Pete Reynolds turned on to the highway in his rental car. He'd been driving for over an hour since he left the airport. He was beginning to wonder if this was another wild goose chase.
No, he thought. The answer had to be near.
As the youngest reporter at the paper, his editors hadn't taken him very seriously when he first asked for permission to look into this story. Hell, some of them didn't even think there was a story.
But Pete knew there was something going on in this little town. It had taken weeks of research but he had uncovered 11 different missing person cases, from all over the country. All young men about his age. All had disappeared suddenly, only to turn up exactly two weeks later. In each case, the missing man had absolutely no memory of where he had been or what he had experienced. And other than a few bruises and one broken bone, no serious harm seemed to have occurred to any of them.
The only connection seemed to be that each had traveled through this tiny Arizona town in the days or even hours before their disappearance. Detectives from each precinct had come down here and poked around, but little progress seemed to have been made in any of the cases. Pete was determined to find out more.
Lost in thought, Pete had mindlessly driven right through a speed trap. The siren and flashing lights in the rear view mirror snapped him back to reality.
"Shit!" Pete said to himself as he pulled over to the curb. He looked around at the desolate area of desert he had been traveling through. Other than his rental and the police car, there were no signs of anyone around.
He watched in the rear view mirror as the older, slightly heavy set police officer swaggered up to the side of his car. Pete rolled down the window.
"License and registration." The cop had a slightly arrogant smirk on his face.
"Uh, sure," Pete replied, as he tried to find his rental car agreement in the glove compartment. "Here's my license. I'm not sure where I put the receipt-this is a rental."
The police officer studied Pete's license. "California?"
"That's right, sir. I'm traveling on business."
"Right now all I'm interested in is how you came into possession of this car. We've had a report of some thefts of rental cars at the airport. I'm going to need to see that paperwork."
Pete nervously started reaching under the seat. "I can't imagine what I've done with it."
"Sir, hands where I can see them."
"Just a second.." Pete started to say as he noticed the police officers hand resting on his holstered gun.
"Step out of the car."
Pete opened the door. "I'm here for work. I can verify..."
The police officer grabbed Pete by the shoulders and forced him out of the car. He shoved him against the car and used his foot to separate Pete's legs. "Hands on the car, sir."
Suddenly Pete found himself pressed up against the car with his hands on the roof. He felt the police officer patting him down.
"If I could just call..."
Suddenly the officer was holding a bag of marijuana. "On business, huh? We don't need any more of your kind of business in this town."\
Pete was starting to panic. "Wait. That's not mine! What's going on here?"
"I'm placing you under arrest. You have the right to remain silent..." Pete couldn't make out the words the officer was saying. He was starting to realize he may have found a bigger story than the one he started out following. He was numb as his left arm was pulled behind his back. He felt the shiny cold metal of a handcuff snap onto his wrist. His right arm was pulled behind him and he felt the second cuff snap on his right wrist. He was led by the elbow back to the police car. He didn't put up much of a struggle as he was placed in the back seat.
The officer returned to the driver's seat and pulled out onto the highway. Pete watched out the window as the drove into the night. He hoped he would be able to convince someone at the police station that the drugs were not his.
covering the story (M+/M+) FINAL CHAPTER POSTED
covering the story (M+/M+) FINAL CHAPTER POSTED
Last edited by Simon 3 years ago, edited 3 times in total.
Welcome aboard.
A good start but please gender tag the story. Thanks.
A good start but please gender tag the story. Thanks.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
Line spacing between paragraphs would also be helpful, too.
Drawscore
Drawscore
-
RopingRingers
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 488
- Joined: 4 years ago
Paragraphs would make this easier to read 
Thanks for tagging this, [mention]Simon[/mention]
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
Thanks for the suggestions. I’ve fixed the paragraphs.
Part 2
Pete stared out the window as the car drove through the night. The moon was up but there were no streetlight or headlights anywhere. This road looked even more deserted than where he'd been pulled over.
He couldn't believe what was happening. He'd heard about these corrupt small town police officers, of course. But he never dreamed he would encounter one! He hoped someone at the police station would at least help him get in touch with a lawyer.
The more the car drove, the more uneasy Pete became. It seemed to be taking a long time to get to the police station. Now that he thought of it, they hadn't passed any buildings or other cars for miles.
The car turned onto a gravel road that lead into a dense forest. After a few more minutes, the police officer stopped the car. He got out and walked around to the back, opened the trunk, and seemed to be rooting around for something. Pete was getting more panicked by the moment.
The officer slammed the trunk shut and then came around and opened the passenger door. "Get out," he barked.
Pete hesitated. He now realized he had stumbled onto something bigger than cops who plant evidence. He was beginning to suspect he had unfortunately fallen right into the middle of the very story he was investigating.
Pete started to ask a question, but before he had the chance, the police officer grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out of the car, dropping him on the gravel.
Before Pete could react, the officer pulled him up by the shirt into a standing position.
"When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it!"
Pete was stunned. He was now looking up into the very red face of the corrupt cop who had arrested him. The cop was several inches taller and, as Pete was now noticing, quite muscular.
"Name's Blevins," the cop said, slightly calmer. "But you will address me as sir."
"What the hell..." Pete managed to begin to speak, not that he had somewhat caught his breath.
Blevins slapped Pete across the face. "YOU WILL ONLY SPEAK IF ASKED A DIRECT QUESTION!"
With his hands still cuffed behind his back, Pete wasn't able to touch his face to wipe away what felt like a drop of blood running down his chin.
"Turn around!"
Still quite stunned, Pete turned his body around so that his chest was against the car. He wasn't sure what was happening but he needed a minute to collect his thoughts so he complied.
Pete turned his head slightly to try to glance at the cop behind him. Blevins was rummaging through a black duffel bag-apparently the item he had been searching for in the trunk. He pulled out a coil of rope.
Pete felt the rope being looped around each wrist. His wrists were pulled next to each other and tied tightly. Then another rope was tied around his elbows, pulling them as close together as they would go. He felt Blevins tie a rope around his upper arm, wrap it around his chest, and tie it around his other arm, firmly holding his arms against his back.
Blevins opened the door and forced Pete back into the back of the police car. Blevins returned to his position in the drivers seat and set off again into the night.
Pete's head was swimming. Now that he was back in the car he tried to look for a landmark or some type of sign of where he was. He saw nothing but trees.
Pete stared out the window as the car drove through the night. The moon was up but there were no streetlight or headlights anywhere. This road looked even more deserted than where he'd been pulled over.
He couldn't believe what was happening. He'd heard about these corrupt small town police officers, of course. But he never dreamed he would encounter one! He hoped someone at the police station would at least help him get in touch with a lawyer.
The more the car drove, the more uneasy Pete became. It seemed to be taking a long time to get to the police station. Now that he thought of it, they hadn't passed any buildings or other cars for miles.
The car turned onto a gravel road that lead into a dense forest. After a few more minutes, the police officer stopped the car. He got out and walked around to the back, opened the trunk, and seemed to be rooting around for something. Pete was getting more panicked by the moment.
The officer slammed the trunk shut and then came around and opened the passenger door. "Get out," he barked.
Pete hesitated. He now realized he had stumbled onto something bigger than cops who plant evidence. He was beginning to suspect he had unfortunately fallen right into the middle of the very story he was investigating.
Pete started to ask a question, but before he had the chance, the police officer grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out of the car, dropping him on the gravel.
Before Pete could react, the officer pulled him up by the shirt into a standing position.
"When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it!"
Pete was stunned. He was now looking up into the very red face of the corrupt cop who had arrested him. The cop was several inches taller and, as Pete was now noticing, quite muscular.
"Name's Blevins," the cop said, slightly calmer. "But you will address me as sir."
"What the hell..." Pete managed to begin to speak, not that he had somewhat caught his breath.
