By The Way, Danplan Oneshots

Snatched 4

I think this arc has about 2 - 3 more chapters...sorry if that's too long for you, just say and I'll change it :)

"Good morning."

Hosuh's eyes snapped from their trance, his body already hunching in an attempt to protect himself.

The kidnapper was walking casually towards him with a small item in his hands, his posture slouched due to the low ceiling. Hosuh stayed silent as he moved towards him, a headache growing at the back of his temple.

He wasn't really sure how long he had been in the attic anymore – with his wound that he was sure was infected and the ever growing darkness of the room, time had slipped from his grasp a long time ago, leaving him lost in his own thoughts.

His eye had swelled from where he had been hit, and despite his best efforts his leg wound was still troubling him, leaving him almost unable to walk. A dull, aching hunger gnawed at the back of his stomach, but the feeling seemed pitiful compared to the waves of misery clouding his senses.

The cold pricked unpleasantly on his bare arms, goosebumps erupting along his skin. However, the short burst of coolness was a pleasure to his fevered self, and he let out a small huff of relief. Each cold gust was only a minor painkiller, however, for the rest of himself. Hosuh has tried to peer through the cracks of the wood but found, unlike movies, there were none – he had been entirely cut off from the rest of the world, almost forgotten. He wondered what Stephen and Daniel (and the rest of DanPlan, hopefully) were doing now; surely they must've noticed something was wrong. Stephen has heard the gunshots over the phone, and Hosuh imagined him storming into the house, Daniel at his side, and kicking down the door.

This is what he had been imagining when the kidnapper entered the small cell – for a stupid, hopeful moment Hosuh thought it really was Dan and Stephen breaking down the door, finding him at last.

But no – instead his attacker was silhouetted in the doorway, light threading out from behind him. Hosuh relished the sudden brightness, his arm reaching out to try and catch some of the rays.

"I thought you might be hungry." The older man's rough voice tore him from his hypnosis and he shrank back, stubbornly shaking his head. Part of the feeling was true: whatever infection-fed illness that was coursing through him had left his nauseous – or it could also be the sheer amount of blood he lost in the short time. He didn't know, and didn't bother to try and figure it out.

Something was thrown at Hosuh's feet, making him jump. It was a small sandwich, the bread now mixing with the dust and dirt on the floor. It looked basic, like butter had just been slabbed on it as an afterthought, and the bread looked hard and stale, like leftovers.

It looked like the man was going to say something else; his hand raised threateningly and Hosuh closed his eyes in preparation. The blow never came, however, interrupted by a sharp ringtone.

Hosuh watched, mind racing, as the man pulled out his phone, answering the call. He zoned out of the conversation, his mind feeling clearer than it had done since he first got snatched.

If he could possibly get the phone...

Phone meant help. It meant contact to the outer world. If Hosuh could just make one call, he could be saved, back to making videos with his friends. Already he was craving the freedom, and was so lost in thought that he didn't see the hand strike him. His head slapped against the wall and he let out a yell, clutching his cheek.

"You were being rude. You answer me when I ask you a question!" His kidnapper snarled at him, his hand still raised. Hosuh sat up, nodding hastily.

"This is...your new bathroom." The man smiled, gesturing to the small, rusty bucket in the corner. Hosuh eyed it in disgust, but didn't dare argue.

Surprisingly, his kidnapper decided to leave Hosuh alone instead of beat him. The younger male let out a small sigh of relief as the door closed, the light cut off in an instant. Already the dark became suffocating, and he shivered.

Hosuh looked over at the sandwich, recalling what Dan had said to him that time they did the kidnapping video. Was it something about keeping up strength? Not letting yourself grow weak? It must've been; but Hosuh really didn't want to move, let alone eat. His body ached, his mind numbing with pain as his fever raged through him – he could feel his temperature rise, his eyelids growing more heavy.

He cast his eyes over to a darker patch on the floor, a metallic reek settling in what little air he had. It was his blood, he realised. And there was lots of it.

Something about the blood on the floor awoke some emotion in Hosuh, or maybe the shock had finally released its grip on his brain. But something caused Hosuh to let a tear drop from his eye that was followed by many others.

Screaming into his hands, he sobbed, leaning his head against the wall. Uttered comments that even he couldn't fully understand rolled off his tongue, muted by his wails. The cold air stung his cheek and he let out another sob, his small frame trembling in exhaustion. Another scream was ripped from the back of his throat, sounding inhuman to himself.

Hosuh slammed his hand against the wall weakly, digging his fingers into the wood until splinters broke into his skin. The pain was almost nothing compared to the rest of his wounds – he didn't feel it, instead cradling his broken close to his chest.

If his kidnapper heard his cries he didn't act on it, and Hosuh would be thankful for that later, when he collected himself as much as he could.

Suddenly, a bile rose up his throat, making him gag and cover his mouth. His eyes strained to look for the bucket that had been tossed across the room, but the darkness wouldn't let him do anything easily. His stomach rolled as a sharp pain burst from his arm and Hosuh reached, bringing up what little food he had left in his system with a strangled cry. He gagged, hot tears running down his face as his stomach continued to heave, bringing up stomach bile.

Head pounding, stomach aching, Hosuh dragged himself away from the vomit, shaking. His arms collapsed beneath him and he lay on the floor, breathing in the musty smell of the floorboards.

Hosuh was always good at imagining things, but this time his creative mind failed him; he desperately wanted to leave this place, have his own little adventure as misery churned around him. He wanted to pretend he was back with his friends, or his family – maybe he would wake up and it was all a dream. But the terror that was filling him was too real. The pain was too great to be fictional. He thought back to what Dan had said that day they did the video, as they joked with Stephen about something to do with how Stephen would actually be the kidnapper – his head was numb again, so he couldn't remember the details. But he remembered the half serious look in Daniel's eyes as he told them about what to do in real life.

Right now, Hosuh hadn't achieved any of them.

"Sorry Dan..." Hosuh murmured, eyes closing. Sweat dripped from his brow, and he knew he should be planning an escape right now, right? There was something about a phone...

...but right now he wanted to sleep again. When he was asleep he wasn't reminded of the pain he was in. Of what his fears whispered to him in the silence.

No, he couldn't ever remember happened in his sleep, and that was good enough for him.

"I guess I'm not really good at this..." his sentence broke off into a sob, shivering as the cold mercilessly froze his skin. He wanted to curl up, but he was too tired to move.

And once again Hosuh felt himself drift into a dreamless sleep, praying that when he woke up he would be back home.