Operation #00 { h.s }

#04

I woke up with a pounding headache, like fuck. I don't I've had a headache this bad. I slowly get up, my vision blurry, but I feel something pull me back. I open my eyes and jesus.

My heart starts pounding so fast.

Where am I?

I look down to the bed, and my hand handcuffed. I look around the room, panicking. Oh my god. Where the fuck am I?

I start breathing quickly tears already falling. I'm shaking uncontrollably. Do my parents know I'm gone?

All the memories from what happened are starting to come back to me. The last thing I remember is a gun and a cloth. I shiver at just the thought of it.

I look around the unfamiliar room. Its dimly lit and its' very plain. There's a double bed that has purple sheets that match the wall colour, there's a small bedside dresser and a larger one that similar which leans against the wall with a mirror hanging above it . There's a door which I can only assume is a closet. There's a dark grey rug on the floor and a few paintings on the wall, other than that the room is completely empty.

I tug at the handcuffs keeping me locked to the bed, but they don't budge. I get up from the bed, standing on the wooden floor and trying to move with the little movement available.

Suddenly, I hear the door open and my eyes immediately dart over. I climb back onto the bed, covering myself with the blankets and frantically wiping my tears.

I never say this, but right now I'm scared shitless. Why would anyone kidnap anyone else?

The realisation starts to sink in and my face goes as pale as a ghost.

Why does he actually want me?

So many ideas are coming to mind and none of them are good. What if he's going to kill me. What if he uses me as some sick sex slave. What is he tortures me. What if he sells me into sex trafficking.

Tears start flowing more and more and I feel myself starting to hyperventilate. Never thought I'd say this, but I really want to go home.

His is the only time I want to hear my father yelling, or my mom giving about me not seeing my brother.

Zack.

I'm never gonna see him again, and I missed my chance to see him because of what? He left when he had a right to?

I'm starting to realise how much of a bitch I was, oh god.

"Finally, you're up. You've been out for ages" the man says leaning against the door frame. "Thought you'd never wake up" he says, chuckling.

This is my first real look at him. He's very tall and well built. His hair is about shoulder length, brown and curly. I couldn't see is features from this far, but he was wearing grey sweatpants and a tank top that exposed some of his chest.

He has many tattoos going up his arms and some on his chest from what I could see.

I say nothing, slightly backing away until I hit the wall the bed was against.

"Not talkative?" he asks, making his way towards he bed, sitting at the edge, farthest away from me.

"Who are you?" I ask, trying to sound stern, failing miserably. It ended up sounding more like a whisper.

"Aw, is baby scared?" he asks taunting me, swirling his toothpick in his mouth, smirking.

"No-o.." I answer, but truthfully I'm fucking shitting my pants, but he can't know that.