sleep on the floor so it's only fair that I should, too.

Sniffle, sniffle.

My eyes flutter open and I shift so I am on my side and slightly propped up by my elbow.

The sound of someone sobbing fully awakens me and I look around the room.

Someone is standing up, near the door. No, not standing. Pacing.

I see long dark hair and glasses. "Grace?" I whisper.

But she doesn't hear me because she is too busy continuing her nervous pacing.

Before I can ask her what is wrong, a group of men rush through the door. They are all dressed in black and are as swift and silent as ninjas. Professional ninjas.

I stare, unable to open my mouth, as Grace and one of the men start to talk. And then argue. It becomes intense, to the point where Grace raises her hand to slap him but the man stops her and pulls out a--syringe(!?!) and plunges it in her upper arm.

My eyes widen as I watch her go limp while another man carries her out the door.

Shocked at myself, I start to wonder why I am not doing anything. And then I see them. Thin wisps of smoke, curling around each of the sleeping bodies on the ground, including mine. My muscles are frozen and I can't move an inch. What is this? Some type of prank? Why the hell can't a move?!

Then, horrified, I watch as each of the strange men dressed in black stick syringes into Brittni, Matt, Leroy, and Holt.

Suddenly, I feels a sharp sting at my arm and my eyes start to close, slowly.

The last thing I remember is seeing someone lean over me, shouting over their shoulder at the men. The figure starts to cradle me and brush my hair back from my face, gently...

***

Shuffle. Shuffle

"Will you stop moving around, I'm trying to sleep," I grumble to Holt.

"It's not Holt," someone responds.

I blink a few times and then fully open my eyes to find...Matt?

"What are you doing in my room?" I ask him, shocked.

"We're not in our room, Violet. Look around," he says, sadly.

I sit up and realize he's completely--terrifyingly--right. The weirdest part is that when the memories of last night come bursting through my mind, the only thing I can think of is the fact that I'm lying on the most comfiest bed I've ever slept in...ever.

I look down and notice that I'm on a very large, white and red bed. The room is--what seems to be--a hotel room. An incredibly expensive hotel room. Like the Hilton.

"Where are we, Matt?" I ask, frightened.

"I don't know," he confesses, head hanging low.

"Where is everyone?"

He points behind him to the floor. "Sleeping. On the ground."

I peer over the edge of the bed to see everyone--Brittni, Grace, Leroy, and Holt--all alseep below me.

"How am I the only one on the bed?" I ask, curiously.

"I don't know." His eyes stick to the bed and I almost want to ask what he is thinking. Knowing Matt, it's probably something worth recognizing.

But deciding not to go into it, I say, "I think we should wake the others. Try to figure out where we are."

"What's the point? I've been awake for a while and the only time that door opens," he says, while pointing behind him to the large white doors, "is when some guy in black shoves a tray of food in here. That's it."

We sit in silence for a while. Our thoughts and ideas too painful to share.

Suddenly remembering that I was the only one awake to witness last night, I say, "I was awake last night, when they came."

Matt snaps back to the present and says, "Who came?"

"I don't know exactly but when I woke up in the middle of the night, I saw..." I trail off, the memory of Grace arguing with the man in black hitting me with a fresh wave of confusion and curiosity.

"I saw Grace. Talking to one of the men that snuck into our room. She was arguing with him, and then she was going to slap him but...he shoved a syringe into her. And then...she went limp and another guy took her out of the room," I say slowly, my mind going over every word I say in my head, reliving it all.

"Then, they did the same to you guys and then me..." I decide not to add the part with the figure carrying me and brushing my hair. I don't know why but it felt like the right thing to do.

Matt's wide-eyed now, eyebrows raised. "Wait, what do you mean by arguing? Grace was talking to one of them?" he asks, his forehead now crinkled in confusion.

"Yeah. Maybe I saw this wrong but, from what it seemed, it looked like they knew each other. She wasn't very surprised to see them. I mean, I was completely in shock when I did but she was pacing in front of the door when I saw her...as if she were waiting for them." I stop and wonder if I should've spoken my thoughts aloud. What if I'm wrong, what will they think of this assumption?

"I don't know about the last part but it does sound pretty strange. Now that you mention it, Grace has been acting odd lately. Brittni mentioned the phone call with me. I hope you don't mind."

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. It was right for Brittni to tell you. You guys have known her longer than I have and if there was something that was off, you guys would know more."

"Thanks but I don't know if we know Grace at all, if what you say is true." Matt looks, cautiously, at Grace who's on the floor like the rest of them, sound alseep. Her face is so innocent in her sleep that the last thing you would expect is for her to be apart of our capture.

Then it hits me. "Matt!" I exclaim, panic growing in my chest, hitting me in icy spikes. "I think I know who has captured us. I think I know why we're here."

Matt waits.

"The other organization. They found us, Matt! They've captured us and now were...in big trouble." I fall back onto the bed in defeat. I know who it was now, the one who yelled a the men and carried me so gently. It was my father.