Blevins slapped Pete across the face. "YOU WILL ONLY SPEAK IF ASKED A DIRECT QUESTION!"
With his hands still cuffed behind his back, Pete wasn't able to touch his face to wipe away what felt like a drop of blood running down his chin.
"Turn around!"
Still quite stunned, Pete turned his body around so that his chest was against the car. He wasn't sure what was happening but he needed a minute to collect his thoughts so he complied.
Pete turned his head slightly to try to glance at the cop behind him. Blevins was rummaging through a black duffel bag-apparently the item he had been searching for in the trunk. He pulled out a coil of rope.
Pete felt the rope being looped around each wrist. His wrists were pulled next to each other and tied tightly. Then another rope was tied around his elbows, pulling them as close together as they would go. He felt Blevins tie a rope around his upper arm, wrap it around his chest, and tie it around his other arm, firmly holding his arms against his back.
Blevins opened the door and forced Pete back into the back of the police car. Blevins returned to his position in the drivers seat and set off again into the night.
Pete's head was swimming. Now that he was back in the car he tried to look for a landmark or some type of sign of where he was. He saw nothing but trees.
Part 3
After driving even deeper into the forest for what seemed an eternity, the car passed through a small gate in a barbed wire fence and then stopped in front of a large building.
Pete saw two more police officers come out of the building and begin walking towards the car. He noticed that their uniforms were from different police departments. He wasn’t certain but he thought one was from another state.
One of the officers approached the drivers side door while the other approached Pete’s door. The officer standing outside of Pete’s door was a muscular, blond policeman who had his hand resting on his holstered weapon. Pete couldn't see his other hand.
The second officer, a dark hared Hispanic man, spoke to Blevins. "Another one so quickly? I'm impressed."
"I think you'll appreciate this one, Alvarez. Normal fee?"
The officer Blevins referred to as Alvarez handed Blevins an envelope, and then turned to the second officer. "O'Brien, get him ready."
The blond officer-O'Brien-opened the door to the police car. He began buckling something around Pete's neck.
Pete realized almost too late that the officer had been holding something in the hand that Pete hadn't seen. Before Pete had time to pull back, the officer had placed a leather collar on Pete and was pulling on the leash that was attached. Pete moved quickly to keep from being knocked over. With his arms tied behind him and to his sides, he saw no choice but to cooperate. He thought of the story he had come here to investigate- the men that had gone missing, only to turn up later with no memory of where they had been. He tried to reassure himself that he would most likely suffer a similar fate, meaning his life wasn't in danger.
As Blevins drove off, Officer O'Brien pulled the leash, forcing Pete into the building.
He couldn't believe what he saw inside. They were in a large, open room. There were dozens of police officers, sitting at desks, reading, watching television, playing video games. A few looked up when they saw Pete but went back to what they were doing, seemingly uninterested.
Along the back wall were doors- Pete tried not to imagine what they led to. He was about to find out as O'Brien led him to a middle door and opened it.
"You'll be given some food shortly." O'Brien told him as he unclipped the leash from the collar and pushed Pete him through the door.
As he heard the lock click from the outside, Pete waited a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He was in a small room, not much larger than a closet. There was no furniture, with the exception of two wooden benches.
Sitting on one of the benches was a young man, about Pete’s age. His clothes were dirty and torn, and he sported a fresh black eye.
He looked up at Pete without any sign of surprise. “My advice...do what they tell you.”
After driving even deeper into the forest for what seemed an eternity, the car passed through a small gate in a barbed wire fence and then stopped in front of a large building.
Pete saw two more police officers come out of the building and begin walking towards the car. He noticed that their uniforms were from different police departments. He wasn’t certain but he thought one was from another state.
One of the officers approached the drivers side door while the other approached Pete’s door. The officer standing outside of Pete’s door was a muscular, blond policeman who had his hand resting on his holstered weapon. Pete couldn't see his other hand.
The second officer, a dark hared Hispanic man, spoke to Blevins. "Another one so quickly? I'm impressed."
"I think you'll appreciate this one, Alvarez. Normal fee?"
The officer Blevins referred to as Alvarez handed Blevins an envelope, and then turned to the second officer. "O'Brien, get him ready."
The blond officer-O'Brien-opened the door to the police car. He began buckling something around Pete's neck.
Pete realized almost too late that the officer had been holding something in the hand that Pete hadn't seen. Before Pete had time to pull back, the officer had placed a leather collar on Pete and was pulling on the leash that was attached. Pete moved quickly to keep from being knocked over. With his arms tied behind him and to his sides, he saw no choice but to cooperate. He thought of the story he had come here to investigate- the men that had gone missing, only to turn up later with no memory of where they had been. He tried to reassure himself that he would most likely suffer a similar fate, meaning his life wasn't in danger.
As Blevins drove off, Officer O'Brien pulled the leash, forcing Pete into the building.
He couldn't believe what he saw inside. They were in a large, open room. There were dozens of police officers, sitting at desks, reading, watching television, playing video games. A few looked up when they saw Pete but went back to what they were doing, seemingly uninterested.
Along the back wall were doors- Pete tried not to imagine what they led to. He was about to find out as O'Brien led him to a middle door and opened it.
"You'll be given some food shortly." O'Brien told him as he unclipped the leash from the collar and pushed Pete him through the door.
As he heard the lock click from the outside, Pete waited a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He was in a small room, not much larger than a closet. There was no furniture, with the exception of two wooden benches.
Sitting on one of the benches was a young man, about Pete’s age. His clothes were dirty and torn, and he sported a fresh black eye.
He looked up at Pete without any sign of surprise. “My advice...do what they tell you.”
Part 4
"Are you all right?" Pete asked his new roommate once they were alone in the small room.
"This?" The man gestured vaguely at his bruised face. "Could be worse. Here, let me help you." The man moved around behind Pete and started untying the ropes binding his arms. "The name's Alex.”
Once his arms were free, Pete instinctively wiggles his fingers to get some feeling back in them. “Thanks,” he said. He noticed for the first time that Alex wearing a collar identical to the one that had been placed on him out in the car.
Alex noticed Pete feeling for the collar. “Sorry. They’re padlocked on.”
Just then the door was opened slightly and a tray was slid into the small room. It contained two bowls of lumpy oatmeal and two water bottles. Alex said, “I’d eat it. You’ll need your strength.”
Pete realized he hadn’t eaten since the airplane, which had to have been hours ago. He was starving. He forced himself to eat the bland oatmeal and the guzzled the water bottle.
With his stomach full, Pete was able to turn his mind back to his current predicament. “What is this place?” He asked Alex.
Before Alex could respond, the door to their small room opened. There were four men standing there. Two of them were holding leashes similar to the one that had been used to force Pete out of the police car earlier.
Alex groaned. “Again?!”
"Are you all right?" Pete asked his new roommate once they were alone in the small room.
"This?" The man gestured vaguely at his bruised face. "Could be worse. Here, let me help you." The man moved around behind Pete and started untying the ropes binding his arms. "The name's Alex.”
Once his arms were free, Pete instinctively wiggles his fingers to get some feeling back in them. “Thanks,” he said. He noticed for the first time that Alex wearing a collar identical to the one that had been placed on him out in the car.
Alex noticed Pete feeling for the collar. “Sorry. They’re padlocked on.”
Just then the door was opened slightly and a tray was slid into the small room. It contained two bowls of lumpy oatmeal and two water bottles. Alex said, “I’d eat it. You’ll need your strength.”
Pete realized he hadn’t eaten since the airplane, which had to have been hours ago. He was starving. He forced himself to eat the bland oatmeal and the guzzled the water bottle.
With his stomach full, Pete was able to turn his mind back to his current predicament. “What is this place?” He asked Alex.
