Curiosity Killed The Cat

Emily Shakespeare never gets in any trouble. She is the best student at St Catherine's College. All of a sudden her school has been closed off, and no one knows why. When she tries to find out, she gets in more trouble than she had ever imagined...

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7. In the Dark


I opened my eyes to complete darkness. For a moment I thought everything had just been a dream, that I was lying in my own bed sometime late at night, but then my senses kicked in, and I began to notice my surroundings.

My legs were stiff and aching from the uncomfortable position they were in, but I couldn't move them. I was hot and clammy, and the air was so stuffy I found it difficult to breathe. I became aware of a strip of duct tape covering my mouth, and my wrists and ankles were bound tightly with rope. The muffled sound of traffic and busy streets was barely audible, and every few minutes I felt the dark, confined space I was in sway as though rounding a corner. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine with the realization that I was in the boot of a car. I had been kidnapped.

My memory after being hit was blank. I must have been unconscious, but who knows for how long. I felt a chill down my spine, as though I was being watched. I turned my head slightly, straining to see behind me, and saw two bright green eyes staring at me.

That cat. The one who got me in this mess.

His eyes remained calm and focused, and he was studying my face in the dark. I felt a ball of anger build up and unfurl inside me. What was going on?! This cat had led me right to the stranger who knocked me out, but why? How?

The vehicle I was in slowed to a stop. I began to panic. I hadn't thought about what I would do once the journey to wherever I was had ended. The click of a car door opening, followed by a loud slam, fired up my adrenaline and my breathing became quick and shallow. The screech and rattle of metal indicated a garage door was being slid shut. Then the dreaded footsteps began. They grew louder, closer, until they came to a stop.

Click.

A crack of light behind me turned into a stream, and my vision was flooded by the blinding beam from a flashlight. The cat hissed and leaped out of the boot. A shout echoed around me; French words I couldn't understand. The light disappeared as the footsteps grew more and more distant.

I sat up as best I could. My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit garage around me. The only source of light came from a door that was left slightly ajar behind the car. A few empty shelves took up minimal space on the grey, damp walls. It was cold, and had goosebumps under my thin blue jumper. I heard muffled talking from somewhere outside the open door. I lay back down, trying to decide whether or not to remain with my eyes open or to pretend I was unconscious. I chose the latter just as the flashlight returned. I felt myself being lifted up like a rag-doll, and I tried to refrain from tensing up as the flashlight man threw me over his shoulder.

Moments later I was being sat down in a chair, a  hard, uncomfortable plastic chair. I opened one eye and instantly regretted it. In front of me, across a cluttered wooden desk, was a masked figure. A pair of deep blue eyes sent an icy stare my way and I shut my own eye immediately. But it was too late. A cold, mean laugh erupted from the masked face.

"You play dead quite well, my friend," an feminine voice sneered at me. The voice spoke with a strong French accent. The laugh sounded again. I watched through squinted eyes as an elegant, gloved hand reach across the desk and tilted my head upwards. I reluctantly opened my eyes. The figure in from of me was undoubtedly a woman, dressed entirely in black; from her mask that covered the top of her face, to her tight leather jacket and belt, equipped with all kinds of weaponry. She had bright blonde hair cut in a sharp bob, the ends curving in to frame her face. Her mouth was turned up in a smirk, perfect white teeth on display. She tapped her fingers on the desk.

"Ah, you are alive!" she proclaimed in mock-surprise, clapping her hands together. "Which I am happy about only because you have information for us, I believe." I looked at her, confused. She let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"Our tracking devices have repeatedly lead my spies to your location, yet you act as though you have no idea what is happening here?" Her voice was smooth yet firm and direct. "Perhaps Victor hit you harder than we thought," she laughed.

She snapped her fingers and uttered an order in French. From the doorway came a man, also masked and dressed entirely in black. He leaned over to me and with one swift movement, ripped the tape from my mouth. I felt a burning sensation and my eyes watered, but I blinked back the tears. I gulped in the air through my mouth, glad to be able to use it again. Something that the woman had said stuck in my head.

"Y-your tracking devices?" I croaked, my throat hoarse and dry. She smiled.

"Ah yes, one of my assistant's better ideas," she began, "I'm sure you are aware that Geraldine Samuels is dead?" I nodded ever so slightly. "Well that was my good friend Victor's doing, as I'm sure you have figured out," This was news to me. "Although you seem quite young, I'm assuming you are under orders of the police or the FBI, am I correct?" I was bewildered by this question. The FBI?

"I don't know what you are talking about," I managed to reply. The woman's face turned sour.

"Alright, play dumb, but Theo led us right to you," she said while lifting the treacherous feline onto her lap. Theo, that's what he's called. He lead them right to me. But I still didn't know why or how.

"But how?" I asked worriedly, looking into Theo's emerald eyes.

"That part is quite simple really," the woman explained, circling her fingers between Theo's ears while he purred and settled down on her lap. "Theo was Samuels beloved pet, so we saw him as the perfect way to track her movements while she investigated our case. We installed a tracking device and micro-camera in him. And it worked wonders. We tracked her to Ireland when she disappeared and when she got to close to the truth, I'm afraid we had to, how should I say, bump her off," A wicked smile gleamed in her eyes.

"But," she said, "Theo's service wasn't finished quite yet. You see, after he brought you into the school, we figured you were working with Samuels. We need to know what you know about us, and who else is working with you."

I felt lost and confused and had a sudden overwhelming desire to go home. The deathly silence was interrupted by the vibration of a mobile phone on the desk. I glanced at the source of the noise, and to my surprise I saw my own phone, my mother's caller ID lighting up the screen. I went to grab it only to be reminded my hands were tied together. The woman picked it up and pressed down on the power button. She looked back at me, phone in hand. Her twisted smile and wide eyes were those of a mad-man.

"Tell me everything you know if you ever want to speak to her again," she hissed. With that she slammed the phone straight into the desk corner, the glass and plastic shattering into a thousand pieces.

 

 

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