Friday, September 1st (still)
Riley's POV
My head was throbbing and I was not sure if that was what caused my vision to feel excessively hazy or it was the lack of lighting. The room has a slight spin to it and my throat had the taste of bile in the back of it.
I had screamed and cried earlier when I woke up the first time in the room till nothing else came out. My voice was hoarse, my cheeks were hot with the tears that rolled down them, and my entire body felt like it had been emotionally drug through the ringer with Mike Tyson.
I was still in the same room. It seemed like a basement or a warehouse of some kind. There were no windows, the light was cast down on me with harsh fluorescents that were in the shape of two tube lights similar to those in a school hallway.
My hands were bound together with rope behind me, while I was seated on a chair in the middle of the room. Both legs tied down to a chair leg, there was no chance of me breaking away.
In front of me was a plain white wall covered in scuff marks. There was a spot that would have been between about five and six feet up that had some dried old blood staining on it as well. In my mind the image of someone getting their head or face smashed into the wall danced around but I tried to ignore it.
The floor was a slate gray colored concrete that had pits of uneven spots and littered with debris, rocks, dirt, puddles, and cigarette butts along it.
I thought back to every single thing I have heard and learned from scary movies, true crime, and any news articles I could remember. I knew there were certain things that sometimes did and didn't work on captors. Supposedly humanizing yourself sometimes helps... Other times it makes them more upset and they act out. You should try to get their DNA under your fingernails by scratching them and such... My hands are behind my back. You can have your phone ping your location... If I knew where my phone even was.
Fuck. What the fuck is happening.
Last thing I really remembered was walking to my car when some guy approached me. He was younger and I thought it was maybe someone from one of Harry's classes even. He was asking me where Harry lived. It seemed so harmless. I just remember everything slowly fading as he drug me into a vehicle. I remember in the car ride how bad my head hurt and he kept telling me things, but I cannot remember what.
When I woke up earlier I was alone in the room, I'm still alone and I have no idea how long I have been here at this point.
My head lulls back and forth between trying to keep it up and staring at the wall in front of me to hang low and feeling defeated while the headache throbs intensely. I am just so confused at this point.
To keep my sanity I try to count to myself and figure out some sort of timeline that all this occurs during.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I hear noises from somewhere behind me.
Three-hundred-and-sixty-four. Three-hundred-and-sixty-five. Three-hundred-and-sixty-six.
I try to turn my head as far as I can to see behind me, where I see a makeshift wooden table near a door that is closed. The table is bare and the door has multiple locks on it. Nothing that screams 'inviting'.
The noises beyond the door sound like footsteps coming closer and the voices are muffled enough I cannot make out what is being said.
Four-hundred-and-eight. Four-hundred-and-nine. Four-hundred-and-ten. Four-hundred-and-eleven. Four-hundred-and-twelve.
I jump at the sound of the door slamming open and hitting the wall behind it. Even when craning my neck I cannot see anyone in the doorway, they are just out of eye sight.
"Then meet her yourself." A voice says. Male. American. No accent. Not a particularly deep voice. I try to compile a list in my head of anything I can think to repeat if I get out of this situation to tell authorities.
The man does not get a reply but a moment of silence goes by.
Fuck what was my count at.
"Does he know she is here yet?" A second voice rings out. Female. American. No accent.
"Well no one saw if that's what you are asking." A third voice. Male. American. No accent. Slight lisp. Higher pitched than the first male.
"That's not what I asked." The female voice.
"Yes. He is aware. I've been checking her phone." -Male #1
"And?" -Female
"She apparently is supposed to go to some party tonight with all the guys and when she didn't show up they have been blowing her stuff up. Here look. The most recent one was two minutes ago, at 11:56 from Harry asking her to-" Male #1 is cut off mid sentence and I hear something smash.
"What was that for?!" Male #2 screeches.
"They have probably already tracked her location, that is all we needed." -Female
Two minutes ago. So it's 11:58. AM? PM? Well they talked about the party. I assume PM. I've been gone almost a whole day. People are noticing right? Autumn would notice. Melody too. I was supposed to go with her.
"Well you could've warned me before you went all She-Hulk on me damn." -Male #1
"Go check on our little Sleeping Beauty and see how she is doing. I am sure she has tons of questions that no one has answered for her yet. Be sure to let her know that Aiden will be pleased to finally meet her later." -Female
I hear the sound of heels clacking down the hallway to confirm my idea that the female left and the two men entered the room.
"Hello Riley, are you awake finally?" -Male #2 says while walking around to the front of me. He was a young, tall, lanky man with a buzz cut. He looked college age, and I vaguely remember now that he was the one that I talked to at my car.
He came around to my line of vision and stood an arms length away from me while leaning against the wall. In one hand he held a cigarette that was half burned through while his other hand was in his pocket.
"Mick, where did you put my lighter?" -Male #1 asks.
Okay, tall and lanky is Mick. I am having to repeat things in my head to myself because the throbbing is still present and is causing my head to feel fuzzy.
"I told you I put it back Shark. Maybe open your damn eyes." Mick looks at me and throws his thumb in the direction of the doorway, where I assume this 'Shark' person is standing. "I swear he would lose his damn head if it wasn't attached."