Before Alex could respond, the door to their small room opened. There were four men standing there. Two of them were holding leashes similar to the one that had been used to force Pete out of the police car earlier.
Alex groaned. “Again?!”
I like where this is going! Keep it up!
Thanks! I’m glad you’re enjoying it. More coming soon!
Part 5
The four men were so huge they filled the doorway and the space beyond so that Pete could see nothing else. Although they were wearing street clothes, Pete knew immediately from their muscular frames that they were policemen or possibly military.
The tallest of the four spoke first. “What do you think, Johnson? Do they look guilty to you?”
The man to his right- Johnson, apparently- replied. “Definitely, Rodgers. They are definitely hiding something. Drugs, probably.”
The first man- Rodgers- laughed. “We’ll take the new guy.” He sneered at Alex. “Maggot, you’re with McNulty and Simpson.”
The two men that had been identified as McNulty and Simpson entered the holding room, clipped the leash in Alex’s collar, and gave a yank. Alex, hanging his head, stood up an obediently followed the two men out into the hallway.
Rodgers snatched the leash out of Johnson’s hand. “I’ve got this” he said as he clipped it on Pete’s collar. “So. You think you can smuggle drugs into my jail?”
Pete had no idea what was happening. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said honestly.
Rodgers immediately punched Pete in the jaw, knocking him over and momentarily knocking the wind out of him.
“You will address me as Sir,” Rodgers barked. “Do you understand?”
“Yes... Sir” Pete managed to force the words out even though he was still breathless from the unexpected punch.
Rodgers gave the leash a tug and Pete managed to get to his feet and stand. “Let’s go, Maggot.” Rodgers forced a Pete out of the little room and into the hallway.
He was led through the waiting room where the policemen had been congregating earlier- there was hardly anyone left in there now, Pete noticed.
Rodgers and Johnson matched Pete through another door and into a much larger space.
This room was different than any Pete has seen in this complex. One long side of the room contained what looked like prison cells. It looked like a couple of them were occupied by men about Pete’s age. The center of the large space contained several structural pillars leading to the ceiling. Several tables throughout the room were covered with an assortment of ropes, tapes, bandages and handcuffs
Pete noticed that Alex was already here. He was on the floor, face down. McNulty was meticulously binging his arms together with rope while Simpson was tying his ankles together. Alex didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.
Pete didn’t have much time to take in many more details because Rodgers was forcing him down onto the floor. “Are you ready to tell me about that drugs?”
Pete didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t want to get punched again. Based on Rodgers’ massive size it was likely that the first punch hasn’t been nearly the amount of force that Rodgers was capable of.
“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” Pete muttered, quickly adding “Sir.”
Rodgers smiled at Johnson. “We’re going to have some fun now!”
The four men were so huge they filled the doorway and the space beyond so that Pete could see nothing else. Although they were wearing street clothes, Pete knew immediately from their muscular frames that they were policemen or possibly military.
The tallest of the four spoke first. “What do you think, Johnson? Do they look guilty to you?”
The man to his right- Johnson, apparently- replied. “Definitely, Rodgers. They are definitely hiding something. Drugs, probably.”
The first man- Rodgers- laughed. “We’ll take the new guy.” He sneered at Alex. “Maggot, you’re with McNulty and Simpson.”
The two men that had been identified as McNulty and Simpson entered the holding room, clipped the leash in Alex’s collar, and gave a yank. Alex, hanging his head, stood up an obediently followed the two men out into the hallway.
Rodgers snatched the leash out of Johnson’s hand. “I’ve got this” he said as he clipped it on Pete’s collar. “So. You think you can smuggle drugs into my jail?”
Pete had no idea what was happening. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said honestly.
Rodgers immediately punched Pete in the jaw, knocking him over and momentarily knocking the wind out of him.
“You will address me as Sir,” Rodgers barked. “Do you understand?”
“Yes... Sir” Pete managed to force the words out even though he was still breathless from the unexpected punch.
Rodgers gave the leash a tug and Pete managed to get to his feet and stand. “Let’s go, Maggot.” Rodgers forced a Pete out of the little room and into the hallway.
He was led through the waiting room where the policemen had been congregating earlier- there was hardly anyone left in there now, Pete noticed.
Rodgers and Johnson matched Pete through another door and into a much larger space.
This room was different than any Pete has seen in this complex. One long side of the room contained what looked like prison cells. It looked like a couple of them were occupied by men about Pete’s age. The center of the large space contained several structural pillars leading to the ceiling. Several tables throughout the room were covered with an assortment of ropes, tapes, bandages and handcuffs
Pete noticed that Alex was already here. He was on the floor, face down. McNulty was meticulously binging his arms together with rope while Simpson was tying his ankles together. Alex didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.
Pete didn’t have much time to take in many more details because Rodgers was forcing him down onto the floor. “Are you ready to tell me about that drugs?”
Pete didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t want to get punched again. Based on Rodgers’ massive size it was likely that the first punch hasn’t been nearly the amount of force that Rodgers was capable of.
“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” Pete muttered, quickly adding “Sir.”
Rodgers smiled at Johnson. “We’re going to have some fun now!”
Part 6
Before Pete realized what was happening, Rodgers had grabbed Pete by the shoulders and thrown him to the floor. Johnson grabbed Pete’s head, forcing it against the cold floor.
Rodgers sat on Pete’s legs and grabbed each of Pete’s arms, pinning them in a twisted position behind his back. “This is your last chance to tell me what I want to know.”
Pete decided the best course of action was to keep quiet. Rodgers didn’t say anything else as he started wrapping scratchy rope around Pete’s crossed wrists. He then looped the rope around Pete’s waste and tied his arms tightly down. More rope was added around his upper and lower arms until he was unable to move his arms at all.
Meanwhile Johnson had let go of Pete’s head and started working on his legs. First he tied his angles together. Then he tied ropes above and below the knees. When this was done, Johnson sat on Pete’s bent legs, forcing his feet close to his wrists. Rodgers then tied a rope from the ankles to the wrists, resulting in a very constricting hogtie.
Pete noticed that Alex was hogtied in a similar position.
Rodgers and Johnson high fived each other “Good one! Record time, too!” Johnson complimented Rodgers.
The door at the entrance to the room opened and an elderly gentleman entered. “Rodgers, Johnson, McNulty, Simpson. Good work.” The older man stood over Pete and Alex and nodded. “Excellent rope work. Good timing. Well done.”
High fives all around. The four men continued slapping each other on their backs and floating as they left the room. The elderly gentleman looked down at the two helpless men tied up on the floor. “The rule is the same as always. If you can free yourselves in two hours, you will be released. If not, you continue up be our honored guests.” The man strolled out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Before Pete realized what was happening, Rodgers had grabbed Pete by the shoulders and thrown him to the floor. Johnson grabbed Pete’s head, forcing it against the cold floor.
Rodgers sat on Pete’s legs and grabbed each of Pete’s arms, pinning them in a twisted position behind his back. “This is your last chance to tell me what I want to know.”
Pete decided the best course of action was to keep quiet. Rodgers didn’t say anything else as he started wrapping scratchy rope around Pete’s crossed wrists. He then looped the rope around Pete’s waste and tied his arms tightly down. More rope was added around his upper and lower arms until he was unable to move his arms at all.
Meanwhile Johnson had let go of Pete’s head and started working on his legs. First he tied his angles together. Then he tied ropes above and below the knees. When this was done, Johnson sat on Pete’s bent legs, forcing his feet close to his wrists. Rodgers then tied a rope from the ankles to the wrists, resulting in a very constricting hogtie.
Pete noticed that Alex was hogtied in a similar position.
Rodgers and Johnson high fived each other “Good one! Record time, too!” Johnson complimented Rodgers.
The door at the entrance to the room opened and an elderly gentleman entered. “Rodgers, Johnson, McNulty, Simpson. Good work.” The older man stood over Pete and Alex and nodded. “Excellent rope work. Good timing. Well done.”
