The tires screech to a halt behind a blue punch-bug as Alice parks near the house. There are cars lined up for probably three blocks down the road leading up to it. It's similar to hers, with large columns outside except there's a giant pool right in the front yard.
"Whoa." My mouth hangs open as we stand in front of the building.
"I know!" Alice squeals, "Now let's get inside, I can hear the music from here."
We make our way to the party only to be met by blaring music and strobe lights flashing inside the house. When we go inside there are tons of people, a lot of them I don't recognize. One of the first things that hits me is the strong smell of alcohol and sweat, along with teenagers grinding on each other.
Why people like these things and go to them is beyond me. I mean who thinks that getting drunk out of their minds and doing god knows what with God knows who is 'fun'?"
"What do you think so far?" Claire shouts into my ear with a huge smile on her face.
"Um, it's... interesting."
"Hell yeah it is!" She shouts back, pumping her fist in the air.
Okay then, I guess she misunderstood my enthusiasm, or lack there of. As she parades away Stella appears at my side with a beer already in hand.
"You want a drink?" She thrusts it at me, causing some to splash over the cup and hit me in the face.
This is getting worse by the second and we've been here all but ten minutes.
"Nope." I reply bluntly, forcing a smile.
"Okay, I'm going to go party!" She stumbles off into the crowd and once again I'm left alone.
So much for going to a party with my friends when they just left me anyways. I guess this gives me some time to look around and scope out any suspicious activity for the mission. It's pretty hard to see what's going on from the floor level, so I make my way up the winding staircase.
The people thin out drastically up here and the music is no longer blowing out my eardrums. There are a couple rooms with large, wooden doors leading into them, but all of them are closed. I'm not going to go in them either, especially when they have pairs of underwear hanging on the doorknob.
It's like a maze up here and somehow I find myself going down a long, dark hallway. To say it's creepy is an understatement and for some reason I can't shake the feeling that someone is following me.
What if they want to murder me? What if it isn't even a person, but a ghost! My thoughts are driving me nuts, causing me to become paranoid.
A hand on my shoulder stops me dead in my tracks.
"Where are you going, Bailey?"
"Riley, is that you?" I whisper into the darkness with wide eyes.
"Yup, and I came to visit the guest of honor! You look, like so hot tonight." He slurs, tripping over his own feet and stumbling into me.
This guy is we beyond drunk, and obviously not thinking straight, along with everyone else here.
"Woah buddy, I think we should cut back on this." I remove the cup of vodka from his hands and try to push him off me.
Riley seems to have other ideas, because instead of backing away he comes closer and corners me against the wall.
"Hey," he growls, "I decide when I've had enough."
Immediately memories of my father flash into my mind, causing my heart to pick up speed.
"Whatever Riley, you're drunk. Now get off me!" I shove him again, harder than last time.
He barely stumbles which makes sense considering he's probably 6'4 and 200 pounds. I mean the boy is a football player.
His hand comes up and slaps me across the temple which makes my head spin.
"I thought I told you to shut-up."
"Actually, you said 'I'll decide when-'" I stop talking when I realize that my smart mouth had to decide now is the best time to talk back.
"Fine, I know how to make a pretty thing like you stop talking."
His hand wraps around my neck and shoves me into the wall. It catches me off guard and the more I grab at his hand the tighter his grip gets. There's no other option than to sit still until he gets distracted.
"Good, just relax." He whispers against my lips, way to close for comfort.
I was always lucky as a child to have never been sexually abused, it was only physical.
When Riley slams his wet lips on mine I fight the urge to vomit. It tastes like alcohol mixed with cigarettes and is also my first kiss. Talk about disappointing. Tears slip down my face as he tries to slip the hand that isn't around my neck under my shirt to explore.
"S-stop. We should go somewhere else." I choke, gasping for air.
The only way he's going to let me go is if I play along. I'll be able to take him when his hands aren't wrapped in a vice grip around my neck.
"Oh you're right, we should take this to the bedroom." His grip loosens and his hand slides out of my shirt.
"Yeah, but real quick, I have to tell you a secret." I smug grin spreads across his face when I tug on his sleeve so I can whisper in his ear.
Ha, secret my ass.
"I just want to let you know that... you just messed with the wrong bitch!" My voice goes from a whisper to a full on shout as I bring my knee up to his precious little jewels.
Immediately he keels over in pain, so I take this opportunity to ram my elbow into the back of his neck. He goes down and is knocked unconscious. I step over his body and take off running downstairs in search of Alice because I want to go home.
I round the corner of the kitchen only to come face to face with Braiden making out with, you guessed it, Stacy. My stomach drops to the floor when I see the two of them together. His eyes meet mine and his lips curl into a small smile which soon turns to worry when he sees the red mark on my face from where Riley slapped me.
