AUTUMN x ZOMBiiE

The man stood silently, his eyes clung to his computer screen. He had just received a message saying that the company had to get rid of 100 employees, and that his services were no longer necessary. For the last 10 years of his life he had been working with the company. They took him right out of highschool and he'd been working there, loyally ever since, and just like that it was ended. And just the day before his boss had told him he was in line for a promotion. The e-mail stuck in his mind as one of his friend dropped a box down on his desk. "So, you're gone too?" asked the man who had been holding the box full of papers and pictures. Dylan's eyes still glued to the screen, he could barely believe it. That fat old man had lied right to his face. He would get even, somehow he knew he would get even with that old man. Ignoring the friend that had began talking to him, Dylan grabbed his coat and flung it on and headed out the door and out of the building in a hurry. The sun hung high in the sky that day as he left the office building. He sat quietly in his car, watching as that fat fucker pulled in, driving right past him and flashing him a look. That's when he knew what he would do, his daughter was sitting in the back seat. So innocent, he was so proud of her. He would turn his life upside down, he would ruin the fat man's daughter.

Rachel was Daddy's little princess. The only child of the billionaire and his once trophy wife, she had been lavished with the finest luxuries since birth. Daddy sent her to the best private school money could buy where she had received the best education possible. Dartmouth, Yale, and Princeton were looking to enroll the debutant in the fall, though she couldn't decide which school she wanted to attend. Daddy said he didn't care how much any of them cost as long as his little angel had the best of everything.

When she turned sixteen, he bought her a pretty red Porsche. She knew she was envied by everyone, which only added to the man's pride. Yes, Rachel certainly meant the entire world to him.

Rachel's speeding problem had already caused a need for a new set of tires. So the business man had cleared his schedule so that he could take his daughter to school. His wife was off in Hawaii for a solo vacation, which she took often. He didn't mind, though, as it meant he could have more time with his little jewel. However, he felt guilty that she always left Rachel without much motherly attention.

When he picked her up from school, he took her to a jewelry store. He had a gold chain with a heart pendant made for her, the front side flashing her name across it. The side that was worn closest to her skin had an engraving of "Daddy's Little Girl". She had seemed pleased with it and was already wearing it, the gold glittering in the fading sunlight.

When the pulled in, Rachel jumped out of the car. She was average in stature, 5' 4" of well-toned body. Though the modest school uniform of a khaki skirt, white collared blouse, and blue blazer covered most of her frame, years of dancing still managed to show through in her grace and poise. He though she resembled her mother so much, her dark blond hair falling a few inches past her shoulders in a straight sheet. Her bright eyes resembled emeralds, standing out brightly against her sun-kissed skin. The fat man locked the car before he walked around to take her bag from her. He opened the door and the two went inside the house.

It was a slow, lonely drive back to the man's apartment where he lived alone. He had recently broken up with his girlfriend who he had been with for the last 3 years of his life. He still wasn't even sure why they had broken up, it was something about him spending too much time at work. Thinking of this only made him even more angered. He sat outside in his car for a few minutes after parking in the small lot behind his crummy apartment, he looked around slowly. Giving a loud sigh, he pulled himself out of the car and stood still, looking out around the lot. Finally, pulling himself away he locked the car and made his way inside. The hallways were dark, but smelled nice. One of his neighbors was a cook, and was always cooking and the smells filled up the apartment. If it wasn't for that man, this place would probably be a total dump and smell like shit. Dylan's apartment was on the top floor and as he pushed open the small wooden door, he peeked into his little apartment.

It wasn't even that bad of a place inside, it was cramped and a little messy but it wasn't bad. It was a two-bedroom apartment, where the kitchen and living room were attached, and separated by the carpet which cut off and continued on as tiles into the kitchen. The apartment had fairly new furniture was kept relatively clean. Although lately he hasn't felt well, and hasn't felt like keeping a clean apartment, he did anyways. With a faint sigh, the man fell down onto his couch. Across the room from him, there was a large glass door which lead out to the balcony, it didn't have the greatest view though, just the city and some buildings. He kept it covered with shades most of the time. As he flicked on the tv, there was a story on the news about the company having to let go of a few of the jobs, it talked about the reasons behind it, but mentioned nothing about how the employees felt, or what he had set up for them, or the fact that he just kicked them out on their ass.