High fives all around. The four men continued slapping each other on their backs and floating as they left the room. The elderly gentleman looked down at the two helpless men tied up on the floor. “The rule is the same as always. If you can free yourselves in two hours, you will be released. If not, you continue up be our honored guests.” The man strolled out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Part 7
Alex and Pete were alone now, except for the two men in the jail cells, who seemed to be asleep. Pete tried frantically to find a loose rope or stray knot to work on, but his fingers couldn’t seem to reach anything. Rodgers and Johnson knew what they were doing when they tied him up.
Pete noticed that Alex wasn’t moving much. He was watching Pete struggle. “You won’t be able to get free, you know.”
Pete calmed down and let his body relax. He could feel the ropes cutting into his skin. Whoever these people were, they knew how to successfully restrain a victim.
“I tried, the first few times. Finally realized it was hopeless. They have us and there’s nothing we can do.” Alex sounded deflated.
Pete tried again to wiggle one of his arms loose. Nothing budged. He managed to shift his body slightly so he was directly facing Alex, who was hogtied a few feet away. “What the hell is this place?”
Alex tried to shrug, but his tied arms made this impossible. “Your guess is as good as mine. Seems to attract policemen from all over the country, though, from what I’ve seen.”
Pete thought about all the different uniforms he’d seen on the men as he was brought in. “So these guys come here to - what? Practice?”
Alex thought a moment. “Maybe they feel constrained by rules and regulations where they work. They can’t be as rough with prisoners as they’d like.”
“I came here to investigate missing men from all over the country. I guess I’ve discovered where they were kept.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “So, this has happened to others? And no ones shut it down?”
“Once the were found, all the men had amnesia. That’s the part of the story I still can’t figure out.”
Alex started to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening. It was the elderly gentleman from before. He was followed by two large men dressed as hospital orderlies. “Two hours. Time’s up. Looks like you will be our guests for another day.”
The two orderlies picked Alex up off the floor and carried him back to the small room with the benches. They returned for Pete. When they placed Pete on the floor of the small room, one of them reached down and removed the rope from around Pete’s wrists. They immediately left, locking the door securely.
Pete was able to move his arms a bit now, and with some effort he was able to loosen the ropes around his elbows. After a few minutes he had worked himself loose and began untying Alex.
Alex and Pete were alone now, except for the two men in the jail cells, who seemed to be asleep. Pete tried frantically to find a loose rope or stray knot to work on, but his fingers couldn’t seem to reach anything. Rodgers and Johnson knew what they were doing when they tied him up.
Pete noticed that Alex wasn’t moving much. He was watching Pete struggle. “You won’t be able to get free, you know.”
Pete calmed down and let his body relax. He could feel the ropes cutting into his skin. Whoever these people were, they knew how to successfully restrain a victim.
“I tried, the first few times. Finally realized it was hopeless. They have us and there’s nothing we can do.” Alex sounded deflated.
Pete tried again to wiggle one of his arms loose. Nothing budged. He managed to shift his body slightly so he was directly facing Alex, who was hogtied a few feet away. “What the hell is this place?”
Alex tried to shrug, but his tied arms made this impossible. “Your guess is as good as mine. Seems to attract policemen from all over the country, though, from what I’ve seen.”
Pete thought about all the different uniforms he’d seen on the men as he was brought in. “So these guys come here to - what? Practice?”
Alex thought a moment. “Maybe they feel constrained by rules and regulations where they work. They can’t be as rough with prisoners as they’d like.”
“I came here to investigate missing men from all over the country. I guess I’ve discovered where they were kept.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “So, this has happened to others? And no ones shut it down?”
“Once the were found, all the men had amnesia. That’s the part of the story I still can’t figure out.”
Alex started to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening. It was the elderly gentleman from before. He was followed by two large men dressed as hospital orderlies. “Two hours. Time’s up. Looks like you will be our guests for another day.”
The two orderlies picked Alex up off the floor and carried him back to the small room with the benches. They returned for Pete. When they placed Pete on the floor of the small room, one of them reached down and removed the rope from around Pete’s wrists. They immediately left, locking the door securely.
Pete was able to move his arms a bit now, and with some effort he was able to loosen the ropes around his elbows. After a few minutes he had worked himself loose and began untying Alex.
Part 8
After freeing Alex, Pete realized he was exhausted. He devoured the oatmeal and water that had been left for him, and then he fell asleep on one of the benches.
When he awoke, the reality of his current situation began to sink in. He hadn’t seen a window or a clock since he’d arrived here, so he had no idea how much time had passed. Had he been here hours? Days?
He also noticed Alex was no longer in the little room. He was by himself. With no one to talk to, boredom set in. He paced around the little room. He was beginning to think of it as his own little prison cell. He walked from one end of the room to the other and back again in just a few steps.
He started to wonder what fate had in store. The missing men had ll turned up, hadn’t they? Maybe those had been the lucky ones. Who knows how many people had fallen Into this little trap? And what about the amnesia? What could have happened to make all those men forget what they had experienced?
His thoughts were interrupted by someone opening the door. Pete turned and saw a little, scrawny man wearing what looked to be a security guard’s uniform. He looked like the kind of hourly rent-a-guard that might walk a mall or grocery store in a rough part of town. He also appeared to be easily 70 or 80 years old.
The security guard didn’t say a word. He simply stood in the doorway, looked at Pete, and crooked his finger in a “come here” gesture.
Pete knew that if he was going to try to escape, this was his best chance. If he could make it to the hallway past the guard, he would make a run for it.
As luck would have it, the old man didn’t have a lease to attach to Pete’s collar. He merely pointed down the hall towards the large room Pete has been taken to before.
Pete obediently headed in the direction indicated. However, he noticed a door a little further down the hall that looked larger and sturdier. Could it be an exterior door? Knowing he could easily outrun thus guard, he decided to try to get out of the building. He would worry about the surrounding woods once he made it that far.
Pete was off like a shot. He ran to the exterior door as quickly as he could. The old security guard shuffled down the hallway, seemingly in no hurry to catch up with him.
When Pete made it to the door, he discovered it was locked. He banged, pushed, pulled, and used every force he could think of. It wouldn’t budge.
Meanwhile the security guard walked towards him at the same unnerving, leisurely pace. It was creeping Pete out.
Finally, the security guard was right next to Pete. He frowned at him, reached into a pocket, pulled out a small device and pressed it against Pete’s skin.
Pete immediately felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, causing his legs to buckle. He collapsed to the floor in pain.
It took him a moment to catch his breath. But when he did, he looked up at the security guard, patiently waiting. The guard made the same “come here” gesture with his finger that he’d made before.
Pete, defeated, forced himself back up onto his shaky legs. He begrudgingly followed the little man back into the room he’d been tied up in before.
This time there was no one else there. Even the prison cells were empty. He expected to be hogtied again but the guard pointed to one of the cells. Pete followed his direction.
By pointing, the guard indicated for Pete to stand with his back against the bars of the cell. Once he complied, the guard produced a pair of metal handcuffs. He locked one cuff around Pete’s wrist and then lifted Pete’s arm until it lined up with the bars of the cell and locked the other cuff around the bar where it met a cross piece so Pete couldn’t move it up or down. He repeated the process with the other arm. Pete was now standing against the bars with his arms stretched out to his sides and slightly above his head.
The guard kicked Pete’s legs apart and then cuffed each ankle to the lower bars. Pete was chained in an X shape against the bars.
Now that Pete wasn’t going anywhere, the guard got to work. He walked over to the supply table and selected an assortment of ropes. He began tying various areas of Pete’s body to the bars of the cell. He worked slowly but after awhile he was covered in ropes up and down his arms and legs, and several long pieces were tightly holding his chest to the bars. He wasn’t going anywhere.
