Kidnapped

chapter 3

Five was creeping the hell out of me. I had rarely seen him after our last conversation about him "caring".

Yeah, he'd been here to give me food and water. He'd even been so kind that he let me shower. Not to forget, stand as a real bodyguard next to the door while I did so. What a gentleman.

After those moments, he locked me up in that room. Left alone, and had to wait till I got to shower or eat again. So there wasn't much to do.

After a few days, I had stopped eating or drinking. I saw that as my only way outside. Even if it meant being dragged outside in a body bag.

I had a lot of time to make think and over think. The main thing I thought about was; if I do get out, where do I go? My parents aren't here anymore so I can't go to them. Yes, I have friends, but not too many, and after disappearing like this, they will probably think I'm crazy. Family. If only they liked me. So I wouldn't know what the heck I'd do.

So maybe somewhere I was thankful to be locked up in here. At least for a bit. It made sure that I have time to think about everything.

Another question that I almost couldn't get out of my mind was; why do people want to take me?

To start with the man who almost killed me after the car accident. The one who five murdered. Then Five, who also took me. . . here.

I sigh, all the thoughts in my head are making me feel even more numb.

"What's wrong?" Five asks while sitting down.

"Well, you fucking kidnapped me. I can't escape. My parents are dead, and I'm absolutely terrified of you," I let it all out, but regret it immediately after. He can know those things, except for the last one. He can't know I'm terrified of him.

He does now.

I let myself fall down onto the bed and look at the ceiling.

"I won't kill you." he says quietly, almost as if I shouldn't hear it. He used a soft voice. Not his usual harsh, scary and serious voice.

"They wanted me to take you here, make sure you are safe and keep you here," he explains, and after he said all that, I could see on his face that he shouldn't have said all that. His explanation just gave me more questions but I know that this isn't the right time to ask him anything.

Who are they?

Why would they want him to protect me?

Five stands up, knowing he said too much. "I should leave." he sighs. "I can't tell you anything more because it would ruin everything. Forget about everything I said." His harsh, scary and serious voice is back, and I miss his soft one already.

I lay the blanket upon me as I watch him walk towards them door. 

"Goodnight," I mumble.

Five looks at me before closing the door, having heard me. Then I heat him whisper a "goodnight."

Five's pov
After half an hour, I return to the room where I locked the girl, y/n, up. She has fallen into a deep sleep already. Her blanket has fallen on the ground, and I did what felt right. I picked it up and laid it upon her body. I caught myself staring at the girl I took captive, and told myself never to do it again.

I need to see the handler again. She was the one that had asked me to take the girl captive. I had to protect y/n at all costs, the handler said.

She had also said that if I catch the slightest bit of feelings for the girl, I would get another job, another one where I will have to murder an innocent person.

So I could not.

I'm just working for the commission again so I can find out who causes the apocalypse. It is the only damn way so I have to do this job, I can't have anything standing in my way and most certainly not y/n. The handler asked me to give her a daily update about y/n, face to face. We have a meeting planned . . . right now. 

Time to spacial jump to the commission.

The woman is already sitting in her chair. The smug smile on her lips disgusts me.

"So five," she started "How is y/n?"

I step closer to her desk.

"Good. She's asleep in my room," I tell her, and she smiles, happy with how I'm handling the poor girl.

She grabs something out of a drawer, and puts it in front of me.

"I need you to put this in her neck."

I looks in her hand as she opens it.

"What is it?" I ask her, completely confused.

"This, my dear Five," she took a pause from a few seconds while looking at my face's features. "Is a tracker." I immediately feel my blood starting to boil.

"So you don't trust me," I remark, trying to keep myself calm. But I am not one to keep calm.

The handler looked at the tracker in her hand, and then back at me.

"We do trust you. We just don't trust the girl, five," she says.