Stolen

Sam is 16. Her life changed forever because of one mans sick and twisted mind? She has been kidnapped, but what the man doesn't know is that she can throw knives. It's a family tradition to learn. She tries to fend off as many people as possible and to try and save everyone. She saved josh from the man too, or has josh saved her? Are they in love or in shock? Is what happened real? Or is it a dream to conceal and protect her from her past?


And it's my first movella so it might be a little rough around the edges, but I hope you enjoy the story. :)

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2. Chapter 2


My wrists hurt. My knees hurt. I don't want to open my eyes. I think they wrapped up my leg to stop the bleeding. My head hurts. I'm hungry. I don't have to use the bathroom so I assume I did when I passed out. I force my left eye open. I can't open the other. There is a mirror in front of me and one single light bulb hanging above me. I look at the mirror. They have rope connected to the wall and connected to my wrists. My arms extended and I'm on my knees. No wonder they hurt. My right eye is swollen shut. It's throbbing. It is the biggest bump I've ever had. It's purple. My mouth is dry. I want water. How can I get out. Stand up. It's very hard to stand. They purposely put that mirror there to show that I won't survive. I struggle to get my wrist out of the knots. I can't without reopening an injury. They didn't tie my ankles down. Blake and josh! I struggle to get my wrists out. They start to bleed. The little rope fibers are scratching at my new bleeding flesh. My wrists sting and itch because of the rope more than they hurt. My knees are tingling. I guess blood is finally circulating back. I'm wiggling around. They took the brass knuckles, my knives, the syringes, and my phone. How did they not find this place? She said they were on their way?! I keep struggling. I manage to get my right hand free and start working on the left. It take about five minutes. I rip the bottom half of my shirt off. I have one long piece of cloth. Now two. I tie them around my wrists with the help of my teeth. My white v-neck t-shirt is now a belly shirt. There is still a huge red stain on my side from the stitches. I look in the mirror.
"Thanks, I really wanted to lose five pounds. Now I can show off my bikini with pride."
My stomach has lost a lot of weight. My first two day I was knocked out. No food on the third. How many days this time? I couldn't have been out for too long or I would be dead. How could I have lost so much weight? They must have given me a shot or something because it doesn't hurt to stand, but I do limp severely. I am being watched. He said he would watch me closely, but who is watching me and how? They must be stupid. They left my knives in the far left corner of the room. My eye's throbbing has almost stopped. I gather up my little pile of knives. The boards a creaking. I tip toe around the room which does make my leg hurt badly. I conceal my knives. There handles are sticking out of the back of my pants, but if i need them I could just grab them. Them being there makes it even harder to walk. I get frustrated and take them all out. I press my ear against the wall that which my back was facing. I can hear the outside world. Just one piece of old ply wood separates us. I start carving in between two boards. This ply wood is strong. The sound of birds is faint. I make a small hole in between the two boards just big enough for me to see. Nothing! The found was faint because the outside is brick! I tighten my ponytail. My hair up is getting annoying. The lock on the door is a lock for an outside door. Why? I can try to pick it. I think. My hair is so tight that my head hurts. I press my hand to my head. Two bobby pins. Why did I put them in my hair? I hate bobby pins. I pull them out and bend them every which way. One is kind of zig zaggy and the other straight. I looked up how to pick a lock because I forget my keys all the time. I sit there fiddling with it for almost half an hour. It clicks. I stick the bobby pins in my pocket. I gather up the knives. One in each hand. Four in the back. I'm missing a few. I cut the rope from the wall and ball it up and shove it in my pocket. I look at the mirror. My eye. I will find a way out. I promise. I can't leave. They will know. So how? I sit down and think. I can't do much for anyone. I'm so badly injured. I can't help anyone right now. At that moment a man comes through the door. I try to fight him but he holds me down and gives me another shot. I can't hardly see him. He takes my knives. I have nothing.
"what is that?! What did you give me?!"
"it will make you stronger to fight."
"I will not fight!"
"what?"
"I won't fight for your sick and twisted game!"
"you don't have a choice!"
"I won't!"