The old security guard stood back and admired his work, as if he were studying a masterpiece hanging in a museum. A small smile appeared on his face.
Because the man hadn’t spoken at all during their encounter, Pete was taken aback when he heard a voice coming out of a speaker in the ceiling. “Good work, Mr. Smith. Well done.”
The security guard did a silly little bow and then left the room. Pete was completely alone.
“And as for you,” the voice continued harshly, “your pathetic escape attempt hasn’t gone unnoticed. We’ve decided to double your time. You will have four hours to get loose. As promised, you will be free to go if you do. If not, you will remain here as our guest. Good luck!” The speaker clicked off and Pete was surrounded by silence. Of course he realized he would never be able to free himself from the handcuffs. He had no choice but to wait.
After freeing Alex, Pete realized he was exhausted. He devoured the oatmeal and water that had been left for him, and then he fell asleep on one of the benches.
When he awoke, the reality of his current situation began to sink in. He hadn’t seen a window or a clock since he’d arrived here, so he had no idea how much time had passed. Had he been here hours? Days?
He also noticed Alex was no longer in the little room. He was by himself. With no one to talk to, boredom set in. He paced around the little room. He was beginning to think of it as his own little prison cell. He walked from one end of the room to the other and back again in just a few steps.
He started to wonder what fate had in store. The missing men had ll turned up, hadn’t they? Maybe those had been the lucky ones. Who knows how many people had fallen Into this little trap? And what about the amnesia? What could have happened to make all those men forget what they had experienced?
His thoughts were interrupted by someone opening the door. Pete turned and saw a little, scrawny man wearing what looked to be a security guard’s uniform. He looked like the kind of hourly rent-a-guard that might walk a mall or grocery store in a rough part of town. He also appeared to be easily 70 or 80 years old.
The security guard didn’t say a word. He simply stood in the doorway, looked at Pete, and crooked his finger in a “come here” gesture.
Pete knew that if he was going to try to escape, this was his best chance. If he could make it to the hallway past the guard, he would make a run for it.
As luck would have it, the old man didn’t have a lease to attach to Pete’s collar. He merely pointed down the hall towards the large room Pete has been taken to before.
Pete obediently headed in the direction indicated. However, he noticed a door a little further down the hall that looked larger and sturdier. Could it be an exterior door? Knowing he could easily outrun thus guard, he decided to try to get out of the building. He would worry about the surrounding woods once he made it that far.
Pete was off like a shot. He ran to the exterior door as quickly as he could. The old security guard shuffled down the hallway, seemingly in no hurry to catch up with him.
When Pete made it to the door, he discovered it was locked. He banged, pushed, pulled, and used every force he could think of. It wouldn’t budge.
Meanwhile the security guard walked towards him at the same unnerving, leisurely pace. It was creeping Pete out.
Finally, the security guard was right next to Pete. He frowned at him, reached into a pocket, pulled out a small device and pressed it against Pete’s skin.
Pete immediately felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, causing his legs to buckle. He collapsed to the floor in pain.
It took him a moment to catch his breath. But when he did, he looked up at the security guard, patiently waiting. The guard made the same “come here” gesture with his finger that he’d made before.
Pete, defeated, forced himself back up onto his shaky legs. He begrudgingly followed the little man back into the room he’d been tied up in before.
This time there was no one else there. Even the prison cells were empty. He expected to be hogtied again but the guard pointed to one of the cells. Pete followed his direction.
By pointing, the guard indicated for Pete to stand with his back against the bars of the cell. Once he complied, the guard produced a pair of metal handcuffs. He locked one cuff around Pete’s wrist and then lifted Pete’s arm until it lined up with the bars of the cell and locked the other cuff around the bar where it met a cross piece so Pete couldn’t move it up or down. He repeated the process with the other arm. Pete was now standing against the bars with his arms stretched out to his sides and slightly above his head.
The guard kicked Pete’s legs apart and then cuffed each ankle to the lower bars. Pete was chained in an X shape against the bars.
Now that Pete wasn’t going anywhere, the guard got to work. He walked over to the supply table and selected an assortment of ropes. He began tying various areas of Pete’s body to the bars of the cell. He worked slowly but after awhile he was covered in ropes up and down his arms and legs, and several long pieces were tightly holding his chest to the bars. He wasn’t going anywhere.
The old security guard stood back and admired his work, as if he were studying a masterpiece hanging in a museum. A small smile appeared on his face.
Because the man hadn’t spoken at all during their encounter, Pete was taken aback when he heard a voice coming out of a speaker in the ceiling. “Good work, Mr. Smith. Well done.”
The security guard did a silly little bow and then left the room. Pete was completely alone.
“And as for you,” the voice continued harshly, “your pathetic escape attempt hasn’t gone unnoticed. We’ve decided to double your time. You will have four hours to get loose. As promised, you will be free to go if you do. If not, you will remain here as our guest. Good luck!” The speaker clicked off and Pete was surrounded by silence. Of course he realized he would never be able to free himself from the handcuffs. He had no choice but to wait.
-
harveygasson
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1395
- Joined: 6 years ago
Great work so far
Thanks! I’m glad you like it.
Part 9
As the minutes crawled by, Pete tried to rake his mind off of the uncomfortable position he’d been left in. The ropes around his arms and legs were tied so tightly that his muscles were already aching.
He tried shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He tried resting his head in the gap between two bars. He tried closing his eyes and imagining himself somewhere- anywhere- else.
As he endured this predicament, an occasional visitor would stroll thru the space. A couple of times it would be another policeman or guard who would admire the rope work or make a snide comment and then leave. Once a janitor came thru to sweep up. He paid no attention to Pete.
Pete had no way to know how much time had passed. Finally, a stocky guard came by with a handcuff key. “Four hours is up,” he said flatly.
He unlocked the handcuffs and leg cuffs. Then he stepped back and watched as Pete tried to shake his arms loose from the bindings. They were too tight.
The guard untied a rope here and there and stepped back and watched as Pete tried desperately to get himself loose. Finally the guard chuckled and untied the ropes around Pete’s chest. Pete fell to the floor, exhausted.
The guard clipped the leash onto Pete’s collar and pulled him back to his feet. He marched down the hallway back toward the little room with the two benches as Pete tried to force energy back into his extremely sore leg muscles.
When he got back for the room, the guard removed the leash, shoved Pete through the doorway and locked it.
Pete curled up in a fetal position on the floor and felt into a deep sleep.
As the minutes crawled by, Pete tried to rake his mind off of the uncomfortable position he’d been left in. The ropes around his arms and legs were tied so tightly that his muscles were already aching.
He tried shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He tried resting his head in the gap between two bars. He tried closing his eyes and imagining himself somewhere- anywhere- else.
As he endured this predicament, an occasional visitor would stroll thru the space. A couple of times it would be another policeman or guard who would admire the rope work or make a snide comment and then leave. Once a janitor came thru to sweep up. He paid no attention to Pete.
Pete had no way to know how much time had passed. Finally, a stocky guard came by with a handcuff key. “Four hours is up,” he said flatly.
He unlocked the handcuffs and leg cuffs. Then he stepped back and watched as Pete tried to shake his arms loose from the bindings. They were too tight.
The guard untied a rope here and there and stepped back and watched as Pete tried desperately to get himself loose. Finally the guard chuckled and untied the ropes around Pete’s chest. Pete fell to the floor, exhausted.
The guard clipped the leash onto Pete’s collar and pulled him back to his feet. He marched down the hallway back toward the little room with the two benches as Pete tried to force energy back into his extremely sore leg muscles.
When he got back for the room, the guard removed the leash, shoved Pete through the doorway and locked it.
Pete curled up in a fetal position on the floor and felt into a deep sleep.
