Stolen (Mello X Reader)

Chapter 1: Taken

Your apartment unlocks with a loud click. It's late, you glance at the clock, almost eleven. You've been working long hours as of late, it's getting exhausting.

Throwing your coat aside, you step into the kitchen. You haven't eaten anything since lunch. Your damn boss is such hardass you can't even take a break to down some cold Taco Bell you've been saving in the work fridge.

Oh well.

You click on the TV. Your kitchen is connected to the living room, so can semi-see the TV as you prepare a turkey sandwich.

The news lady on the TV is jabbering on about Kira. You frown to yourself. How long has Kira been inactive now?

About five years, right? Why is this topic still being discussed?

You sit down in front of the tv. An ordinary turkey sandwich looks a lot more delicious when you haven't eaten in ten hours. You devour the thing in seconds.

By the time you're finished eating, the news has moved on to something else.

"-Police say a potential serial killer is behind the recent string murders in the downtown area. People are advised to lock their doors and not go out at night-"

Great. Just what this city needs.

You snatch up the remote, turning the TV off swiftly. You need to head to bed, another tiresome day awaits you tomorrow.

You sludge to the bathroom to wash your face in the sink. The warm feels nice against your skin, but you can feel the heavy bags under your eyes.

You look in the mirror, for a moment wondering what the hell you're doing with your life.

You're smart, you've got potential, why are spending your days wasting away in a horrible office job?

You've only been out of college a year, is this all there is to life?

You decide to leave the existential questions for another day. Exiting the bathroom, you head to your bedroom.

As you enter, you hear the click of a gun as it is pressed against your temple.

You freeze, too afraid to move. Your mind races through a million scenarios.

"Hands up." A gruff voice commands.

Slowly, you raise your hands. You're shaking like a leaf, but at least you're doing what the man tells you to do.

You glance to side, getting a glimpse of the man.

His icy eyes stared back at you. They weren't kind. Shoulder length blond hair was pulled back haphazardly in a ponytail. But most distinct of all, was his scars.

Shivers ran up your spine.

Pink shredded skin covers half his face and runs down the arm he uses to hold the gun. Everything about this man screams killer to you.

Was this the serial killer they were discussing on the news?

There was movement in the corner of your eye as you realized the blond man wasn't the only other one in the room. A brown haired man donning a striped shirt grabbed at your hands, cuffing them behind your back.

"Well that was easier than expected." The brown haired man shrugs, pulling a carton of cigarettes out of his pockets. You flinch as he lights one, drawing it to his lips.

The blond one lowers his gun, still watching you with his chilling gaze. "We still need to get her to the base."

Base? Do serial killers have bases?

"That's the easy part." The brown haired man exhales smoke. You cough slightly and he gives you a side glance.

"Excuse me-" You manage to pipe up through your fear.

Both men regard you with disinterest.

"Are you... going to kill me?" You ask. It's a dumb question but nothing else comes to your mind.

The brown haired man snorts and the blond man frowns, "No."

You honestly don't know how to respond to this, you didn't think you would get that answer.

Before you get the chance to ask any other question, the two men had decided it was time to leave. The blond man grabs at your arm roughly, threatening to shoot you with his gun if you make any noise as you leave your apartment building.

The threat is enough to keep you quiet as you are lead out from the safety of your home and forced into the back of a shitty black car.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat as the brown haired man takes the wheel. The blond man seems busy, as soon as he takes his seat he pulls out a computer.

The car rumbles as it moves along the dark streets. There's no one out this late at night.

No one to help you.

"Comfy back there?" The brown haired man teases, glancing back at you from the rear view mirror.

You choose not to reply, instead opting to stare out the window.

"Aw, come on, not a word?"

"Cut it out, Matt." The blond warns in a low voice.

Alright, so now you know one of their names, surely that's useful, right?

You ride in silence for a while. You try to take note of what streets you're taking and how to get back, just in case they take you to the middle of nowhere. But as the trip goes on, you start to wonder why these two men would have any business with you.

With new confidence, you speak up, "I've been thinking about a few things."

Both men seem to perk up, directing their interest towards you.

"Go on." The brown haired one, Matt apparently, says.

"Why would you kidnap me? There isn't a reason for you to." You wonder aloud. "Ransom? My family has no money. Sex trade? Why would you go out of the way to break into my apartment when you could easily pick up someone on the streets? Personal reasons? Well, I simply don't know either of you."

You can only see a quarter of his face, but you think you see the blond man smirk slightly.

"Your deductions fit with your knowledge of the situation. Have you considered there is a piece you're missing?" He asks.

"And what would this piece be?" You demand.

The blond opens his mouth, when suddenly you're all jerked back slightly as the car accelerates. Matt grips the wheel tightly, glancing at the rear view mirror.

"Fuck, Mello, they're on our tail."