" you will!"
He grabs my arm with his left hand. He gave me the black eye. If he were right handed it would be on my left eye. He starts to pull me out the door. This stuff works really fast. I feel strong enough to fight him just a little. I hang on to the door way. This is a childish move but I don't have anything. It's almost impossible to hang on. I only have one arm clamped to the door. I don't he is trying to hard. My arm is getting tired. He lets go of my arm and in one quick motion he grabs me by the pony tail and brings me to my feet. We're face to face. I'm holding on to my hair. It hurts.
"your the one that hit me."
He pulls harder on my hair until my feet are dangling. I'm trying to stretch my legs as long as I can. My tip toes just barely touch the floor. Stretching my leg hurts. I mean why wouldn't it hurt there is a bullet in it. He lowers me.
"how did you know that I hit you?"
"because you assaulted me with your left hand, and I got hit in my right eye. If you were right handed you would have hit me in the left eye."
He lets go completely and I drop to the floor.
" I don't think I'm gonna leave any time soon. Am I?"
A long pause. He gives me a strange look.
"no. I'm sorry."
I'm sorry?! What the hell?! He knows what's going on. He is evil. Why is he sorry?!
" your sorry!? You work for a mentally messed up man. You have a huge building filled with terrified kids. You make them fight each other for other peoples entertainment! You are not sorry!"
I'm sure I will get hurt or something for saying this but it needed to be said and I'm not taking it back! I brace my self for what is about to come. I close my eyes. He just sits down next to me. I'm puzzled. I scoot away but he drags me back. I try to struggle but I end up crying.
" it's ok. Don't cry. Everything will be ok."
What the hell!? Is he trying to make me feel better? I try to struggle even more now. I think my stitches are bleeding now. I hit my hurt leg accidentally. I let out a high pitched yelp. Its bleeding.
"are you ok?!"
"get off of me! Get off!"
He lets go. I quickly scoot away. I squeeze my leg to put pressure on it. It hurts very badly. I pull my hands away. The new blood covered the old. I'm freaking out. I start breathing heavily. I'm trying to make sense of everything. I can't think straight. Why does he care?! Why did they choose me? The breathing is making me light headed, but I can't stop. I need to calm down, but I can't.
" why... do... you... care?"
These are the words a can force my self to say.
" because your scared and hurt."
"you... hurt... me!"
"but I didn't want to."
"then what the hell was the ten minutes ago?!"
He doesn't answer. I try to crawl away but he picks me up. I don't refuse because I can't and I'm still thinking him over. My leg is getting blood all over his arm. I pull my arms up and grab his shoulders.
"where are we going?"
" to stop the bleeding, and to get something for the pain."
I don't know what to think of him. Is he an ally or more twisted than I thought? I hear the keys jingle at his belt. I don't think I should take them. Besides the rooms that I open and find them empty will make me cry. I'm sure the others have killed most of my group.
"how many?"
He stops and looks at me.
"how many?"
He still won't say anything.
" if you don't tell me I will find out."
"fine."
He looks sad and mad mixed together.
"26"
Hearing him say the number hits me in the back of the throat like a ton of bricks. It's hard to breath. I can feel the cool tear running down my burning cheeks. I'm trying to breath. He says something.
"I'm sorry. I know you tried to save them. I tried too. I'm so sorry."
I catch my breath to say something.
"you tried to... save them?"
I'm looking straight into his eyes. There glistening like an ocean under the hot sun. This makes me believe whatever he will say. I will make him my ally. Ally. The word feels strange whirling around in my head. Ally. But I think friend or helper or anything else will feel stranger.
"yes. I tried to save them, but they assigned me to other duties. If I refused they would know that I'm trying to get everyone out of here. Here, this hell hole. I know I could have tried harder but I couldn't think of anything without the outcome being me getting killed. If I died then you and all the others wouldn't even have a chance. I'm sorry."
This makes me stop breathing all together. I'm gasping, becoming light-headed again. I'm mad at him though. He didn't save those 26 helpless children. I also don't want to let go of him. He is my only chance. I dare to ask but I do anyway.
