Abandoned (The Purge Fan Fiction)

Chapter 2: Rude Awakening

"Pass me a fag, mate," a husky voice urges to his companion across the pool table.

Gabe conveys an exasperated look, "Why, where are all yours?"

"At my place, I've got more important things on my mind. I'm trying to cut down on the cancer sticks, but I'm craving."

"Not my problem, I need mine to help me pull." He chuckles, "Of course, you don't need help in that department, with your new fuckbuddy. What's her face? Chloe?"

"Clarissa." Laurie's grip on the cue tightens.

This amuses him further. "Fancy sharing sometime, kid?"

Laurie takes a sharp intake of breath. Composing himself, He takes risky shot. Despite the overwhelming volume of witty retorts, he chooses to concentrate on potting the black ball. Triumphant, he turns to his friend, "No thanks, don't know where you've been."

Before they can continue their conversation, the slight movement of the petite figure slumped across the chaise-longue silences the room.

"Ay, you must have hit her good, mate, looks like she's waking up."

"About fucking time, it's been almost 3 hours." Clarissa interjects spitefully. "We've got a fucking stupid bitch here, Elijah'll love to mess with this one." She laughs musically.

"Keep your lady on a leash man, she needs to wash her mouth out."

"Shut up, Gabe." Clarissa snaps back, patience running out with the joker of the pack.

A pained groan reverberates off the walls, making the blonde of the group rise from her seat and leave the room to find Elijah, the Polite Leader.

The rest of the room carry on their conversations, ignoring the scum infecting their space.

The muffled sound of bare feet on hardwood, followed swiftly by high heels echoes through the room. Once again, the room is silenced as a mark of respect towards their leader.

When the footsteps cease and Elijah is standing confidently within the room, he surveys his followers. Knowingly, everyone takes this as their cue to leave, leaving only him and the awakening young woman alone.

He stares at the woman, judging her for her lack of civility. He wonders to himself whether she realises just how much everyone with any kind of self-respect despises her.

Curiosity takes over him as he tilts his head to the side, making some of his thick blonde locks fall into his icy blue eyes. He skulks forward, like a predator, stalking his unsuspecting prey. His full kissable lips curl into a sneer.

She still does not awaken; this annoys him greatly. He disrupts the silence with a single clap of his hands. This causes her to awaken from her slumber with a start.

This prompts him to withdraw a lighter the back pocket of his neatly pressed trousers. Terrified, she scrambles up from the sofa, hyperventilating in the foreign surroundings.

"What d-do you w-want from m-me?" She pleads, "W-who are y-you? Where a-am I?" She stutters, words falling into each other.

Condescendingly, he replies, "Y-your worst n-nightmare, s-s-sweetpea."

Sweat beads across her brow bone. "Please..." she appeals to his non-existent caring nature.

He smiles, "you must be hungry, darlin'"

She nods.

He leaves her salivating in the uncomfortably smoky room.

She takes a quiet step forward. This gives her a better view of the doorway to make sure that her captor is out of sight before making her next move.

She is defeated when she realises that there is no way for her escape to go unnoticed. Re-evaluating, she picks up a discarded snooker ball and tries to hide herself in the shadow of doorway. She hears the soft slap of skin on wood.

He sniggers and, in one swift movement, disarms her. He then presses the hard ivory into her skull. He then whispers, "Careful now, Sweetheart. We wouldn't want you getting in any bother, would we? Wouldn't want to hurt this pretty little face." He breathes, shocked at his own openness.

"...and it is very pretty."