CYOA Page 107
Sep. 13th, 2013 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lumy12True to your word, you don't scream when the dude removes your gag. You briefly consider biting down hard on his fingers, but what good would it do? You're tied to a chair. And you want to appeal to this man's... sense of humanity or whatever.
"Thanks." You even manage a tiny grateful smile. "That thing is filthy."
The man stands a few feet away from you, regarding you with his arms crossed. "It's all we got, kid. And it goes back in when you've said whatever you have to say."
I'm not a kid, you mutter to yourself, but you're not sure if it's wise to point that out. Don't most people go easier on kids than adults? "Could I have some water? Please?"
Instead of answering, he shoves the cloth back in your mouth, ignoring your muffled protests, and leaves the room. That simple request pissed him off?! -But he leaves the door open, and snippets of the conversation below drift up to you. When you hear "don't give her too much, we don't want a mess," you realize he simply went to fetch you some water.
He returns with a thermos, which he holds up to your mouth after un-gagging you. You take a couple greedy slurps before he pulls it back. "Thank you. So... as long as I keep talking, you won't put that back in my mouth?" You give him what you consider to be your most disarming smile -- one that works on Joel 99% of the time. A smile that says yes, you kidnapped me, but hey, let's make the best of it -- we can be BUDDIES, see? It's all good...
It makes him snort, which you decide to take as a good sign.
"I just peed before you took me, you know," you tell him. "You prob'ly know that? So I'm good for the next... I dunno... how long am I going to be tied up, anyway?"
He shrugs. "Not long."
...Not helpful. "Um... so like, an hour? A few hours?"
"A few hours. At least. We'll be rid of you when the truck gets here."
...'The truck'? You don't like the sound of that. How will Joel ever find you?! "Okay... a truck. To take me to... where?"
"Don't know, don't care. 'Long as we get paid."
"...Paid how?"
"With shit we need. What do you care? You just going to keep asking questions so I don't put that back in?" He nods at the gag.
"Maybe." Another charming smile... the guy seems immune to them so far, though. You change tactics, adopting a more sober expression. "Um... do you know what they're going to do with me? The truck people?"
"No. Don't know, don't care," he repeats all slow-like, as if you didn't understand the words the first time.
"Well... it's important to me. Do you... have any idea? At all?"
He just looks at you a moment, then offers you the thermos again. You take another couple of gulps, then turn to him with big pleading eyes. "Could you maybe find out? Ask the guy in charge? Please... are they going to..."
The guy sighs. "Enough talking. Sorry, kid." He stuffs the dirty cloth (a bandana, you think) back in your mouth. "I'll bring you some food later."
He shuts the door, and you hear the click of a lock.
That went well, you grumble to yourself. You didn't ask about Joel... partly because you were scared of the answer, partly because... maybe they don't even know that you weren't alone? You don't want to alert them to Joel's existence if they're unaware. It seems unlikely that they don't know, though; they planned that perfectly. What are the odds that they would just happen to stumble upon you out there in the woods alone for those few minutes? Joel did have that creepy someone-is-following-us feeling before.
Okay... but you're still terrified of what they might tell you if you ask. And who's to say they would even tell you the truth? They could tell you he's dead so maybe you give up hope, fall into despair, and don't give them any trouble... they could tell you he's alive so maybe you just sit there waiting to be rescued and don't give them any trouble... or they could just plain enjoy fucking with you. Hell, even what the guy did tell you could be lies. You don't think he was lying, though. He didn't give you many details.
What do the truck people want with me? Were they listening to me and Joel... did we say anything that might make them think-- wait. I didn't say 'immune,' did I? With the berries... I don't think I did. Even if I did, we weren't talking about my ~condition.~ And Joel's afraid that people who find out about me might want to kill me, not KIDNAP me.
...SO WHAT DO THEY WANT?!?!
You hope you don't find out firsthand. And it's better to spend your time thinking of how to get out of this than speculating what might become of you if you don't.
You struggle to free yourself, but naturally, they didn't tie you up loosely. You wriggle your hands, arms, legs, feet... nothing gives. You wish you could tell if your switchblade is still in your pocket or not. If it's still there, maybe you'll be able to access it when the guy brings up your food. You've earned his trust a little by not screaming; hopefully that means he'll undo your hands so you can feed yourself. And you hope that their concern over you screaming means they're worried about Joel finding you.
One thought keeps niggling at you, though: why would they leave Joel alive? Maybe they don't need to deliver him to this other entity, but why risk having to deal with him coming after you?
Don't think about that, you command yourself. Think about getting out.