The house was enormous, three full stories towering over any neighboring homes. It looked magnificent with its rose colored bricks and light gray stones, resembling more of a modest castle than an ordinary home. The interior matched its exterior in luxury, rich furniture, expensive art, and the latest high-end technology covering nearly every inch.

As could be expected of someone with such a busy career path and an abundance of money, Mr. Maxon had a staff position for nearly every service available: his lawn was well-maintained by a gardener and his assistant, the home was cleaned by two maids three times per week, a personal shopper kept the refrigerator stocked and picked up other purchases, an assistant ran his personal errands, and a chef cooked their meals on most nights.

Upon entering the house, the wafting of Italian food filled the air. For the most part, they ate in silence, Mr. Maxon devouring his food quickly while Rachel took slow, dainty bites. When she was finished eating, he cleared his throat. "Do you have homework tonight, princess?" He asked, placing his napkin in his plate. "Only an essay to edit, Daddy." She replied, piercing the last bite of her food and bringing it to her mouth. "Well, pumpkin, I was hoping to spend some time with you, but Daddy has a lot of work to do. I, uh. . . " He paused, choosing his words carefully. "There's been a big shift at the company. I need to finish my statement to the press before morning. You understand?" The girl rose silently from her chair, coming over to kiss the plump man on his cheek. "I love you, Daddy. Goodnight." She smiled before exiting the dining room to the stairs.

He never wanted his daughter to be caught up in the obligations of his job. She though he was glorious, that he knew. The last thing he wanted to do was taint her image of him by allowing her to know the truth behind his company. She had always been given the best so she didn't understand what it was like to be uncomfortable monetarily, but she had a good heart and he knew she would be devastated should she know the evils that were the mechanics of a powerful business. He left the table, retiring to his office to write his speech to the world.

Rachel's feet softly padded up the stairs to the top floor. It was mostly open, the vast majority of the space serving as her bedroom except for the walk-in closet, the large bathroom, and the mirrored room to the side that served as her personal ballet studio. The first task she set out to complete was exchanging her school clothes for something more comfortable. The blazer was placed on a hanger while the others were tossed in her wicker hamper. She pulled on a pink tank top with "DANCE" appliqued to the front and a pair of black shorts.

The contemporary champion glided into the small studio, hands gripped the solid barre as her body bent forward and leg twisted gracefully in the air. After a half hour of stretches, she decided it was time to stop procrastinating. Moving to her desk, she opened her green laptop and pulled up the document containing her nearly finished essay.

After about an hour of thought, the man finally finished off his plan. He had an old gun that his grandfather had given to him in his will, it was an old gun, and likely wouldn't even shoot, but it could scare someone. He would go to their house tonight and kidnap the daughter. Although the plan was quite stupid, and he felt stupid for even planning it out... he would have to do it. He would need the money, his job paid barely enough money to keep up with his rent, and it was two weeks overdue. And getting back at the man would be a great bonus, watching his whole world come down around him. He laughed as he made his way towards his bedroom, the gun was locked in a case hidden in the back of his closet. He picked up the small case and thought for a moment, he hadn't unlocked it in years. But finally after several tries, he managed to open it up. There was the gun and two clips, he placed the ammo and gun in a small back bag. He packed some tools that he had lying in his closet, a mask and gloves and a black hoodie.

His plan was simple, park his car a few blocks away from the house and walk from there. He would put on the mask, gloves and hoodie just a few feet away from the house then move in. He'd climb over the fence then make his way around the back, looking for any windows he might be able to break into without being noticed. He'd been to the house once before and had a general idea of the house's layout and knew where her bedroom would probably be located. From there he would find the girl and knock her out, pull her down the hallway and out the front door. He knew the man would likely either be asleep or buried in his work.

By now Dylan was sitting impatiently in his car, waiting for a light to change color. His eyes paced back and forth down the road and around himself. He was nervous, of course. He had never really done anything like this, he wasn't exactly a goodie-goodie, but kidnapping wasn't something he'd planned on doing in his life-time. Finally the light changed colors, it was going to happen, and it would happen soon. He'd finally arrived where he should park, he could tell he was getting close because of all the large houses. He knew theirs was the biggest, which was a good thing because it was almost too dark to see the street names. It didn't take him long to find it, his memory was good and useful. It had been months since he had visited the house, and that was only one time. But here he was, crouched down against a large metal, gated fence which led to the house. With a deep breath, the man began to slowly make his way up the large gate.

