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Member
Join Date: Jun 2007
Posts: 8
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Blow: i
'It's time.' A deep voice said softly.
She spun around, a brief scream escaping her lips that was quickly muffled by a cloth being shoved into her mouth. She knew that there was something wrong with today. Something was going to go horribly wrong. She had felt it inside her, and now as she helplessly fought her assailant, she knew she was right. The man was larger than her by quite a bit, so after a few feeble escape attempts, she figured it'd wiser to stay limp, and not aid her kidnapper in his deed. He grunted as he suddenly had all of her weight, shifted, and continued onward.
In her mind, Sarah began to wonder how this had even commenced. Her house was covered with anti-burglary alarms, and traps, and security devices galore. Basically her house was a fortress against intruders. The only way that someone could have gotten through that is either by knowing the passwords to shut off her systems, or by figuring out a way to hack the computer system. Either, she thought to herself, would take quite a bit of effort on said persons part, and that brought up another extremely valid, and probing question.
Why? What did someone want with her so badly, that they were willing to go through all of that trouble just to kidnap her. The man hadn't hurt her at all, hadn't drugged her, or raped her. He just had grabbed her and was carrying her towards something, a van most likely. Perhaps the torture would come later, she worried. Pushing the thought out of her mind, she continued to try and solve the mystery at hand. Who was doing this? Certainly not the man who carried her, he probably just worked for the true culprit.
She was a lower tier lawyer, with no children. Sure, she had made a name for herself in the small town she lived in, and was well off enough to be able to afford some of the nicer things in life, but other than that she hadn't done anything remotely interesting enough to be kidnapped. Shit, she hadn't even had any big cases that would be worth dealing with, mostly small claims and accidents.
Suddenly she felt herself get thrown into a vehicle. A van, she was right. She rubbed her knees, which had gotten bumped rather hard upon impact, and curled up against the side of the van preparing herself for the ride.
'Ms. Anderson.' A voice said from the back of the van.
'Wh..who are you?' Sarah responded, shakily. She hadn't expected to ride WITH someone.
'You'll know me in time. Very well.' The man said in an eerily calm voice.
'What the hell do you want with me?' She spat, a bit more confident now.
'A mutual friend dear, a mutual friend.'
.~.
Sniiiiiiiiiiff.
Snort, snort.
Sniiiiiiiiiiff.
Snort.
Tap, tap, tap.
Had you talked to Tyson DeBough about a year ago, he would have been the perfect role model for your child. You could have asked him about anything, and he'd have given you the correct answer, and believed it was true. He would have said 'Stay in School' and 'Don't do drugs' and all that jazz with a smile on his face. He had a good job, a good girl, a child on the way, and good friends. It all seemed to be looking up.
That was before.
Tap, tap.
Sniiiiiiiiff.
Tap, tap, tap.
Sniiiiiiiiiiff.
Snort, snort.
One mistake is sometimes all it takes to make someone's life go completely wrong. That's all it took for Tyson. One slip, and his entire life went down the drain. His girlfriend left him, and shortly after miscarried. He got fired the day after from his modeling agency, and most of his friends began to trickle away until he was undeniably alone. All for a small bag filled with white powder. It was a night he'd never forget. One that would affect him for the rest of his life no doubt.
.~.
Las Vegas, Nevada
Approximately one year before October 19th, 2006
My day had been absolutely horrible. Tim Sherman (my agent) woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and ended up booking some of the shittiest shoots I'd ever been in. The director was a fag (literally) and wasn't happy with anything I was doing even though he was the one directing, and the girls that I was in the shoot with were absolutely horrid. Not only were they ugly as sin, but they wouldn't leave me alone about 'hanging out' later on after the shoot, and grabbing some drinks. Fat fucks. Last time I do an overweight womens clothing shoot. I'll have to remember to fire Sherman later, and look for a new agent.
Finally, a few hours later the shoot ended, and I was free to go. I whipped out my cell phone and called Sherman, on the way out to my car. He answered after the second ring, as always.
'You dillweed.' I spat into the phone.
'What?' Came the groggy reply. He had been sleeping obviously.
'Fucking book me in a fat chicks commercial again. I dare you.'
He laughed. 'Liked that did you??'
I clenched my phone so hard I had to consciously tell my hand to loosen so I didn't break it. 'What the fuck's with you? You have a shitty day and you take it out on me?'
'No man, the ad said that it was a lingerie shoot, and that the women 'filled out' the outfits. I assumed they meant their bust size.' He said.
I rolled my eyes. 'Whatever Tim. You're fucking lucky that you pulled that out of your ass, because I'm going to buy it.'
'Sweet. My neck's off the line again eh?'
'For now. What's the plan?' I asked.
'Well, there's a promotional party tonight for the model agency. Just about the entire city is going to be there. And plenty of superstars. Jenna Jameson being one of them.' He paused, lustfully. 'I for one, will not miss the chance to accidentally brush her ass with my hand.'
