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I should've been more careful. But, caution is best when thrown to the wind. Turns out my vigilante work has rubbed some people the wrong way. So much so that I've become a wanted man.
It came as a surprise to me, as normally the police find my handiwork unconscious and bound. I've never known anyone of my captures to get away. Who would've spread the word about who I was? No one has seen my face, just video of my mysterious profile. Who ever this was targeting me really has it out for me, I might even consider them professionals.
This time crime found me, walking alone in the night. I wasn't even prepared for crime work just yet. All I heard was a van screeched to a stop behind me. I turn to see four guys jump out and tackle me, bagging me up and tossing me inside of the white van. The one plus to the situation was the fact that I got a single, solid punch in on one of the attackers. My guess is the guy with his foot planted firmly in my gut. The bumpy, unforeseeable ride is bad enough, the boot is just overkill.
"Holy cow... Your face is really swelling." A deep Russian accented voice mocks.
"Shut the hell up!" My sore, foreign attacker kicks my sore ribs.
"Stop kicking me! It's your own fault your eye's like that, if someone attacks you, wouldn't you fight back?"
"He's got a point." Another chum in the van agrees. They all sound Russian. I don't know what I did to gain their attention, I just know this might mean more trouble than I can handle alone.
I feel another kick in my gut.
"That wuz your own fault. Mocking your kidnapper!"
"If you would've asked nicely I might've come along willingly. I didn't have much else to do tonight."
"If you don't shut up, you won't be doing anything ever again!" Yet, another kick. This guy must be the sensitive one, a pretty boy no doubt.
"Relax, V. The boss is going to handle him."
"He better dammit. He better handle him good! My face still hurts!"
I can't help but snicker at his whining. Sure enough, I feel the boot lift from my body bag again.
"Stop V. Save some for the boss."
The foot comes down pretty hard and rests itself on my ribs again.
After a while, the van stops moving and the foot lifts from my ribs. I hear doors open and my bag gets pulled out of the back. I brace the back of my head as it slides from the van onto the ground.
"V! Get over it already! He's going to be fuzzy now. You know the boss doesn't like fuzzy marks!"
"It was an accident..." This V guy is a real jerk. I feel myself getting dragged on gravel before bumping up against a few thresholds as I pass through doors. Thankfully there doesn't seem to be any stairs, I'm sure V wouldn't carry me.
