King of Crime ✔️

Aliens

"Thomas, Samantha." She nodded. "Come in." 

I tried to withhold a gape, stumbling after her. What does this mean? 

The wooden interior of the cottage and a dark scent of pines welcomed me as I was ushered into a cozy bedroom and left alone there. The floor was covered with a deep red carpet, soothing the sore soles of my feet, the interior very traditional. 

There was an abundance of accessories and classic details. The dark, finished wood continued like it did from the outside, making me feel like I time-traveled, especially coming from the capital city of the US.

The guy called Thomas and the woman quietly discussed outside the door about money, as I tried to open the stiff window, without success. It let through plenty of natural light, and I might've even considered to enjoy the scenery for a moment, before reality hit me again in the shape of the blonde woman entering the room.

"Would you like something to eat?" she queried with a calm and low voice, tapping with her polished nails on her phone. I gaped at her, unsure of what to think of the situation.

"Uh, yeah, well, I'd like to know what is happening."

"He will explain everything once he's arrived, which will only take thirty minutes or so." She still didn't look up from her screen. "In the meantime, something to drink, then, perhaps?"

"He? Johann?"

She finally looked up, "Yes." 

You're kidding me. I felt all the stress crumble from my shoulders. You're fucking kidding me. Why would he do such a thing? The relief was instantly replaced with anger.

"Why?" I snapped, a little too heated. "Why is he doing this? Couldn't he just have asked me to go somewhere?"

"Please, save your questions for when he's here, alright?" she sighed, rubbing with her fingers over the side of her head while turning around. "I'll take it that you don't want anything. Fine by me. Starve, for all I care." 

She closed the door behind her with a slam. I didn't realize I was testing her patience.

After dropping down on the floor, I started massaging my temples. My God. How could he not at least have mustered the decency to tell me in advance, that I was going to me drugged and abducted? That would've saved me a few years of my lifespan, without doubt. 

Tears were pricking behind my eyes, dying to roll down my face, as I pulled up my legs and hugged my knees. My face was burning up. Why did he think it was necessary to take me away from the FBI? Was I not safe there?

I squeezed my hands to fists, trying my hardest to calm myself. No use in crying. No use. It was okay now. Everything's fine. No one's going to kill you.

When I finally apprehended my new situation, all anxiety dealt with, I tried to stand on my feet and come up with an escape plan before Johann would be here. I blew out my cheeks. Finding the way back to where they dropped us off with the car wouldn't be hard, but from there on... 

I tried the doorknob. Locked. That man, Thomas, hadn't left yet, right? Maybe I could convince him to take me back. No, that would never work, I told myself silently. An agitated feeling started brewing inside of me. 

Unbelievable. How did I end up in this situation? What wrong choices did I make in life for this to happen?

I started opening drawers to look for anything that might aid my escape, without luck. As I was almost preparing to break the window glass with a chair, someone rattled with keys at the classic wooden door. I froze and slowly put down the chair as the doorknob wiggled.