" are we allies now?"
"I guess so. Yeah."
I catch my breath again. I will not let him leave me and the others.
"so can I have the knives back?"
"not in the open. But eventually yes."
I stop asking questions for a while, thinking that I'm getting annoying. He is walking again. He is taking me down a bunch of hallways that twist and turn every which way. Maybe there is more kids than I thought. I try to push the thought away because I'm in danger of crying again. I try to learn the basics about him.
"what's your name?"
He pushes my back forward and I hang on to his neck. He shows me his right wrist. His name is tattooed onto his wrist too. It reads "Luke".
"Luke?"
"yes?"
"why did they tattoo your name onto you? They think your one of them."
He stops and looks at me. It looks like he has tears in his eyes, but his hair falls in his face so he can hide his eyes. I look away trying to pretend I didn't ask. He finally answers after about 15 minutes of walking again.
"because They kidnapped me too. I was only 12. I'm 22 now. I've been gone for 10 years. I'm legally dead now. "
He starts to cry. His tears land on me. I press my head against his chest hoping this will provide some kind of comfort. This comforts me to, maybe a little to much because I'm crying again too. I'm twisting my back so I can hug him. He pulls me in tightly. This lasts a few moments. I pull away and wipe my tears and his away.
"you promise me, promise me that no matter what you will protect those kids and get them out of here. I wont let them grow up not knowing their families. You promise me that you will protect them at all costs. Ok?"
I'm holding his stare.
"I promise. I'll get you out of here too."
"ok"
We're silent for a few minutes. He takes me into a room that has all kinds of simple medical stuff. He lays me on the table. The metal is cold against my skin. I lay my leg down flat against the table. The cool metal is soothing against the bandages. My leg is creating heat, so the cold feels nice. He cuts off the bandages from my leg. He has me flip over. This hurts because I'm laying on my stitches. He wipes away the blood with a cold wet patch of gauze. The gauze is rough against the tender part of the bullet hole. I make a stinging sound that indicates I'm a snake. I crane my head at an angle to see what he is doing, but it hurts my neck so I turn it back around.
"sorry, but this will hurt a little. Don't move or make a sound. Ok?"
"ok."
I'm nervous about what he is going to do. He straps me down and gives me a wet cloth to bite down on. I think he is sterilizing something right now.
"don't look. I'm going to take the bullet out of your leg."
What?! Why it's just fine in there! Why would he take it out?! He said were just going to get something for the pain. Not cause me more pain! I bite down on the cloth so hard that I may need braces after this. It's so tender. I pushes in the metal claws. I'm biting so hard that I create tears. He is moving them around trying to find the bullet. The pain is to much. I can't even think what it feels like. He keeps moving it around. It's so painful. My face is hurting. I'm clenching the rag with my hands. The pain is numbing my whole body. Clink. He found it. Finally. He pulls it out. I let go of the rag and let out a huge gasp. There is a little pool of water at my chin from me clenching the cloth. My face starts to relax and blood begins to flow back to my finger tips. He starts to clean and patch me up. The pain is still there though. He un-straps me. I flip over. He looks at my stitches. He cleans away the blood and stares at them again. He gives me a little bottle. I sit up and stare at it. It looks like a little wine bottle. Its filled with a water looking liquid. A word is written in sharpie. "vodka".
" I can give you a shot. But in my experience this seems to dull the pain of anything."
I just kind of stare at it. The pain is crippling so I twist off the cap.
"just throw it back."
I take one big swig. I pull away. I start coughing and choking. He pats me on the back.
" how old are you?"
I wipe my mouth and clear my throat.
" I'm 16."
" your 16 and never had a drink before?"
"no. I've never saw the purpose of getting drunk."
He just smiles and laughs. I chug the rest back.
"will I get drunk?"
" well most likely no, but it's vodka. So we'll find out. You didn't have much, just enough to dull the pain."
He rubs some anti-bacterial medicine all over my stitches. He lays a huge patch of gauze over them and tapes the edges down with lots of medical tape. He washes my wrists and repeats the process. The vodka is already starting to work. My leg is tingling and burning but less. He shows me the bullet. Its just a little smaller than my pinky. It's copper and pointed. I wash it off in a little dish of water. I hold it in my hand. Its a little heavy. I stick it in my pocket.
