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Your vision remains blurry, eyes struggling to open fully while your head felt much too heavy for your body. It was nauseating and sick. The vile burning the back of your throat so much that swallows harshly. You pull at your wrists, feeling your tense muscles strain while your eyes finally begin opening.
"You're awake, "
It takes a lot of strength to, even so, change positions. The sunlight in the room blinds you and you can feel yourself once again feel light-headed. The voice carries through the room, almost featherlike while harshly landing on your eardrums, causing you to flinch.
"Boss is waiting for you downstairs."
And you're eyes finally can take in the vision, adjusting the light perfectly. The trail along with the chamber-like large bedroom, the designs almost causing your mouth to fall open.
If it weren't for the circumstances, you would've thought that this room was beautiful.
The vintage roman paintings decorated the ceiling as well as the walls oh so beautifully, each corner having an elegant lining of gold. Some white streaks, lining closely that cause more emphasis on the art. Ceilings were high, the long exotic yet dark curtains frame the room beautifully.
But what caught your attention most was the man sitting by your dresser. The dark hair enhancing his features. One hand of his hold a white rag, while the other holds a gun.
Your eyes widen at the weapon and you instantly shuffle into your headboard.
"Where am I?" You calmy ask, " And who are you? And why are you holding a weapon?"
"I'm not the one who needs to give you an explanation, " He answers, getting up to his feet, rolling up the long-sleeved black shirt showing off his arms filled with tattoos."As I said, my boss is waiting for you downstairs. Get up and move it."
You stand to your feet if you were to even think about misbehaving. That gun wouldn't even hesitate to place a silver bullet through your temple. The man walks ahead of you, placing the firearm into the belt of his black jeans and walking out the double doors. As soon as you turn into the hallway - your mouth falls open.
The hallway must've had at least twenty wooden doors, all of them magnificent in their own way.
But why were you romanticizing the idea of being here? As if you weren't brought here against your will.
The worst part of this all was that you could care less about whether or not you were in danger. All you kept thinking about was the beautiful little girl that you haven't seen in God knows how long. You missed her, so much that your heart shatters at the mere thought of her not being okay.
It makes you wonder if you were going to ever see her again.
The man snaps you out of your daze as he turns another corner, the flight of stairs coming insight. Steadily the both of you walk down, but you can't help as your eyes feasted up the vast living space. The kitchen and the living room were connected. But the black, leather themed loving room is what caught your eye the most.
Each corner had a well-built man, all in their security like uniforms - holding heavy and yet dangerous guns. Counting the man in front of you. In total there had to be seven.
With only one sitting comfortably on the couch. But you can't see him. Only the top of the back, his wavy hair move along with his head. Showing signs that he was talking but the lower you got on the staircase - the more his voice sounded like whispers more than anything.
Your heart was beating in your ears by now, mind filled with curiosity as to why this man wanted to do such a horrendous thing such as this.
You wished that this was just a nightmare. One that you soon will wake up from.
But as your skin flares with heat. Standing across at the back of the black-haired man's wavy hair. Your heart seems to sink to the pits of your stomach, nausea beginning to ripple within you so much that you begin to think you might drop dead. Right here. Right now.
"She's awake, " The man declares openly.
The leather chair turns and your heart comes to a sickening halt.
Your daughter sits on the man's lap, holding toys in her hand and playing with them, you watch as her mouth mouths a few words. Moving the dolls to each other whilst giggling lightly and shaking her head.
"Saerin, " You whisper, " Sae?"
Her head shoots up to meet yours and you instantly sink to your knees, tears glistening in them while relief rushes through you like adrenaline. Her smile reaches her eyes, the box-like feature that you've come to much to relove etched onto her face before prying the hands of the man and instantly flees across the room and lands into your arms.
Your hands pry at her desperately, tears falling down your face as you kiss the side of her head repeatedly.
"Oh Saerin I'm so glad you're okay, " You cry, " You had mommy so worried. And what did I tell you about talking to strangers."
"I'm not a stranger, "
The voice rings through your eyes but you don't have the guts to look. You knew that voice but you refuse to put a name on it. Your soul leaves your body for a moment, the sobs getting trapped in the back your throat, almost burning your throat like molten lava. But you refuse to a breakdown in front of your daughter.
He looks from his lap slowly, the long black wavy hair covering his eyes while the black suit complimented his honey skin. Your eyes also move slowly, trailing along the furniture, trying to find a distraction to what's hopefully not what you think it is.
But it was already too late.
Your eyes hook with his half hidden puppy eyes and your tears become heavier as disbelief hits you like a train.
