Wrong time, wrong place (MM/FM)

[dream713]

Part one.

A trip into nature can be dangerous. I am not talking about wild animals, against which I always carry loud crackers. There are other, more dangerous animals. Also, if you are going for a walk with your girlfriend in a national park, it is best not to stray from the beaten (or even paved) trails. Danger can lurk even within fifty metres of the park's main avenue.

Otherwise you might end up like us in a half-built house. My arms were raised above my head and tied tightly with a hemp rope, the other end of which was thrown over a thick wooden beam and tied tightly. My mouth was full of dirty rags. My hips and ankles were tied with the same rough rope, which I could feel through my jeans.

Maria's situation was much worse. The rope pulling her arms to the beam was too short for a short girl of just over five feet and one inch. She was forced to stand on her toes. The thin tights under her short skirt did nothing to protect her legs from the hard rope. I could see the pain in her blue eyes, but there was nothing I could do as my fingers were numb for the first few hours. The girl's beautiful blonde hair was dishevelled and her snow-white blouse was stained.

You could say I was a pessimist. I was confident that no one would find us. I had a good idea of how the search would go. First, volunteers would search the forest, then the police would send out an APB to all the posts, then two "missing person" messages would appear in social media groups: one with my photo and one with Maria's. This will not help, so the police will ask our relatives to identify each unidentified body. The only hope is that someone saw the moment of our abduction.

Two things pleased me. The first was that the guards hid their faces, which meant they were not going to kill us. They came twice a day, took us to the toilet and fed us, but I could not escape because all the procedures took turns. On the first day I tried to attack my escort, but I'm no match for a man armed with an M4A1. From that moment on, the machine-gunner always kept some distance.

I still berated myself for my inattention. We walked through the national park. After an hour of walking along the paved paths, we decided to take a walk in the wilder areas. We stopped near an abandoned hut, like a "hunting lodge", and after making sure no one was around, we started kissing. Oh, it is wonderful when you hug a lovely girl. We missed the moment when a tall, burly man with a respirator came out of the lodge. He saw us and came closer. He distracted us by talking, so we did not notice that two men in balaclavas had sneaked up behind us. One of them put the barrel of an M4A1 to the back of my head and the other pushed Maria towards the hut with his pistol.

The man in the respirator ordered us to go into the hut and not to make any noise. We were forced to obey. Inside, they made us sit on a hard bench and forced us to empty our pockets. I hug the shivering girl and stare intently at the robbers, trying to figure out what they want from us. They were quietly discussing something until one of them remembered us.

"Lady and gentlemen, please lie face down on the floor," he said mockingly.

I looked at him angrily, but he pointed the gun in our direction. I sighed and dropped to the floor. Maria was on the floor to my left. I turned my head and looked into her frightened blue eyes. I had failed to protect her. I guessed the robbers' next move, but not their motives. Maria and I have no rich relatives to demand a ransom.

"Gentlemen, let us go. We didn't see anything!"

"Yes. You didn't see anything," the robber nodded in agreement. He climbed on top of me and pinned me down with his weight. He grabbed my wrists and put my hands behind my back.

"We don't have any money. Whatever was in your pockets, take it! Just let us go!"

"We'll take it and let you go," he nodded as he tied a rope around my wrists.

"If you want a hostage, that's enough for me! Please, let the girl mmmmmphhhhh," I did not finish my speech as he stuffed a rag into my mouth. He wrapped two layers of tape around my head. Maria squeezed her eyes shut in horror and there was nothing I could do to help her. I was completely helpless.

"No, I'll stay with him," Maria whispered and I groaned in despair.

"You see, my friend? She wants to stay with you," man laughed.

When the man had finished with me, he began to do the same thing to Maria. Obviously he wanted to have some fun. He paid a lot of attention to my girlfriend. He tied me up and gagged me very quickly, but with Maria he took his time. He grabbed her wrists with his left hand and began running the index finger of his right hand up and down her spine. The girl jerked, screaming in surprise, but he used his free hand to press her head to the floor.