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YourCaptor75
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 123
- Joined: 4 years ago
I am honestly shocked this hasn't received more attention considering the quality of it. Really smart writing, leaves us wanting more and more.
Keep it up!
Keep it up!
I agree. This is an intriguing story.YourCaptor75 wrote: ↑3 years ago I am honestly shocked this hasn't received more attention considering the quality of it. Really smart writing, leaves us wanting more and more.
Keep it up!
Part 10
Pete had no way of knowing how long he’d slept. When he awoke, he was actually feeling rested. What’s more, he was starving. He hoped someone would bring him something to eat soon.
Suddenly he realized what had awoken him. There was the sound of a scuffle in the hallway beyond his locked door. It sounded as if someone was putting up a major struggle.
The door opened, and a young man was forced into Pete’s room. Pete just caught a glimpse of two unformed officers as the door was slammed and relocked.
The man who had been so quickly introduced into Pete’s little room was young. Barely 18, Pete thought. His lip was busted and bleeding, and both eyes were bruised. His hands were tied behind his back, and his arms had been tied down to his sides with rope looped around his chest. He wore the same padlocked collar as Pete.
When Pete stepped towards him, the young man instinctively back away. His hands tied, he kicked at Pete defensively.
“Calm down, Man,” Pete said kindly. “Let me help you.”
The young man hesitated, and then sat down on one of the benches. Pete started working to loosen the knots in the rope tied around his chest.
“I don’t know what happened,” the young man finally spoke. “I was walking home from work. My car’s in the shop. Suddenly this police car pulled up and-“
“I know.” Pete said, “this place is pretty messed up.”
The young man seemed to be calming down. “My name’s Austin.”
“Pete. I’d shake your hand but I’m still trying to untie it.”
Austin chuckled a little.
Pete finally succeeded in undoing the ropes around Austin’s wrists. “Sorry about the collar. I can’t help you with that.”
Austin was examining the marks and grooves on his arms where the ropes had been. “What do they want with us?”
Pete shrugged. “It seems to be some type of entertainment center for law enforcement types.”
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the door opening. Sensing an opportunity, Austin darted into the hallway, taking a chance of escape. Before Pete could react, Austin came flying back into the room. A large fist appeared in the doorway, followed by the large man attached to it.
The large man, a thick necked, muscular jarhead in military uniform, barked into the room.
“The two captured spies will stand for inspection!”
Two younger men in army fatigues followed the officer into the room. “Reporting for duty, Sergeant,” they stated in unison.
The ‘sargeant’ sneered at Pete and Austin. “Gentlemen, these loathsome spies were captured on the border. We are to find out who they work for.”
Pete rolled his eyes. After all he had endured in this place, the play acting was perhaps the most annoying.
Pete looked at Austin. He was cowering in the corner, covering his face in his hands. “it’s okay,” Pete whispered. “Just cooperate.”
The two army men followed the Sargent in the room. “They look like troublemakers to me.”
The Sargent smirked. “You know what to do with troublemakers.”
The large Sargent moved further into the room and grabbed Pete. He forced Pete face down on the bench and sat on his back, pinning his arms. Pete couldn’t move under the weight and could only watch what happened next.
The two army men forced Austin onto the bench. They tied his arms together behind his back. Then they began wrapping rope around his body and the bench, tying him down to the bench from his upper back to his ankles.
The Sargent stepped out of the way and the two men moved to the other side of the soon, repeating the identical procedure on Pete.
Pete and Austin stared at each other from their benches. Neither could move due to the tight ropes covering their entire bodies.
“Now,” the Sargent said, as he admired the finished job. “You will have some time to think about your situation. It would be in your best interests to tell us who you are working for.” The three men laughed.
“Oh, and one more thing. One of our spies has been naughty. One of our spies needs to learn that one does not try to escape punishment.”
He kneeled next to Austin’s head. “I’ve been saving these for a special occasion. You see, I wear these every morning when I complete my workout. I haven’t washed them in weeks.” He produced from his pocket a balled up pair of gym socks which has probably at some time been white, but were now a dingy grey. Austin, realizing what was coming, clamped his mouth shut. The Sargent held Austin’s nose. After a few moments Austin was forced to open his mouth for air, and the Sargent shoved in the socks, cupping his hand over Austin’s mouth to hold them in.
One of the army men produced a roll of duct tape. When the Sargent moved his hand, he began wrapping the tape over Austin’s mouth and around his head. After about ten layers, the socks were sealed in, and Austin was effectively silenced.
“Let this be a lesson. No one leaves this place until their time is up.” The Sargent patted Austin on the head and the three men left the room, locking the door behind them.
Pete had no way of knowing how long he’d slept. When he awoke, he was actually feeling rested. What’s more, he was starving. He hoped someone would bring him something to eat soon.
Suddenly he realized what had awoken him. There was the sound of a scuffle in the hallway beyond his locked door. It sounded as if someone was putting up a major struggle.
The door opened, and a young man was forced into Pete’s room. Pete just caught a glimpse of two unformed officers as the door was slammed and relocked.
The man who had been so quickly introduced into Pete’s little room was young. Barely 18, Pete thought. His lip was busted and bleeding, and both eyes were bruised. His hands were tied behind his back, and his arms had been tied down to his sides with rope looped around his chest. He wore the same padlocked collar as Pete.
When Pete stepped towards him, the young man instinctively back away. His hands tied, he kicked at Pete defensively.
“Calm down, Man,” Pete said kindly. “Let me help you.”
The young man hesitated, and then sat down on one of the benches. Pete started working to loosen the knots in the rope tied around his chest.
“I don’t know what happened,” the young man finally spoke. “I was walking home from work. My car’s in the shop. Suddenly this police car pulled up and-“
“I know.” Pete said, “this place is pretty messed up.”
The young man seemed to be calming down. “My name’s Austin.”
“Pete. I’d shake your hand but I’m still trying to untie it.”
Austin chuckled a little.
Pete finally succeeded in undoing the ropes around Austin’s wrists. “Sorry about the collar. I can’t help you with that.”
Austin was examining the marks and grooves on his arms where the ropes had been. “What do they want with us?”
Pete shrugged. “It seems to be some type of entertainment center for law enforcement types.”
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the door opening. Sensing an opportunity, Austin darted into the hallway, taking a chance of escape. Before Pete could react, Austin came flying back into the room. A large fist appeared in the doorway, followed by the large man attached to it.
The large man, a thick necked, muscular jarhead in military uniform, barked into the room.
“The two captured spies will stand for inspection!”
Two younger men in army fatigues followed the officer into the room. “Reporting for duty, Sergeant,” they stated in unison.
The ‘sargeant’ sneered at Pete and Austin. “Gentlemen, these loathsome spies were captured on the border. We are to find out who they work for.”
Pete rolled his eyes. After all he had endured in this place, the play acting was perhaps the most annoying.
Pete looked at Austin. He was cowering in the corner, covering his face in his hands. “it’s okay,” Pete whispered. “Just cooperate.”
The two army men followed the Sargent in the room. “They look like troublemakers to me.”
The Sargent smirked. “You know what to do with troublemakers.”
The large Sargent moved further into the room and grabbed Pete. He forced Pete face down on the bench and sat on his back, pinning his arms. Pete couldn’t move under the weight and could only watch what happened next.
The two army men forced Austin onto the bench. They tied his arms together behind his back. Then they began wrapping rope around his body and the bench, tying him down to the bench from his upper back to his ankles.
The Sargent stepped out of the way and the two men moved to the other side of the soon, repeating the identical procedure on Pete.
Pete and Austin stared at each other from their benches. Neither could move due to the tight ropes covering their entire bodies.
“Now,” the Sargent said, as he admired the finished job. “You will have some time to think about your situation. It would be in your best interests to tell us who you are working for.” The three men laughed.