You do... and you devise a plan. If you can't smooth talk the captor who brings you food into helping you, you know what you're going to do.
The pitter-pattering of the afternoon rain on the roof is comfortingly familiar. It lulls you into not thinking much at all -- but you snap right out of it when you hear the footsteps outside the door... the door opening... time to be "on" again!
It's a different guy this time. ...Is that good or bad? He doesn't look much different from the other guy, though. No kinder, no meaner. If you can even judge such things from appearances...
He warns you to be quiet when he removes the bandana from your mouth. Then he spears a piece of meat from... some kind of round, bowl-like container, not a plate... and offers the forkful to you. "Eat."
You eye it skeptically. "What is it?"
"Just eat it."
"Um... can you untie my hands? -Please," you barely remember to add.
"Why? So you can stab me with this fork?" He laughs at this.
"Are you afraid of that? Seriously? Getting stabbed by a little girl. With a fork." You snort derisively.
"Eat," he repeats, nonplussed.
You take a bite, and the whole slab comes off the fork -- way too much to fit in your mouth. You start chewing slowly. It's a bit tough... room temperature... elk, tastes like. It's probably okay; why would they poison you before handing you off?
The guy sets the bowl in your lap, just in time for the meat hanging from your mouth to fall into it as your teeth sever off the bite. "Good going," the guy sneers.
"If you would just untie me," you mutter, still chewing the meat from the big-ass bite.
He doesn't seem too keen to keep feeding you... and, to your delight, he does go around behind you and starts undoing the knots binding your hands! "You eat with your hands, though," he warns.
"Okay! Thanks!" you say happily, like he's doing you a huge favor (which, in fact, he might be...). You stretch your arms, roll your wrists, flex your fingers--
"But you have to fucking eat," he snaps. "You've got five minutes."
You pick up the fallen piece with your left hand and bite off a large chunk, resting your right hand oh-so-casually on your pants: it's there! Thank you Jesus!
But you still have to get it out of your pocket without the guy noticing. And Plan A is still to get the guy to let you go...
...yeah, not going to happen. You think the other guy was actually nicer.
It doesn't look like the guy brought you anything to drink. You cough a little after swallowing that bite. "Can I please have some water?"
"You already had some."
"Yeah, but... you know. To wash this down?"
"Shut up and eat." He stands there, staring at you, twirling the fork idly.
Okay, so he's not going to leave the room... and his staring is giving you the creeps. What else can I do here? You glance to your right -- at the window. Tear off another piece with your teeth, then glance again... or, a little more than glance: you let your gaze linger a little too long to be casual.
"The fuck you lookin' at?" The guy glowers at you.
"Nothing," you say quickly. Too quickly, hopefully...
He looks at the window for a few seconds. "I don't see anything." But he sounds unsure. Suspicious...
"Right! Right -- no one's out there." You hope you sound nervous or anxious. "It was just... lightning!" Which, of course, the guy would have seen for himself, if that were true -- plus, it's stopped raining now.
Yes! He walks over to the window to see for himself. You deftly slide your switchblade out of your pocket, release the blade, and stick it beneath you, out of sight. If only my legs weren't tied! It would be so easy to pounce on him right now. "I told you there's no one there!" you say loudly -- loudly enough to mask any little noise you may have just made.
The man turns back to you, taking in your hopeful-but-anxious expression, and strides to the doorway. "Hey! Ned!" He steps into the hallway. "Ned!"
You can't help thinking that 'Ned' sounds like too friendly a name for a kidnapper.
"What?" a voice calls from below.
"Do a lap around the house -- we might have company." He returns to his creepy standing-and-staring position, right in front of you.
"Oh, um... I thought you were alone here," you say casually. Conversationally, even. "Right now, I mean. I heard... like... three or four of you earlier, but..."
"It's me and Ned right now. You think it matters? Think you can take down both of us while tied to this chair, huh?" he taunts.
You just shove more meat in your mouth. I only have to take down YOU if Ned just went outside...
"Time's up." The guy snatches the bowl out of your lap. It hasn't been five minutes yet, but you don't complain: the sooner you put your plan into motion, the better!
If your plan is to knife the guy when he ventures close enough (do you think you can grab your knife in time, without him intercepting your arm?), turn to page 185.
If your plan is to use the knife to untie yourself once he leaves (do you think you can reach the blade under your butt and manipulate it successfully?), turn to page 188.
Carlos
Date: 2020-06-03 10:43 pm (UTC)Re: Carlos
Date: 2020-06-04 02:07 am (UTC)