Tears form in my eyes and almost immediately start falling when the sight of the two of them replays in my mind. I spin around on my heel and swipe them away, ignoring his calls for me to stop.
As soon as I'm outside I take off running down the sidewalk. Something trips me and I crash onto the pavement, drawing blood from my hand and elbows. Before I can even register what's happening there are people surrounding me and I'm thrown into a black van.
"Braiden HELP!" I scream at the top of my lungs, clawing to get out. "Braiden!"
"Ryan, I'm coming just-" he's cut off by the slamming of a door and I'm left alone in darkness.
Tears form in my eyes, and feel hot as they run down my cheeks. The vehicle I'm in speeds up dramatically and takes a turn, slamming my head into the window. There's a loud crack, but I'm not sure if it's the window or my skull. My vision starts getting fuzzy and my eyelids droop down. I try as hard as I can to keep them open but they feel like a hundred pounds.
The throbbing pain in my head is becoming to much to handle, so I allow my eyes to flutter closed. As I'm slowly drifting away into the darkness, I can make out the sound of voices whispering above me.
"Hey, she's almost out." A raspy voice whispers above me.
"Good, we didn't even have to use the drugs." Someone sniggers under their breath.
Drugs?
"C'mon Ian, move faster we don't have that much time."
My mind starts whirring as Ian's face from Forever 21 flashes through my mind.
Why does he have me? What are they going to do to me? Oh my gosh, he said he would see me soon, maybe he's been stalking me!
This is all I can think about before everything goes black.
I'm not sure how long it's been, but as I regain consciousness and lift my head a dull pain shoots through it. I lift my hand, feeling for a bump only to have it not move an inch. As I become more aware I realize that I'm tied down to a chair in the middle of a deserted shack. My eyes strain to see something, anything, but it's too dark. This means I couldn't have been out too long since they took me when it was black outside.
So far I don't feel in any sort of pain, minus the headache and I'm wearing everything I had on before. The conversation the men were having before I blacked out flies back into my brain.
"C'mon Ian, move faster, we don't have much time."
"Ian." I whisper, the fury in my body slowly building.
I knew there was something off about him! I also know that I need to get out of here before he comes back. The ropes cut into my wrists as I desperately try to break it. The skin underneath it is raw and feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper on it repeatedly.
"Ugh!" A frustrated sigh escapes my throat.
Okay, so that's definitely not going to work. The only other option would be for me to break the chair on the wall, which is out of the question because my feet are tied to it also.
"I swear, when I get my hands on you Ian, I'm going to-"
"You're going to do what?" My eyes snap up to meet his, which have an evil glint to them.
"Ian." I growl, shooting him the iciest glare I can muster.
"That's right Ryan. Or should I call you Bailey? I hear that's your name now." He sneers, crouching down and running a finger down my cheek.
Goosebumps raise on my arms and I wrench my head away.
"Don't. Touch. Me." I say, my voice coming out stronger than expected.
"Why," he brings his head down so there's only about an inch between us, "does in make you uncomfortable?"
Instead of answering him I gather up all the saliva in my mouth and spit all over his face. His head snaps backwards and a grin makes it's way onto my face.
"You think you're so smart, don't you Ryan? I think you've forgotten that you're the one who's tied up here." He wipes my spit from his face.
Realization hits me, causing the smile to fall of my face. I mask my fear, keeping my face blank and free of any emotion. The last thing you want to let them see is your weaknesses, if they see those, you're as good as dead.
"Why am I here?" I ask flatly. My voice comes out shaky and I silently scold myself.
"Well, a friend of mine, you might know him as Damien, has asked for me to find and kill you. He would do it himself, but Damien is the type of guy who likes to stay under the radar." Ian walks over to the middle of the room and yanks on a chain.
A dull, yellow light turns on above us, illuminating the small space. I squint my eyes and take in the surroundings. The whole place is wooden, with only a few small windows. There's a front door, which is still open and a small table in the corner with a cupboard above it. The floor is stained red with what I assume is blood.
Great, this is where they take people to kill them.
I keep my eyes trained on Ian's back as he walks over to the cupboard, opening the squeaky door. He takes out a bag and slowly pulls out various tools.
Shivers head down my spine as I see him grinning with pleasure from my now obvious fear. All I can think about is when this happened with my father. The light glints off the blade of a large knife as he places it on the table. Next he pulls out various small ones along with a small torch and heating rod. He pulls out another rope and lies it down with the other tools.
"Now, Ryan," he turns to me with pure hatred and evil in his eyes, "where should we begin?"