“Oh, and one more thing. One of our spies has been naughty. One of our spies needs to learn that one does not try to escape punishment.”
He kneeled next to Austin’s head. “I’ve been saving these for a special occasion. You see, I wear these every morning when I complete my workout. I haven’t washed them in weeks.” He produced from his pocket a balled up pair of gym socks which has probably at some time been white, but were now a dingy grey. Austin, realizing what was coming, clamped his mouth shut. The Sargent held Austin’s nose. After a few moments Austin was forced to open his mouth for air, and the Sargent shoved in the socks, cupping his hand over Austin’s mouth to hold them in.
One of the army men produced a roll of duct tape. When the Sargent moved his hand, he began wrapping the tape over Austin’s mouth and around his head. After about ten layers, the socks were sealed in, and Austin was effectively silenced.
“Let this be a lesson. No one leaves this place until their time is up.” The Sargent patted Austin on the head and the three men left the room, locking the door behind them.
Part 11
Pete tried to feel around for a loose knot or stray strand but they had made sure the knots were nowhere near his fingers. The bench was hard, and the ropes around his chest and legs were tied so tightly that his body was pressed uncomfortably against the wood. He assumed they would release him in a few hours, as they had before.
He looked over at Austin. The poor young man was shouting into his gag, but all Pete heard was muffled grunts. Austin was furiously convulsing against the ropes holding him to his bench, but he wasn’t making any more progress than Pete had.
“Hey,” Pete said, over the muffled screaming. “Calm down. You’re not going to get loose.”
This made Austin fight against the ropes all the more aggressively. He was breathing heavy now and working up a sweat. He continued to try to force words out around the socks crammed in his mouth, but Pete had no idea what he was trying to say.
“Austin, listen to me,” Pete whispered. “You don’t want to give them any reason to come back in here. Just try to keep calm until our time is up. Then at least we will have some quiet time before someone ties us up again.”
The word “again” seemed to agitate Austin even more. He began bucking so wildly in the ropes that he was lifting one end of the bench up off the floor, causing a bang each time it slammed back down.
After a few minutes of this, two men entered the room. Without saying a word, they picked up the bench by both ends and carried the bench, with Aston still tied firmly to it, out of the room.
Pete could here Austin’s muffled screams as he was carried off.
Pete tried to feel around for a loose knot or stray strand but they had made sure the knots were nowhere near his fingers. The bench was hard, and the ropes around his chest and legs were tied so tightly that his body was pressed uncomfortably against the wood. He assumed they would release him in a few hours, as they had before.
He looked over at Austin. The poor young man was shouting into his gag, but all Pete heard was muffled grunts. Austin was furiously convulsing against the ropes holding him to his bench, but he wasn’t making any more progress than Pete had.
“Hey,” Pete said, over the muffled screaming. “Calm down. You’re not going to get loose.”
This made Austin fight against the ropes all the more aggressively. He was breathing heavy now and working up a sweat. He continued to try to force words out around the socks crammed in his mouth, but Pete had no idea what he was trying to say.
“Austin, listen to me,” Pete whispered. “You don’t want to give them any reason to come back in here. Just try to keep calm until our time is up. Then at least we will have some quiet time before someone ties us up again.”
The word “again” seemed to agitate Austin even more. He began bucking so wildly in the ropes that he was lifting one end of the bench up off the floor, causing a bang each time it slammed back down.
After a few minutes of this, two men entered the room. Without saying a word, they picked up the bench by both ends and carried the bench, with Aston still tied firmly to it, out of the room.
Pete could here Austin’s muffled screams as he was carried off.
Part 12
After awhile, Pete couldn’t hear anything at all out in the hallways. He wondered where they had taken Austin.
Out of boredom, he tried straining against the ropes that held him to the wooden bench. As usual, they had been tied so expertly that there was no way to free himself. He figured he would have to wait for someone to come release him.
His mind wandering, he soon fell asleep. When he awoke, he was surprised to find himself completely untied from the bench. There was no sign of the ropes that had been used on him. Even more surprising, the door to his room was open.
He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he take the opportunity to try to escape? Or was this some kind of trap?
He cautiously stepped into the doorway and looked down the hallway in both directions. He remembered the door he he had made it to before, only to find it locked. And he didn’t care to feel the taser again.
Suddenly a man appeared from another door down the hall. He walked directly up to Pete and shook his hand. “You’re Pete Reynold, aren’t you? The reporter?”
Pete wasn’t sure how to respond. First, he didn’t think anyone here knew- or cared- that he was a reporter. Second, this man seemed different from all the others he’d seen here.
The man standing before him was around thirty, with dark hair parted on the side. He was clean shaven and wore a striped polo shirt, khakis and loafers. This was the first person he’d seen since arriving that wasn’t dressed in some type of uniform.
“It’s okay,” the man continued. “They all know you’re a reporter. These dudes were freaking out when you first got here.”
Pete opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. He still wasn’t sure how to read this situation.
“Oh, where are my manners?” The man continued talking, seemingly amused by Pete’s silence. “My name’s Ben Tomlinson. You’ll probably want to remember that for your article.”
The word ‘remember’ was said with a touch of sarcasm. Pate finally found his voice. “If I have found my story, I won’t remember any of this, will I?” Pete still hasn’t figured out what had caused the men who had come here to lose their memories.
Ben chuckled. “All in good time. First, I thought you might want a more pleasant place to sleep.”
“You mean... you’re letting me leave?”
“Leave this dreary waiting room, yes. You see, my grandfather owns this building and all the land around it. I have my own living space in the back. I thought you might be more comfortable there. Unless you want to stay here. I heard we have three off duty sheriffs from Tennessee coming later.”
Pete didn’t know if this was a trap or a blessing. But he knew he’d rather sleep just about anywhere other than the wooden bench.
But Pete also worried about the other two unwitting guests of this place that he’d met. “What about Alex? And Austin?l
“Austin just needed a place to cool down. Once he’s settled in, they’ll have their fun and then he will be returned to his home. And Alex is already on his way home. He served his time.”
Pete wasn’t sure who to trust at this point. But he didn’t seem to have any alternative than to take Ben at his word.
Ben started walking back in the direction he’d come. Pete hesitated.
With his back to Pete, Ben said, “even if you make it out the door, you’ll never find your way through the woods on your own.”
Reluctantly, Pete followed behind Ben.
Ben walked up and down several corridors and climbed a couple of staircases until he passed through a large, ornate door into his living space.
Pete couldn’t believe his eyes. He was standing in the largest, grandest living room he’d ever seen. Oriental rugs covered the hardwood floors. The furniture was exquisite and a baby grand piano sat in the corner.
Ben smiled. “Not bad, huh?”
Pete looked around. “I’ll admit, it’s not what I expected.”
Ben gestured toward a hallway. “You must be exhausted. The guest room is this way.” Pete headed in the direction indicated.
“I’ll be right there,” Ben called after him. He walked over to a closet, reached in, and grabbed a duffel bag.
Ben headed after Pete, carrying the duffel bag.
After awhile, Pete couldn’t hear anything at all out in the hallways. He wondered where they had taken Austin.
Out of boredom, he tried straining against the ropes that held him to the wooden bench. As usual, they had been tied so expertly that there was no way to free himself. He figured he would have to wait for someone to come release him.
His mind wandering, he soon fell asleep. When he awoke, he was surprised to find himself completely untied from the bench. There was no sign of the ropes that had been used on him. Even more surprising, the door to his room was open.
He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he take the opportunity to try to escape? Or was this some kind of trap?
He cautiously stepped into the doorway and looked down the hallway in both directions. He remembered the door he he had made it to before, only to find it locked. And he didn’t care to feel the taser again.
Suddenly a man appeared from another door down the hall. He walked directly up to Pete and shook his hand. “You’re Pete Reynold, aren’t you? The reporter?”