"MMMMMMPHHHH!!!" she shouted.

"Hold still, darling. I'm not going to hurt you," he laughed as he tied her hands behind her back. He then gagged her with a rag, but did not tape her up.

"What beautiful hair you have," he said, running his hands over her strands, "such a shame to ruin it!"

"Mower, you old pervert. Finish with the girl and come over here, we're not finished yet," one of his companions scolded.

"Sorry darling, it's just business," he laughed and wrapped a long cloth around Maria's head. He thought for a while and then tied our legs together so we could not escape. It was so painful.

"Mmmmmph!" we moaned together.

The men continued their discussion, but no matter how hard I tried to listen, I understood nothing. Maria came over and pressed her cheek against my shoulder. I do not know how long we lay there, time passed very slowly, but it was already dark outside the window.

"It's time," said the man in the respirator, getting up, "where's the chloroform?"

"There it is, in the jar, and what do you need it for?" pointed Mower somewhere.

"You can't lead them, and you can't drag them unconscious," the gang leader explained.

"Ah! I'll make it quick," Mower rejoiced.

"Mmmmmph!" I groaned as he took the bottle of clear liquid.

I tried to twitch as a strong hand clamped over my nose and mouth with a cloth soaked in a liquid with a sweet taste and smell. The frightened eyes of my bound and gagged girlfriend were the last thing I saw before I was plunged into darkness.


======

This is a rather old story, first published in 2020. If you see any errors in the text, please let me know.

[dream713]

***
So we found ourselves in an abandoned village in an unknown part of the world. I could see the picturesque ruins through the small window on my right, and the window behind Maria's back looked out on the dilapidated barn where the jailers took us every day. We spent just over a week here. During that time we did not feel the presence of a single person other than our jailers. As the sun set, I knew they would soon come for us.
As I expected, after a while I heard the distinct crunching of branches in the distance, and about five minutes later two men in balaclavas came into the hut. One of them had an M4A1 slung over his shoulder and the other had a Beretta 92 in an open holster.
"Well, weren't you bored?" laughed the man with the M4.
"Mmmmmh!" Maria replied. The girl looked completely exhausted. I wasn't surprised when she fell to the floor like a sack of rags when her hands were untied.
"What's the matter with her?" asked the man with the Beretta, frightened.
"Ymmphh bhutmhhds, ymphh mmmph thph gmmmph," I groaned through my gag.
"What did you say?" the machine-gunner reluctantly approached me. I repeated my words, then he grimaced and pulled out my gag.
I licked my parched lips and tried to wet my throat with saliva. The man stuck a plastic water bottle between my teeth. I emptied the bottle quickly. I had not even realised how thirsty I was.
"Bastards, you are mocking the girl," I panted, "why did you shorten the rope this morning? Try standing on your toes all day!"
"I'm sorry, darling, we didn't mean it," the gunman sighed and stepped aside.

