Mayhem's Beginning (Everybody Changes)

Chapter 10: Taken

Curfew was long broken. It wasn't a big deal since Bradley and Adam would be working all weekend. They probably thought I was home alone and asleep by now, which was a good thing since it gave me leeway. What they don't know won't hurt them, right?

Walking along the streets of Manhattan was like watching a movie you've already seen. Everything was the same, you knew what was going to happen, but you notice things you haven't seen before. On the sidewalks I noticed blemishes that I didn't remember, cracks in streets that didn't stick out before, and small stores that I missed from my previous walk. I looked around a wall to search for a piece of gum I left hanging from the concrete. Yup, still there. It even compounded with the wall and turned a beige color.

Manhattan was always busy, even during this time at night. Las Vegas was given the title “The City that Never Sleeps,” but it seems as if Manhattan deserved such a name. I rustled through armies of people as they bumped into me, stepped on my shoes, jabbed with their elbows, and shoved others out of the way. Most New Yorkers were not very friendly. The stereotype Yorker had left a standard for the rest of us that was really hard to live down. “You don't seem like you're from New York.” People would tell me when I went out of town. Not that I left very often, just sometimes during Christmas or on a band trip.

“Watch where you're going!” a man shouted as he shouldered me. I didn't even get a chance to look at his face before he disappeared into the crowd. Shows how much hospitality Yorkers had towards their community, right?

I was finally beginning to enter the less populated areas of the city. After a few more minutes of walking the only company I had were the street lights. At times like these I felt a hint of two emotions. One being peace, and the other being paranoia.

Even for a harmless teenager such as myself it was dangerous. With the crime rates being at an all time high, no one was safe from the wrath of robberies, kidnappings, and even murders. Especially with the increased gang activity among New York's newest arrivals “The Pyros” and “The Crow's Feet.” On the news and throughout several articles I've read they weren't exactly portrayed as gangs, more like an organized militia or a group of urban insurgents. But all of them basically said the same thing... “Stay Away.”

Just as I was beginning to lose the paranoia I heard faint footsteps behind me. I didn't look back. “No biggie. Millions of people live in New York. Maybe this guy just has to go a similar way as me.” I continued walking but yet the footsteps continued to follow. They grew louder, and louder, soon sounding as if they were just a few feet behind. I picked up the pace to a half jog, putting some distance between us just in case. I turned corners, went down strange streets, completely disregarding my original path to get back home. Finally the thought hit me. “Was somebody following me?”

Who would want to follow me? I'm just a kid. I own nothing of value. My parents don't have an excessive amount of money. I tried contemplating all the things a kidnapper would want for ransom that Bradley and Adam might have. Nothing came to mind.

Maybe the stalker is an anti-gay activist looking to hurt someone dear to a gay couple? “Possibly.” Maybe I made someone really angry? “Highly improbable.” Maybe it was Chance? “He wasn't one to stalk.” Maybe they have a knife? “Don't even consider that.” Maybe they wanted to kill me. “...”

With that thought I could no longer keep my half jog, but yet busted out to a dead sprint. I have never found myself running so fast in my life. Perhaps if I was Speedy Gonzales during track season I'd actually make the team for once. There was one instinct running throughout every cell in my body, illuminated from all five senses I had. Survive.

I heard the faint foot steps turn into heavy boots pounding against the pavement, the signal that my accusations were right. I didn't know if this guy was searching for blood yet, but it's better to be safe than sorry. I made countless turns, hopped over fences, but the guy kept up as if this was his morning warm up. With one more trick up my sleeve, I had a final hope of getting away. I turned down the familiar alleyway that was a short cut to my home. Even with all the panic I had time to look down at the ground, my shoe prints still embedded in the dust.

I threw obstacles behind me, trash cans, boxes, anything that was in reach. I heard him yelling a few things, but I couldn't make out any words. Just up ahead I saw the front steps to my apartment building. Once inside I could give the receptionist, in whom I knew kept a shot-gun handy at all times, a signal to bring out the gun and warn the stalker to leave me alone. My freedom was almost in sight, the end of the alley was so near, just a few more inches and ---

SCREEEECH! The brakes of a black van with no windows slammed in front of the only exit I had. I drove my heels into the concrete and put my arms in front of me as I ran smack dead into the vehicle. The follower was faster than I thought for now I felt a rough hand on the back of my neck violently shoving me into a brick wall. My cheek slammed against the adobe first and I could see from one side as my head leaned against the surface. The man grabbed a hold of my arm and twisted it upwards until it was on the verge of snapping. “AHHH!” My breaths were heavy, coming in short gasps as my heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. “What do you want from me!?” I shouted.

I heard the sounds of a car door open, then slam a half a moment later. A man approached the side of me where I still had sight. He was a tiny, old, balding, and had gray hair. “Now, now, Mr. Mayhem...” his tone was sickly. It sent shivers down my spine. “...we promise that we won't hurt you. Survival isn't guaranteed, but it definitely won't be unbearable.”

The wind silently whispered throughout the alley as once again I debated several theories in why they are doing this. I thought it was quite strange how the man knew my name. He spoke it quietly and gently, and it rolled off his tongue so smoothly as if the syllables had been rolling around in his tongue for a while. It was obvious these guys knew me, but for what reason would they want to know me?

I once saw a movie called “Saw” in where a man in a mask kidnaps people and puts them in some sort of torture device. The device will kill you if you didn't complete the challenge that the man asked you to do. Maybe these guys were the real life Jigsaw? If so, why were they so open about letting their victim see who they were?

I struggled to get out of the man's grasp but it was no use. I couldn't see the guy who was holding me against the wall, but he was certainly not as weak as I was. He had power behind him, for with a simple lift of my arm he would be able to snap it like a twig. Outside the weather was freezing, but sweat beaded up on my forehead. What if these guys never let me go? Was this the last time I'd ever walk on Manhattan streets?

“Let me--” was all I could say before a tazer was shoved into my midst back. An agonizing defeat came as I felt a light foam beginning to drizzle out of my mouth. Bradley and Adam were the last two people who ran through my mind before I fell to my knees. I leaned my head against the wall and suddenly my eyelids were abnormally heavy. Black came, unconsciousness inevitable.