Intelligence had come naturally to Rachel, a gift she'd surely inherited from her father. Her grades had always been perfect, though her father probably could have bought off her teachers even if she hadn't been so gifted. Her essay had been written quickly the night it was assigned with little errors for editing tonight. The few mistakes were swiftly corrected, the document re-saved, and the finished product sent to her printer. Standing, arms stretched over her head with a yawn, green eyes went to the green clock on her aquamarine walls. It was getting late.

Gathering her papers, she inserted them into a folder for class, which was dropped into her messenger bag. Shutting down her computer, she picked up her pink IPod from its docking station, the earbuds pushed into her ears. Lights were flipped off with one hand, the other perusing her music to find a slow playlist that would lull her to sleep. Clipping the object to the waistband of her shorts, she pulled back her thick mound of linens, climbing into bed.

Downstairs, the entrepreneur sat behind a desk of rich mahogany wood. His gold pen set rested in a container engraved with intricate patterns. His laptop was open, a cursor blinking on a blank page. Several times he had tried, and failed, to write a statement that would not make him seem like the bad guy in the situation. The economy was changing and he was merely having to adapt to it. If that meant that he made less revenue, it would mean that he could not afford to keep some of his employees. As a family man, it was disheartening to know he had to deprive some families of luxury, but he had to do what was necessary.

The press had become quite demanding of him. They had even gone so far as to follow Rachel to school, criticizing and attacking him for the way he spoiled his daughter. It had taken a great deal of money to clear that situation and ensure that she never learned of that event. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel unsafe in her environment; he hired an undercover bodyguard to watch out for her.

He took off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. There was a prefabricated speech waiting for him. . . all he had to do was sign it. He had wanted to be more sincere in writing his own, but words evaded him. Pushing back the chair, he rose to exit the office. He crept quietly up to her floor, opening the door carefully. Bringing himself to her bedside, he sat down and stared at her. She was so peaceful and beautiful. Rubbing a hand through her hair, he kissed her sleeping cheeks. "Sleep well, angel."

As quietly as he had entered, he left the room. Shutting off lights as he went, he descended the stairs to his own bedroom. Peeling off his clothes to his underwear, he climbed into bed.

It was too late to turn back now and he knew that he had to go through with it. He silently moved through the front yard and made his way around to the side of the house. He could see that all the windows had been shut and locked, but this wouldn't stop him. It would only mean he would have to move quicker while he left the house. He searched the ground slowly looking for a rock, but when none could be found he made his way around the back of the house. Of course there wouldn't be any rocks, the man was rich and had money to make sure everything was perfect. But this also wouldn't stop him. As soon as he took the corner, he noticed the large sliding doors which lead to the kitchen, and beside it was a small decoration, it looked like an engraved rock but it was too dark to see what was actually written on it but that of course didn't even matter.

With a faint crack, and a quiet crashing sound as some of the fallen glass it the ground, he had made a hole big enough to fit his hand through. As he pushed his hand in the hole, he cut himself slightly on the wrist. But he managed to slide the door open cautiously trying not to make any more noise then he had already made with the glass. His first step in was very careful, avoiding the fallen glass and moving deeper into the house he began to remember small bits of the house. Her room shouldn't be far, he knew it was somewhere on the second floor so he took the first staircase he had come across. He knew he must be close, he could feel it. He pushed open quite a few doors before he came to the final door. As he pushed it open he could barely see some aquamarine (Right color? :S) walls and a large bed.

The Maxons were no fools. They had installed a security system to protect their lush home from burglars and any other scum that may have tried to invade it. The only thing that kept the alarm from sounding and alerting him was that in the stress and chaos of the situation at work, he had simply forgotten to arm it. A mistake that would surely cost him what he held most precious in life, but he was yet to learn the consequences.

If the intruder knew anything about the shrewd businessman, he would know how much he spoiled the teenage girl. Her room was visibly the largest in the house, nearly taking up an entire story. The ocean-hued walls attested to a younger person residing inside, the other splashes of vibrant colors slightly visible even in the darkness.

Rachel was snuggled on her side beneath her blankets, her knee propped at an angle so that it peeked out from beneath the covers. Her sleepy ballads still caressed her ears, the songs keeping her subdued in a deep sleep. Perhaps as a result of her leisurely life, insomnia had never been a problem for her. Strands of dirty blond hair swept over her closed eyes, their purple lids almost giving her a shadowy appearance. Full lips were barely parted, though her jaws remained closed. Her left arm was stretched over her head, elbow flexed so that her fingertips swooped down to rest against her jawline. No, she'd never have any way of knowing someone was after her.