"Please, give me a drink," Maria gasped pleadingly. The gunman opened the bottle and handed it to her. After she drank, she lay on the floor with her arms and legs spread. I wanted to get free myself, to walk around, but I was patient. It was more important for Maria to get her circulation back and regain some strength.
It was ten minutes before she could get up. The guard with the rifle helped Maria to walk, as she would not have been able to do so on her own. I heard the grass rustle near the ruined barn. They were gone for ten minutes and then they returned. Maria looked paler than usual. She sank helplessly to the floor and the gunman placed a container of food, a piece of bread and a small bottle of water in front of her. Maria picked up a plastic spoon and began to eat. She kept looking at me guiltily. Silly, it's not like I blame her for anything.
"Maria, it's OK," I tried to cheer her up, "rest while you can!"
"Valentin..." the girl was clearly about to cry.
"Please don't waste time. We still have two miles to drag back through the forest! Your friend needs a walk too," the gunman muttered reluctantly.
Strangely enough, Maria nodded at the words and wolfed down the cutlet with double zeal.
My dinner was the same as Maria's. As we walked to the barn, the jailers left the girl sitting on the floor, her legs slightly intertwined to prevent her from escaping. They knew perfectly well that she could not escape. I sat down to eat next to my friend, her cheek resting on my shoulder. No matter how I tried to stall, the food was running out and the guards were losing patience.
"Guys, maybe we shouldn't take a break. We're exhausted!" I sighed.
"What do you suggest?"
"I don't even know," I was confused, "at least sit back to back, or even hogtie..."
"It's a good idea, but if you run away or kill yourself... We can't do that, we have families of our own," the one with the Beretta blurted out.
"Is there anything we can do?" I asked.
"I don't think so. Please be patient for another two weeks. And then, after they leave town, we'll let you go!"
"Why are we even here?"
"I don't know, we've got to go," grumbled the man with the M4.
They hung us up again, although this time they lowered Maria's rope a little to make it easier for her.
I thought I was hallucinating when I heard the sound of a car engine. I looked at Maria and she nodded, confirming that she had heard it too. My heart pounded harder, this was our chance. I tried to scream, but only a muffled moan escaped through the gag. Maria tried to scream too, but to no avail. We even tried jumping! The car turned into the road next to ours. I knew it was an impasse, so there was still hope. I looked out the window, through the gaps in the rubble, and saw a grey SUV. It was obviously not the police.
The people who had come here had unloaded. I heard women laughing and realised they were tourists. It sounded like some company had decided to have a picnic in an abandoned village. They couldn't hear us, and besides, they were minding their own business. On the one hand, I was glad they had come, it was our chance to escape, but on the other hand, what would happen if the jailers came back? Would they not show themselves to the tourists or would they attack them? You could see in Maria's face that she was thinking along the same lines. The car started and drove off somewhere. I realised that our tourists had gone somewhere, but not all of them. I could still hear voices from where they had been. One of the girls was calling for a man called Armando.
When the voices stopped, I was terribly disappointed. I had hoped they would find us and rescue us. My dreams seemed to have shattered the cast-iron ass of reality. I looked at Maria; she was looking down at her feet.
Half an hour later, the porch creaked and we heard a low scolding. I could barely make out the words. It sounded like a girl talking.
"Wind-One, this is Wind-Three, checking sector Bravo-Four, clear, over!"