Mick lets out a chuckle while Shark let's out an annoyed groan.
"How are we feeling Riley?" Mick asks me while he leans down towards me, resting the hand that was in his pocket now on top of one of my thighs and making his eyes level with mine.
My eyes feel heavy and the contact of his skin on my leg is putrid but I cannot think of how to make him stop touching me.
"Where am I?" I croak out from my hoarse throat.
"Well well, she's awake!" Yells Mick while throwing his hands in the air and spinning in a circle. "Hello Riley. I am Mick, this here is Shark. Get it... Shark... 'cause he is always out for blood. I came up with it myself. Isn't it great?" Mick laughs at his own joke, meanwhile I am barely conscious enough to understand what is happening or who was in front of me still.
"Enough Mick. Just tell her what she needs to know and let's get out of here for now." Shark mumbles behind me. I still haven't seen him yet, but with what Mick just told me I was unsure if I would want to.
"What... where am I? What's happening? I'm so confused. I'm Riley... but I think you have the wrong person." I cannot complete my thoughts even as they come tumbling out of me.
"The thing is, you are who we want. And the timing could not be better. Here I thought it was going to take us weeks or even months to hunt down Harry and his little goons... but you... well you led us right to him in a matter of days." Mick starts to explain while walking away from me and towards the table in the back of the room.
My eyes wince as Mick starts dragging the table across the floor with a loud screeching noises towards me. The table ends up being relocated directly to the right of me, and I look up at Mick with confusion in my eyes.
Shark, I presume, finally comes into my line of vision and is exactly what I envisioned the moment Mick said his nickname. The Vin Diesel looking dude with more muscles than brain cells throws a manila envelope down on the table.
Mick and Shark both look at me as I stare at the envelope. Mick takes another drag on his cigarette before tossing it onto the floor past me. "I think you have waited long enough, let's see what's in envelope number one! Drum roll please!" Mick treated everything like a game show and it made my stomach flip, I knew none of this was good.
My thoughts were confirmed.
Mick starts to toss down photographs on the table that were black and white, but very identifiable. There were photos of Niall with his arm around me at Dante's. There were photo's of Harry and I at the beach. Another photo of me grimacing while taking a shot with Louis and Liam in the house. There was a photo taken through a window where a huddled group was standing around a giant penguin statue. There were photos from all the events and things I have had happen to me in the past few weeks, and in every photo was myself plus one or more of the guys.
"Awe honey. I can see you still don't get it." Mick taunts me.
"What do I have to do with this? Why are you looking for them? We are just college students." I try to reason with the men in front of me.
"Correction. You are a college student. They..." Shark pauses to wave his hand over the photos of the guys across the table, "are notorious murdering hit men who we have a bone to pick with. They are drug dealers who don't know how to stay the fuck in their lane, and that is a problem. Our boss.... Well... let's just say your little boys upset the wrong people."
I shake my head.
I can't process this.
There's no way.
There is NO way.
Mick picks up a photo of Harry and I where I was leaning against the brick wall on campus. It was the day he found me after the lecture with Tiffany and we argued. There were three photos in a row, two of us talking that Mick left on the table, and the third captured a kiss between myself and Harry, that was the one he picked up. "Such a fuckin' inconvenience to find out your boyfriend is a killer ain't it?"
"Harry isn't my boyfriend." I try to tell him. My throat was raw and it felt like I had dry swallowed tacks.
"Mhm. If you say so. Hopefully he cares enough to come rescue you then. If not... well... yikes for you sweetheart. Aiden doesn't need stragglers. Even if they are little mini murderers. That is you right, Riley Anderson... the Boyfriend Slayer?"
Shark holds up a phone showing a picture of me being led away in handcuffs while covered in blood. I knew the photo. It's haunted me for the past few months just like every moment that came before it and after it for that part of my life.
I wanted to explain, "It's not like that."
I don't get much further before Mick starts laughing at me.
"It's hot! Don't you try to reason with me. I find my women with a little... feisty attitude to be just what I need." Mick tells me while bringing another cigarette to his mouth. "In fact, Riley, you dying might be one of the worst things I gotta' do in my job. You're way to cute to be another random body in a grave that no one cares about."
Mick flicks his lighter and I can't help but feel my eyes start to collect tears as I direct my attention to the ground. I tell myself I cannot cry in front of this man, but goddamn I was nervous. I don't know if I am going to live or not.
"Baby baby baby, don't cry." Mick tells me while grabbing my face with both his hands and bending down towards me again, his teeth holding his cigarette between them. "I promise you, I'll make it fast." Mick winks at me and chuckles to himself. "If you weren't so tangled up in your boyfriend I would say you should just join us. Aiden is a great boss and would love a hot little bad bitch murderer added to the team."
I feel my chest start to heave and the silent tears are already coming before I can stop them.
"Let's go. We have stuff to do." -Shark
"Hey honey," Mick directs back at me while standing up and puffing out the smoke from his mouth. "Do you wanna die before or after your boyfriend?"
He laughs before turning away from me and leaving me alone again in the room, to stare at the white wall with scuff marks and dried blood.
This is where I am going to die.
This is it.