On the main floor, Mr. Maxon heard a sound that stirred him in his sleep. Assuming it was just the house settling on its foundation, the fat man rolled over and resumed his slumber.

Unaware of the fact that the alarm had not been set, Dylan still moved quickly but made sure to move silently. Within seconds he was standing still inside the girl's room, he wasn't sure how exactly he would knock her out, or get her out of the building. He had rushed into the too fast and barely spent a day planning it out. In a hasty decision, the man grabbed for the gun which was rested neatly inside the bag. It didn't have a clip inside, and no bullets so he didn't really have to worry about accidentally letting off a shot. But he moved, slowly towards her bed with the gun raised and aimed towards her, if she should open an eye, she would be scared speechless.

As he drew closer and closer, his plan began to lay itself out. He would tie something around her mouth and arms, get her to walk herself out of the house and down the street, get in the car herself. Deciding to use her own pillowcases to tie her up, he picked up two of the pillows that had been resting on the bed beside her, unused. She must have been a heavy sleeper, which was a good thing and would make this whole thing much easier. He soon found himself leaning over with one hand on the bed, the other holding the two pillowcases tight. Slowly, he moved his knee over her and onto the bed. This was insane, he had managed to sneak into a millionaire's house, into his daughter's room and onto her bed.

With soft spoken words, the man spoke "Wake up princess." before he pushed one of the pillowcases up against her mouth, moving quickly and tying it around her head, stopping most of the noise that may come from her cute little, pampered mouth. Next he held the gun to her, showing her that she should be quiet, or else.

Rachel did not hear the sliding of the cases from the pillows as the volume of her music drowned it out. In her restful position, the shift in weight of the bed also did not stir her. She was far away from there, dreaming of things like college and independence. It was not his words that woke her, for her ears were too occupied to carry the sounds to her brain. However, the pressure from the pink pillowcase onto her mouth caused a change in her breathing, thus cruelly yanking her out of her dreams.

Her eyes fluttered open, painfully aware that something was restricting her jaw from moving. The fabric also knocked her earbuds out of her ears, making her vulnerable to all sounds. Eyes blinked in the darkness, trying to adjust to the room but there was an obstruction in her way. It took the million-dollar-princess a few minutes to realize that it was the outline of a solid figure who was hovering over her body. Too startled to scream, she stared at him silently.

The sliver of moonlight from her window illuminated the gun. Her eyes grew wide, mouth making the first sounds with a few soft whimpers, though they were mostly absorbed by the pillowcase. It was instinct to want to pull the cloth away from her mouth, but her body froze when she realized he had the ability to end her life. The hand beneath the covers reached for the IPod, shutting it off and moving it aside. Carefully, she pulled her hand from beneath the surface, showing it to him and laying it on top of the blankets.

Her heart raced from fear, mouth growing dry. She didn't understand what he was doing, but the gun terrified her that he had hurt her daddy. "Please don't hurt Daddy!" She whispered, unsure of whether he could decipher her muffled words.

With a fain but noticeable laugh, the man moved the gun away from the girl slowly. He soon remembered the role he had dropped into his bag while he was still in his apartment, which was a good thing because the pillowcase would probably be too small to even tie her hands. Slowly, the man backed away slowly off the bed and stood beside her without saying one word. Still watching her, he tucked the gun into the jeans beside his hip. Quietly, he unzipped the large black bag that sat on her bed, reaching around for a second his hand soon re-appeared holding a small length of rope. Placing one finger slowly over his mouth, he signaled for her to be quiet.

He worked gently, but used enough force to turn her over onto her belly. He didn't care if she would have helped him or not, or if she would go down gently. But he used as much force as needed to get her down, with her arms behind her, he began to tie away. After several efforts, he finally had a knot tied around the girl's slender hands. After giving a few rough tugs, he was satisfied with his work and reached his hands up her, tugging at the sheet that had been tied around her mouth, which also stayed still. As a small smile came to his face, he even reached around her chest and grabbed a bit roughly at her breast, giving a few squeezes before he stood up on the bed beside her.

"We're both going to walk out of here alive, if you come quietly." he mumbled as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to her feet. He quickly closed up the bag and slung it once again over his shoulder.

