Kidnapped

Lisa

"Wake up, you lazy thing." Not the nicest morning greeting I've ever heard. I open my eyes.

In front of me is a man, about six foot two. He is covered in muscle and tattoos and a bikie moustache dangles itself over his top lip. His eyes are a pale blue, paler than the sky. He smells like beer and cigarettes and I doubt he has washed since he was four. I hold my nose.

"I stink, do I?" He bellows, louder than Kocco's monkey screams but deeper too.

"Yes." I answer, the smart aleck in me coming out ten fold.

 He glares at me. "I think we got the worse of the two." He bellows over his shoulder. I make a face at him and he pulls my hair. I kick him. "Feisty too." He mutters under his breath.

"Untie her." A voice rings out from somewhere I can't see, probably behind me. It sounds formal, bossy and straight to the point, like it belongs to a politic. The big man starts untying me and as soon as he's done I get up and spin around.

In front of me stands a man at least a head and shoulder smaller than me. A huge change to the giant who untied me. His coal black hair is gelled back in Elvis Presley style and his face is set and hard and cruel like a cold iron rock. He wears a black tuxedo and he smells faintly of blood. Not a nice smell. He's eyes are a deep blue but instead of being comforting they send shivers down my spine.

I pretend not to be scared and laugh.

"You are in charge of him?" I emphasize the words 'you' and 'him'. I smirk and he scowls. Just to make him madder, I copy him and scowl. He spits at me so I spit at him. He turns back to the big man.

"You were right about her being the worse of the two." He says. His words are lined with acid. It's meant to offend me but it doesn't. I decide to offend him anyway.

"And I was right about you being the worst of the two. Man, it looks like I underestimated your size. Ahh, I'm so scared." I say sarcastically and laugh. He glares at me.

"Shut your gob squirt." He turns to the big man. "Mouse, chuck her in the bars."

Mouse? That's that giant's name? Figures.

Mouse salutes.

"Yes, Sir." He grabs my arm and leads me down the concrete corridor.

'The bars' turns out to be an old jail cell with concrete walls and some words painted on the wall with cheap paint so chipped I can only read about half of them. Mouse shoves me onto the old dusty bed and locks the door. I lie down and my eye catches a little note scribbled on the wall in pencil. I take a closer look. It says:

This is the part where I break free.

I smile. It's good to know that somebody else was here before me, and that they escaped the tiny suited man's clutches, even if I still have no idea if they got away.

I collapse back onto the bed and try to imagine what sort of person they might have been. Boy or girl? How old where they? What colour hair did they have? Was there more than one? I fall asleep with those thoughts still swimming laps around my head.

When my eyes finally flutter open the room is still dark. I don't know what I expected. Light? Definitely not.

The bared door creaks open and I jump to my feet. It's Mouse. He looks at me with what I think is a look of pity but then the look disappears and he shoves me against the wall.

"Got your breakfast." He grins an evil sort of grin and I gulp.

He walks over to a dusty three-legged table in the corner I didn't see before and sets down a tray. It's got one sausage, a piece of toast and a Weetabix on it. The Weetabix isn't even in milk, it's just dry. I take a closer look at the sausage. It has small green blobs on it and when I look even closer I see it's mould. I smell it, and then gag straight away. Everything smells like it's been rolled in dog poo twice then been sprinkled with pepper. It must be off.

Mouse looks at me over his shoulder. "Stuff yourself. Next meal is dinner." He leaves the room and shuts the door. I sigh. Might as well start eating.