Pete wasn’t sure how to respond. First, he didn’t think anyone here knew- or cared- that he was a reporter. Second, this man seemed different from all the others he’d seen here.
The man standing before him was around thirty, with dark hair parted on the side. He was clean shaven and wore a striped polo shirt, khakis and loafers. This was the first person he’d seen since arriving that wasn’t dressed in some type of uniform.
“It’s okay,” the man continued. “They all know you’re a reporter. These dudes were freaking out when you first got here.”
Pete opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. He still wasn’t sure how to read this situation.
“Oh, where are my manners?” The man continued talking, seemingly amused by Pete’s silence. “My name’s Ben Tomlinson. You’ll probably want to remember that for your article.”
The word ‘remember’ was said with a touch of sarcasm. Pate finally found his voice. “If I have found my story, I won’t remember any of this, will I?” Pete still hasn’t figured out what had caused the men who had come here to lose their memories.
Ben chuckled. “All in good time. First, I thought you might want a more pleasant place to sleep.”
“You mean... you’re letting me leave?”
“Leave this dreary waiting room, yes. You see, my grandfather owns this building and all the land around it. I have my own living space in the back. I thought you might be more comfortable there. Unless you want to stay here. I heard we have three off duty sheriffs from Tennessee coming later.”
Pete didn’t know if this was a trap or a blessing. But he knew he’d rather sleep just about anywhere other than the wooden bench.
But Pete also worried about the other two unwitting guests of this place that he’d met. “What about Alex? And Austin?l
“Austin just needed a place to cool down. Once he’s settled in, they’ll have their fun and then he will be returned to his home. And Alex is already on his way home. He served his time.”
Pete wasn’t sure who to trust at this point. But he didn’t seem to have any alternative than to take Ben at his word.
Ben started walking back in the direction he’d come. Pete hesitated.
With his back to Pete, Ben said, “even if you make it out the door, you’ll never find your way through the woods on your own.”
Reluctantly, Pete followed behind Ben.
Ben walked up and down several corridors and climbed a couple of staircases until he passed through a large, ornate door into his living space.
Pete couldn’t believe his eyes. He was standing in the largest, grandest living room he’d ever seen. Oriental rugs covered the hardwood floors. The furniture was exquisite and a baby grand piano sat in the corner.
Ben smiled. “Not bad, huh?”
Pete looked around. “I’ll admit, it’s not what I expected.”
Ben gestured toward a hallway. “You must be exhausted. The guest room is this way.” Pete headed in the direction indicated.
“I’ll be right there,” Ben called after him. He walked over to a closet, reached in, and grabbed a duffel bag.
Ben headed after Pete, carrying the duffel bag.
Part 13
Pete entered the room at the end of the hallway, as indicated. He found himself in a huge bedroom with antique furniture and a large bed, and an oversized window. Through it, Pete saw the woods surrounding this complex. Pete suddenly realized he had no idea how many days had passed since he’d come here. But he could see the moon high in the sky and saw that it was now nighttime.
Ben stood in the doorway. “There’s a bathroom thru there. I’d imagine you’d like a shower. And I left a change of clothes in there for you. I’m sure you’d like to get out of the clothes you’ve been wearing for over a week.”
Logically, Pete knew there was no reason to trust Ben. But due to a combination of exhaustion and Ben’s easygoing manner, Pete decided there was no harm in taking him out on the offer.
After one of the longest showers of his life, Pete slipped on the shorts and tshirt that had been left for him. He was beginning to feel like his old self.
When he returned to the bedroom, he saw Ben standing near the bed, holding a black duffel bag.
“Feel better?” Ben asked, with genuine concern.
“Yes, actually. Thank you for all this.”
Smiling, reached into the black duffel bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Pete frowned. He had convinced himself he was past that part of this experience but now he realized this has been part of the experience all along.
“Do we really have to do this?” Pete asked, even though he knew the answer.
“You’re still a prisoner here. Lay down on the bed, please.” Pete was a little more comfortable with Ben than he’d been with anyone else here. He knew he didn’t want to go back down to the holding room with the wooden benches, so he begrudgingly complied.
Once Pete was in position, Ben locked the handcuff around Pete’s wrist, pulled his arm toward the headboard, and locked the other end to one of the slats in the headboard. He repeated this action on Pete’s other wrist. Then he moved to the bottom of the bed and handcuffed Pete’s ankles to the footboard.
Pete was secure and wasn’t going anywhere. He figured Ben would leave him like this but he was wrong.
Ben produced several pieces of rope from the bag and began tying them to Pete’s arms and legs. He stretched the ropes taught and tied them to the bed frame at various points.
When he was satisfied with his work, he smiled down at Pete, who now couldn’t move from his spreadeagle position.
“One more thing,” Ben announced cheerily as he reached once more into the duffle bag. The item he produced made Pete gulp. It was a strip of leather with a very large ball in the middle.
“Prisoners are not allowed to speak,” Ben said in a singsong voice as he forced the ball into Pete’s mouth. He buckled the straps snuggly behind Pete’s head.
It had happened so quickly Pete hadn’t had time to process what was happening. Now he was tied down to the bed and firmly ballgagged.
Ben gave Pete’s foot a little wiggle. “Sleep tight,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Ben turned out the light and left the room.
Pete entered the room at the end of the hallway, as indicated. He found himself in a huge bedroom with antique furniture and a large bed, and an oversized window. Through it, Pete saw the woods surrounding this complex. Pete suddenly realized he had no idea how many days had passed since he’d come here. But he could see the moon high in the sky and saw that it was now nighttime.
Ben stood in the doorway. “There’s a bathroom thru there. I’d imagine you’d like a shower. And I left a change of clothes in there for you. I’m sure you’d like to get out of the clothes you’ve been wearing for over a week.”
Logically, Pete knew there was no reason to trust Ben. But due to a combination of exhaustion and Ben’s easygoing manner, Pete decided there was no harm in taking him out on the offer.
After one of the longest showers of his life, Pete slipped on the shorts and tshirt that had been left for him. He was beginning to feel like his old self.
When he returned to the bedroom, he saw Ben standing near the bed, holding a black duffel bag.
“Feel better?” Ben asked, with genuine concern.
“Yes, actually. Thank you for all this.”
Smiling, reached into the black duffel bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Pete frowned. He had convinced himself he was past that part of this experience but now he realized this has been part of the experience all along.
“Do we really have to do this?” Pete asked, even though he knew the answer.
“You’re still a prisoner here. Lay down on the bed, please.” Pete was a little more comfortable with Ben than he’d been with anyone else here. He knew he didn’t want to go back down to the holding room with the wooden benches, so he begrudgingly complied.
Once Pete was in position, Ben locked the handcuff around Pete’s wrist, pulled his arm toward the headboard, and locked the other end to one of the slats in the headboard. He repeated this action on Pete’s other wrist. Then he moved to the bottom of the bed and handcuffed Pete’s ankles to the footboard.
Pete was secure and wasn’t going anywhere. He figured Ben would leave him like this but he was wrong.
Ben produced several pieces of rope from the bag and began tying them to Pete’s arms and legs. He stretched the ropes taught and tied them to the bed frame at various points.
When he was satisfied with his work, he smiled down at Pete, who now couldn’t move from his spreadeagle position.
“One more thing,” Ben announced cheerily as he reached once more into the duffle bag. The item he produced made Pete gulp. It was a strip of leather with a very large ball in the middle.
“Prisoners are not allowed to speak,” Ben said in a singsong voice as he forced the ball into Pete’s mouth. He buckled the straps snuggly behind Pete’s head.
It had happened so quickly Pete hadn’t had time to process what was happening. Now he was tied down to the bed and firmly ballgagged.
Ben gave Pete’s foot a little wiggle. “Sleep tight,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Ben turned out the light and left the room.