Rachel's eyes were glued to him, watching every move he made. With the gun tucked into his jeans and his hands busy unzipping that bag, she could probably get free of him. Years of formal dance training had made her legs strong, enough so that she could probably quickly kick him in his groin. That pain would cause him to lose focus while she rushed out of the room. She didn't know how fast he was, but it was highly unlikely he was faster than her. However, she knew that her getaway plan was greatly flawed in which she would not have time to collect her father before the perpetrator found them. As there would be no way she would leave him behind, she knew it better to cooperate than make things worse by angering him.

Seeing the rope, she shook her head at him, eyes pleading for him not to bind her. Arms tried to shrug him off as he turned her over, but her struggles were no match for his force. The tightening of the rope rubbed at her soft skin, leaving behind red burns. Even after he had succeeded, her wrists flexed against it, trying to break free. While focusing on trying to free herself, she didn't notice his hand snaking around to grab at her breast through her thin top. She screamed out in surprise, jerking her torso away from his hand.

His promise of her life meant nothing coming from a man who was taking her against her will, but it was all she had. He half-dragged her from the bed, her legs giving a good kick-off against the edge so that she could regain her balance once her feet were planted on the floor. She looked up at him, noticing the height difference. Tears ran down her eyes onto her cheeks, dampening the fabric that pushed into her mouth. "Please." She whimpered again, looking up at him. "Don't." Again, she didn't know if her pleas were decipherable but she would have to try.

With the girl at her feet, he knew he would have to get out fast before anything happened. His hand reached slowly down towards the gun that had been tucked at his side. With it gripped in his hand the man moved quickly towards the door and peeked outside. He returned to her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her behind him, using more force then necessary. As he made his way out into the hall the gun was lowered and pointed at the ground. He gave a simple instruction, "Walk quietly or I start shooting." , his order was half mumbled but clear. His grip loosened slightly but he stayed close enough behind her to grab her if she tried anything stupid.

His eyes were focused on the girl, he motioned for her to walk ahead of him. He wasn't exactly sure of the quickest way out so he would leave that up to the girl. And if she would be stupid enough to lead him elsewhere, she would be punished severely.

Everything that could possibly go wrong was rushing through his head by now. He knew he'd rushed into this, and that he shouldn't even be doing it. But he did, and now here he was. Earlier today he was a just a man who worked in a small cubicle for a million dollar company and now he was kidnapping a young girl, at gunpoint. He slight chuckle escaped his mouth as he began walking down the hall, without another noise.

Rachel wasn't so much frightened for her own life as she was for her father's. The unfamiliar man didn't seem too intent on hurting her yet. . . he'd already had plenty of chances to do that. His hand was coiled too tightly around her arm, causing her discomfort when he jerked her forward. She slipped out the door, leading him down the short corridor to the stairs. Keeping her footsteps light, she descended the stairs carefully, her bare feet making soft thumps on the steps.

When they entered the main floor, her heart skipped a beat. Located behind the stairs down the hallway was her father's bedroom, but she would do everything in her power to deter him from there. Tears continued to push over the brims of her eyes, though she held her breath to control her sobs. She wanted to run to Daddy, to let him save her, but she couldn't.

Hearing his wicked chuckle, Rachel halted in her walk. She turned her body toward him, staring at the figure. He was getting her to cooperate fully and yet he laughed at her? Legs wanted to lunge at him, tackle him to the ground and hurt him the way he was emotionally hurting her. It took all the willpower within her to make herself turn around into the right direction. Leading him from the living room to the front door, she paused to show him she had led him to the exit. Eyes glanced up at the flashing alarm system, heart sinking to discover it was unarmed.

"Dumb old fuck." he said with a small silent laugh as he seen the unarmed alarm. He continued to unlock the door and open it quietly. He waited for her to leave first, the he followed close behind her. "You did a good job, as long as you keep listening to me you won't be hurt." he mumbled as he walked slowly down the pathway towards the street. He noticed that she wasn't wearing any shoes. "Come here, I'll carry you." he told her as he held out her arms, willing to carry her so that she didn't step on anything sharp that may be laying on the dark, cold ground. He might be kidnapping her, but he was still human and didn't want her to get hurt, at least not before he got what he wanted.

She heard his words about her father, pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place. Could this all be about Daddy's company and the shift it was making? She didn't want to walk out that door, the uncertainty frightening her. Still, she had to, had to make him leave her house and leave her Daddy alone. The metal from her necklace burned at her skin, her father's etched words ever-present, as if reminding her from afar how much he loved her.

