Coping Mechanisms|Peterick

Worse Than Nicotine

He yanked me into a back alley that I hadn't even noticed while I stared at my shoes earlier. The rag was still pressed up against me and I was breathing in some kind of chemical. I thrashed around aimlessly. There seemed to be no way to get out of his grip.

"Listen kid, don't make me do this the hard way."

I ignored his cliche warning, and slammed my foot into his as hard as I could. He faltered for just a second, but I couldn't escape his grasp. He had regained control again.

Beginning to feel dazed, I swayed back and forth."There you go, it'll be ok", a whisper sounded all around me.

Maybe heaven exists after all.
————————————————————Pete's Point Of View

The boys body fell limp in my arms. I staggered back, and got a grip on the rag doll body. My lungs burned as I carried him deeper into the alley. Asthma and light exposure to chloroform is never a good thing.

We arrived where my old rusty truck was parked. Cars from the road on this side of the alley blew a slight breeze towards us. His blonde hair fluttered. I propped him against a dumpster, careful not to put him in sight of the cars. After unlocking the door, I lifted him into the floor of the backseat, and climbed into the drivers seat.

A smile spread across my face. He was perfect, the best one yet in fact. His feminine appearance was pleasing. He would be nice to look at.

Even better to torture.
~
Two hours of mundane driving later we arrived. He was still passed out in the back, and softly snoring. I parked the truck behind the ivy ridden house, the gold leaves crunched and crackled under the weight of the truck. Outside the window, gnarled tree branches reached out to the sky as if they were begging God for mercy.

The boy would soon do the same.

Stepping out of the trucked I opened the back door, and ran my hand through his soft blonde hair. "You'll do nicely", the words slipped out of my mouth. I dragged him out of the truck, and bent down to lay him on the ground, the leaves serving as a pillow. I stood straight up again and slowly shut the creaky car door.

Picking him up bridal style I started to carry him to the house.

I had no upper body strength at all, and strained to get him just to my green, ripped up couch. Sighing, I sat down on the tattered furniture with the boy still in my arms.

He groaned, and nuzzled into my chest.

Holy fuck. That was precious, but he may wake up soon. I rose to my feet again, and carried him down to the basement, my muscles screamed the whole way.

I gently set him on a shiny metal table and put handcuffs on him. A pair for both hands and legs. I connected both hands to the table legs, and the same for his feet. I decide to leave my 'tools' next to him. He can't get to them, and he'll be in pain just waiting to know what they're for.

I walked back up the stairs, to my own bedroom, flipped onto the twin sized bed with aqua covers, and stared at the ceiling. I let out a long exasperated sigh. The initial abduction was always exhausting. I rolled onto my side, and gazed longingly at the laptop set on my nightstand. It was constantly set to show me the security footage of the basement. The boy slept like an angel. His pink sweater rode up just enough to show some pale skin, and his lips were barely parted.