" can I have my knives back now?"
"sure, but why do you pick knives over guns?"
He hands them over.
" I'm more accurate with them. Get the middle of the target every single time."
I smile.
"really? Show me."
"no, my leg is practically dead. I can't use it. Without my leg I can't take my stance to throw."
I laugh.
"what?"
"nothing."
" no tell me."
"no. Another time."
I lay back down. Trying to relax hoping that will make my injuries feel better.
"we can't stay in here. You know that."
"I know."
He picks me up and puts me back in the position I was in. He takes the knives.
"are we just gonna walk around all day?"
"no."
"then where are we going?"
"not sure."
We walk for a little while.
"stop."
"why?"
I hear something. It sound like metal moving around on metal. It's the door on my right. He sets me down and unlocks it. The person scoots back to the corner. I hop inside. It even hurts to hop. He shuts the door behind us. Luke pulls out a little key chain light. I see josh. I'm relieved. He runs up to me and hugs me. I clench to his shirt. We don't know each other much but we'll take whatever shred of happiness and safety we can find.
"I was so worried about you."
Josh quickly pulls away. I didn't want him to pull away. He goes after Luke.
"josh stop it! He is on our side! Stop!"
"no he is not! He is trying to kill us!"
"josh he has been here since he was twelve!"
Josh has a hold around his throat.
"josh stop! He has helped me! Stop!"
"no. They will just make us fight!"
" josh stop!, or I will kill you my self!"
This makes him let go. He turns and stares at me.
"josh he is trying to help. He is just blending in while doing it."
I throw my self into his arms. He lifts me up. He must suspect that my leg hurts. I whisper in his ear.
"if he turns, you can do it. Ok?"
He kind of laughs.
"ok"
He lets me go and I stumble. He lifts me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and put my legs in his arms. We're face to face.
"do you know anything about Blake?"
I look away. Waiting for him to say something.
"if you don't answer that will make me think that..."
I slam my hand over my mouth and shut my eyes as tightly as I can hoping no tears come out. Sure enough some break through.
"hey don't cry. I'm sure he is ok."
"do you know for sure?"
There is a long pause.
"do you know for sure?"
He licks his lips and looks away. We both know that he isn't ok. I can't rely on hope. I have to go with statistics. There is a very slim chance that he is alive, and even if he is in that slim chance and alive, I'm sure he isn't ok.
"no. I don't know for sure."
I think a tear runs down his face, but I'm not sure. A key chain light gives only so much light. I bury my face in his shoulder. Jaw and eyes clenched shut. Trying to escape this world. This must be a dream. I hope and wish its a dream, but facts say that this is all real. He lowers his head.
"we need to leave."
Luke's voice pulls me back into the real world. The real terrible, nightmare, hell hole of a world. I think the vodka is finally releasing its full effect on my body. I don't feel any pain, but that doesn't mean that its not there. I feel tired. It left a weird after taste in my mouth. It tastes like a thousand year old creek water. Even though water never goes bad, this is what I expect water to taste like if it does.

Luke leads us into the hallway. He is taking us through the maze again. I might as well be asleep. I think I'm pretty close. I have a strange feeling that the little wine bottle that I chugged wasn't vodka. I push the thought away.
Josh and Luke try to talk but josh clearly doesn't trust him. Josh trusts me and I trust him and Luke, but I'm still skeptical of Luke.
"so what's your plan?, to get us out of here."
"not sure yet."
Josh stops walking.
"well we need a plan."
"I know but I just haven't thought of a good one yet."
"who cares if it's good or not. A plan is a plan."
"yes but if the rest find out..."
Josh cuts him off.
"who cares if they find out? As long as we get everyone out."
I try to speak clearly.
"josh it's ok. I'm thinking of one but there is still a few flaws."
"see. We got a plan."
Josh just raises his eyebrows. He continues walking thought. Now I need to think of a plan.
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