Again, I rolled my eyes. 'Perv. What time?'
'Show kicks off at eleven. You down?'
'I'll be at your place at quarter to eleven.' I said.
'Rad. Later.'
I hung up the phone, and opened the door to my Mercedes SLK 500, black with a leather interior. It was my baby. My getaway from all that was wrong with the world. I got in and started her up, listened to the purr of the engine for a moment as always, and then backed out of my spot and headed for my house. It was eight now, which meant I had a couple of hours to kill before the party. Time enough to catch a quick nap.
I deserved it at this point.
.~.
She was tied roughly to a chair in a dark room. Where she was, she had absolutely no idea, but her head hurt like hell, and she could feel a trickle down the back of her neck. Blood, she assumed. She tried to remember what was going on, and slowly it all started to come back to her. She remembered the man in the van, and her assailant at her house. She still had no idea where she was though.
The door opened, shedding a burst of light into the small dark room, and a man with a mask entered the room. He crouched in front of her, and she could tell he was smiling, even through the mask. 'Tell me what I want to hear, and you walk out of here now.' He said.
'I don't know who, or what you want.' She said, spitting at him for good measure.
~WHACK~
His black gloved hand came down across her face hard, drawing more blood from her lip. 'You will cooperate, or you will suffer.' He said, all to calmly.
She breathed heavily, on the verge of tears but refusing to appear weak. 'Who do you want.' She forced.
'Tyson DeBough.'
.~.
They arrived at the party at about eleven thirty. Perfect timing to be greeted, instead being the greeter. When you were a model, even up and coming, the vanity factor affected your psyche. Tim went off for a while to find Jenna Jameson no doubt, and I attempted to mingle with some of the higher ups of the modeling crowd. I got snubbed a couple times, but I didn't let that dampen my mood. I saw the president of my agency, and approached her.
'Ms. Davis?'
She turned towards me, and immediately lit up. 'Tyson! How good of you to come!'
'You know me?' I asked, dumbfounded. She had hundreds of models that worked for her, yet she knew my name.
'Of course!' She said, her eyes dancing. 'You're my superstar!'
I didn't follow. 'Excuse me?'
'You have the highest number of jobs in the agency right now. Everyone wants to book you.' She said, and then eyed me. 'You didn't know that?'
My eyes narrowed, and quickly scanned the room for Tim. 'No, I didn't.' I looked back at her, making a mental note to find him later and ask him where my cut was.
'Let's introduce you to some people, shall we?? I want to show you off.'
We spent the next hour or so, introducing, and in some cases re-introducing me to various photographers, and famous people at the party.
Nobody snubbed me this time.
Tim came up to me around one, with an odd look in his eye. 'C'mon.' He said, grabbing my elbow.
'Where are we going?' I asked, while being dragged towards the bathroom. 'And what's with me being the number one model in the company?'
He stopped. 'You found out? Shit. I didn't want it going to your head.'
'What?' I said, getting angry. 'What makes you think...'
'No matter. We'll deal with that later.' He said, throwing the door to one of the stalls open, where a small makeshift table was. More like a board over the toilet. And all over that board was a white powdery substance.
'Aw hell no.' I said, realizing what it was.
'Oh stop being such a baby.' He said, chopping a line.
'You know I'm clean. Get that shit out of here.' I said, turning to get out.
He grabbed my arm. 'Just try it. You've had a rough day, and it's pure. I bought it myself as a gift for you. Just one line, just to appease me.'
At that moment in time, I hated that. The guilt trip. And Tim new that, and used it to his advantage every time. I couldn't resist making someone happy, because if someone wasn't happy because of something I did, it affected me. And I hated that.
I hesitated for a moment, and then knelt down. 'Fine. One line.'
He smiled. 'That's all I ask.'
Sometimes one is all it takes
.~.
I heard a knock at my front door, and went to answer it. “Who is it?” I called, through the door. It was Philly in 2006. You couldn’t be to careful.
No answer.
“Hello?” I called again.
THUD.
Something hit the door, hard. I unlocked the door, so that only the chain remained and peered out into the hallway of my apartment complex. No one was there, but I saw the coat-tails of someone go around the corner at the stairs. I looked down, and saw a backpack at the foot of my door. I unlocked the chain, took one last look to make sure I wasn’t going to get sniped or some shit like that [blow tends to make you paranoid when you detox] and then grabbed the bag and brought it inside. It was heavy. I set it on my table, and unzipped…
…and recoiled in horror. I dropped the bag quickly, and a head rolled out. But not just any head.
It was Sarah’s head. My breathing got heavier, and heavier. Who the fuck would do something like this? I didn't have enemies. I wasn't worth another human life, especially someone as beautiful as her. Tears burned the edges of my eyes as I noticed something.
There was a note attached to the ear. I reached down and grabbed it, and opened it up:
'Don’t lose.'
-XOXO
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