I jumped around a bit to get her attention. It was hard to jump without shoes, but we got the result.
"Let me check," the girl said over the radio, bursting into the room with an UZI submachine gun in her hand. The girl hid her face under a mask, but there were blonde strands sticking out from underneath, and her figure was very feminine. Special forces uniform. Could it be the police?
"Wind-One, this is Wind-Three, there are two oranges in square Bravo-Five. Over," she murmured quietly into the microphone at her ear, looking at us and listening for something.
"What do you mean, no oranges today? Who's in Bravo Five?" she asked, raising her voice.
I suddenly realised who these campers were. They were definitely Strikeball players! Almost Special Forces uniforms, though they fit the girl like a glove, tailored exactly to her figure, but the chevron had a patch in the shape of a washing kitten. Her weapon was a ball-shooter.
"Guys, time out!" came a man's voice from outside.
The floor creaked and a tall man with an AS Val on his back entered the room. He looked very surprised to see us.
"I told you, two oranges," the girl said, revealing her rather pretty face.
"Wind, Rock, general assembly in Bravo Five, we have a force majeure," he radioed and went outside. While he was gone, a whole squad of Special Forces entered the room with their strike ball weapons. One of the girls with red hair and unnatural green eyes came over to me and started pulling out the gag.
"What are you standing around for?" she asked, looking back at her comrades, "this isn't a BDSM session and they really need help!"
"We don't forget that you're the BDSM expert," the very tall and broad-shouldered man grinned. The girl threw the rag she had taken from my mouth at him.
"You're a fool, I'm not joking now!" the red-haired girl got angry and pulled a jackknife out of her pocket. She quickly cut the rope holding me down.
As we were released, the first man (call sign Wind-One) came back into the room with an open laptop. On the screen of the monitor were our pictures with the caption "Missing Persons".
"Valentin Michaels and Maria Kennett?" he asked, giving our full names. I looked at him carefully. He looked relaxed, but his brown eyes were on fire. I could almost physically feel his piercing gaze. The feeling was terrifying, so I took a deep breath and nodded.
"Yes!"
"I hope we haven't ruined a romantic evening with our intervention?" he laughed. My tension vanished instantly.
"It was ruined a week and a half ago. I would like to point out that our jailers should be arriving soon and I don't know how they will react to you."
"Which side are they coming from?" he asked.
"I think ... over there," Maria pointed roughly in that direction.
"The three of us will stay behind to set up an ambush. The rest of us will take the oranges into town," he ordered.
"I don't understand, who put you in charge?" the green-eyed girl asked, squinting.
"I did. And you drive," he ordered, leaving the cabin and throwing the keys to the girl.
"Do you think he'll get too angry if we hit a fence on the way?" she asked me, laughing.
Our rescuers took us to the hospital, where family and friends rushed to meet us. The green-eyed girl, who never introduced herself, asked us not to tell anyone they had rescued us. According to the legend, we escaped on our own and caught a hitch. It was not difficult for us, so we agreed, although we did not really understand the reasons for such secrecy. Later, I was curious: which of the men was Armando? The dangerous one with the laptop, the big joker, or the inconspicuous skinny one lurking in the shadows? But there was no one to ask. The girl with the green eyes (I'm sure they were contact lenses with a very bright tint) waved her red hair and walked proudly away. I never saw their company again.
An investigator, Police Major Parus, came to see us in hospital. He listened carefully, took down our statements, made a phone call and then left. The doctors kept us in hospital for a short time and discharged us the next morning, prescribing an ointment to heal our hands and feet. A week and a half later, Parus called us into his office.
The director of a large jewellery store was sitting in his office. He shook my hand for a long time and thanked me profusely for helping the police prevent a serious robbery. It turned out that our jailers had a guilty conscience and went to the police with a confession. It was probably not without a heart-to-heart talk with those strikeballers.

***
It has been a year since we were rescued. A month after the rescue, Maria and I started living together, and I'm going to propose to her. Why? Besides, the manager of the jewellery store gave me a huge discount when I went to buy the ring.
I decided to propose in a special place, the place where the most important adventure of our lives took place. Maria had her doubts, but I persuaded her that we should take a drive there. I had a vague recollection of the road from the last time, so when I decided to go on this little expedition I spent many hours looking at satellite maps of the proposed area. I managed to find it, an abandoned village near a river.
We piled into an old Land Rover I had borrowed from a friend for a few days and set off. We stopped at a crossroads and decided to walk the rest of the way. I helped Maria out of the car and saw a raven sitting on the remains of the roof. I wanted to take Maria inside and propose to her, but something stopped me at the last moment.
I asked her to wait on the veranda and went inside. As I walked down the small hallway, I opened the door and gasped. My hair stood on end and goose bumps ran down my back.
There were two plastic skeletons in the middle of the room, hanging by their arms on ropes. A man and a woman. They were dressed exactly as we had been in captivity. Even the hole in the man's jeans was in the same place as mine. With a fist of will I left the room and shut the door behind me. What was this all about?
I went outside.
"What's out there?" asked Maria.
"There's a collapsed ceiling, it's very, very dangerous. You'd better not go there. Do you know why I invited you here?" I tried to distance myself from what I was seeing.
"I guess," Maria giggled.
"You guessed right," I smiled and got down on one knee. Just then the crow cawed and flew into the air. I looked at the flying harbinger of bad things to come. Not today! The past is the past and the future will be fine.

[elea62]

Good story