love bites » marcelee.

28: Taken (Part 1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Taken (Part One)

Sitting on the dry grass patch at the top of a cliff under the starry sky, Marceline had to pinch herself a few times before finally concluding that one, it actually hurt, and two, this wasn't a dream.

"What're you doin'?" Marshall asked, intrigued by her odd body movements.

"I'm just...pinching myself to see if I'm dreaming." she answered in all honesty.

Marshall chuckled and gave a peck on the lips of an unsuspecting Marceline, causing her to blush. "There. Is that real enough for ya?"

She smirked as she felt butterflies in her stomach from his touch. She really did have her best friend, her boyfriend, right by her side. For once, she was sure-enough happy. They shared a moment together. Sure, it was quiet, but at least it wasn't awkward. They were both way past that stage. It was more of a comforting silence.

After a while, Marshall nudged Marceline and she looked up at him.

"Wanna start a fire?" he suggested.

She peered at him for his conjuration of such idea. "I don't know..."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Marshall urged, pulling Marceline up with him. "I'll go find some firewood."

She tittered as she watched him jog into the woods, going out of sight, amused by his sudden adventurous mood at a random timing. In the meantime, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to let a bit of warmth envelope her. She got a gut feeling that she was being watched. She sensed that something else was lurking in the woods behind her but she brushed it off as her imagination. She's just tired, she thought.

A minute or two later, Marceline heard shuffling footsteps and leaves rustling behind her. It progressively became louder as it got closer. Thinking that it was Marshall, she turned around. Her smile fell, replaced with widened eyes and gaping mouth. Her heart went into her throat. She couldn't breathe.

She was toe to toe with the mysterious dark figure from before. Face shadowed beneath a hood, the armless being was cloaked in black, and she could feel its eyes boring into her. A chilling spasm of terror stabbed through her body. She stood rooted to the ground. Her nightmare had came. This time, it was finally close to her.

"NOO!!!"

And then it all went black.

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Marceline woke up.

As she peeled her eyes open, they started to adjust to the dimness. She groaned, feeling a vicious pounding in the back of her head. It wasn't a normal headache, either. More like crowbar-straight-to-the-skull headache. Where was she even? Once she was able to see better, she realized that she was in a room, propped against a wall. The only light came from a tiny, flickering glow of a hazy yellow bulb dangling precariously from a badly gnawed wire. It appeared that she was in some basement.

Then it all came back to Marceline. The cliff in the woods. The kiss Marshall and her shared. Her officially becoming his girlfriend. Him getting firewood. The dark cloaked figure. Her getting knocked out. And waking up in this dark, musty place. Upon that recollection, she was up on her feet lickety-split, frantically searching for an exit. She didn't plan on dying in some dingy basement. Not today. Not ever.

At the far end of the room, she could muzzily make out stairs leading up to a door. She ascended the rickety steps, careful not to plunge her feet forcefully into the rotting wood. With every step she took, the stairs threatened to collapse under her weight. Finally at the top, she tried to turn the doorknob. It was locked. No, no, no. A thread of panic wrapped around her.

And then Marceline heard something. She held her breath and put her ear against the door. Footsteps. She couldn't go back down, the stairs would creak too loud. Shutting her eyes, she brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a whimper. Her chest was tight, her stomach rotten. She would not move. No matter how close those shuffling footsteps came, she would not make a sound. She would not, she would...not...

The footsteps halted. She opened her eyes. A click in the latch. This was it. The door swung open and by some marvel, she summoned the courage and willed her legs to move, shoving past the kidnapper. Dashing down the hallway, she was incognizant of the direction she was going but she took the most sensible route and headed towards what seemed like the front door. The exit. She was almost there. Her hand grabbed the doorknob, turning it fully to pull the door open.

But before Marceline could step out, she was yanked back by her hair and slammed down, the back of her skull hitting the hard floor. A shooting pain rocked her head and seemed to flow down her neck and into every cell of her body, like a tidal wave, crushing everything in its path. She groaned and grimaced, holding onto her dear head with both her hands.

The next thing she saw was the door, her only way out to freedom, being slammed shut. The kidnapper hauled her writhing body across the floor by her arms. She yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the walls of the house. He pinned and tied her down onto a chair with ropes. Her screams for help became muffled with a gag in her mouth. Cold fear gripped her as she began to imagine all sorts of things that could happen to her.

"Shhh..." the kidnapper put a finger to his lips.

The appearance of the kidnapper was almost abnormal, the bare sight of him would frighten little children. He was wrinkly green-skinned with a beard that had its end tied, and wore clothes made of rags making him look more like a hobo than a crook. But the thing that allegedly freaked Marceline out was that from the way he stood, it looked as if he had no arms. Oh.

He's the mysterious dark figure in the woods.

Her heart palpitated wildly in her chest and her breathing became rapid. The raggedy kidnapper stayed silent, the only sound in the room being his abductee's incoherent cries, her squirming on the chair, trying to loosen the ropes. He sneered creepily at her.

"It's good to see you again...Mar-Mar."

Marceline gaped at him as he shed off his outerwear, removed the shameful excuse of clothes and mask to reveal the true person beneath the disguise. The person who had ruined her life and left her broken. The person who she never wished to see ever again. The person who she feared would come back and haunt her in real life like how he did in her nightmares.

Ash.