At this point, Rachel hung back, choosing to let him lead. Of course, her strides matched his so that he wouldn't think her doing any suspicious behavior. With his compliments of her actions, she furrowed her brow. Again, she wanted to harm him, or at the very least, spit in his face. Too bad his makeshift gag prevented her from doing that.

With his words, she stared at him incredulously. He was a kidnapper, but a gentle one? It was a ridiculous concept, and he would be able to hear her laughing into the fabric at her mouth. Still, he seemed serious. Shaking her head, she stood back hesitantly. Finally, afraid he would punish her if she didn't comply, she walked over to him to let him pick her up.

He picked her up by pulling her body against his, placing one hand on her butt and the other against her back. He held her only a little bit above the ground until the got further down the road and he put her down beside his car. "Get in the front seat and don't touch anything." he ordered her as he opened up the back door and threw in the bag, then walking around to the driver's seat door and jumping inside quickly. He fiddled around in his pocket looking for the keys but after a few seconds of reaching around, he pulled his hand out with the keys inside. He placed it gently in the ignition and turned it slowly. The engine revved and he waited for her to get inside, his eyes were focused on the girl who stood outside.

When he lifted her, the position she was in put a strain on her shoulders. She cried out into the pillowcase, trying to angle her body so that she didn't hurt so much. Head had no choice but to fall on his shoulder, bracing herself against his body so that she didn't fall forward onto the hard ground.

When he set her down, barking his order, she stared back him. How did he expect her to touch anything when her hands were bound behind her. The least he could have done was open the door for her, but no this "gentleman" wasn't as smart as he looked. No wonder he was probably one of the masses to be fired from Daddy's company. . . there was no intelligence in his brain.

She turned around backwards, her hands lifting up awkwardly on the handle. Falling into the seat, she stared back at him, indicating that he would have to shut the damn door or leave it open when he was driving.

Reaching across the girl, he pulled the door shut. He even reached his hand up and pulled her seat belt over her body gently. He could tell she was beginning to realize he wasn't professional by any means at kidnapping. Looking at her in her seat, his hand reached for the pillowcase and pulled it over her eyes so that she wouldn't be able to see where they were driving. Probably one of the only smart things he had done today. As he pulled off into the dark night, he drove slowly towards his house. Wouldn't he feel stupid if he was pulled over for speeding right now.

Rachel's eyes watched him warily, noticing how careful he had seemed to be with her. It was still astounding to her how moronically ironic this man was. Kidnapping her, but gently. Rachel sat in the seat with her back slightly arched away from it so that the angle didn't continue to hurt her shoulders that were pulled back because of the rope around her wrists. Just for good measure, she tugged at the restraints, wincing when it burned her skin.

When he finally pulled the pillowcase over her eyes, she sighed. "About time." She murmured, closing her eyes when the makeshift blindfold was secured. Still, she would refuse to talk, not having anything to say to him. She was still aware of the gun, though she was more frightened that he would aim it at her and miss, causing her to be horrifically maimed instead of actually killing her. Or, even better, perhaps it would backfire and he'd shoot himself.

Rachel did have a great advantage over him, though: she was far more intelligent than he ever could have imagined. While he carried her, she was able to focus on the exact distance his car was parked from her house. She wasn't a genius, but she excelled in most subjects, math being one of them. While he drove so cautiously, Rachel was able to tell every direction he made. Every turn was noted, counting the seconds it took for him to change directions. No, she couldn't tell the exact speed he was going, but she did know the speed limits so she could easily calculate it all. Of course, none of that would help her unless she was able to get to a phone and tell someone where he had taken her.

As the car came to a silent halt, there was a short period of silence before the car was shut off and the door was opened. Looking at the time, he knew he would be alone in the halls and the parking lot. It was dark outside so it would be hard for any wandering eyes to tell that she was indeed nearly naked, blindfolded and restrained. But eventually when the man was satisfied with the knowledge that they would be alone, he opened his door and closed it quietly behind him. There he stood for another minute before opening the passenger's side door and unbuckling the seat belt for the girl. "Remember what I told you, make a noise and you die."

Those were his only words as his arms reached under her body and picked her up out of the car. He held her tight in his arms, pushing her back against the car door to close it. He moved quickly through the dark parking lot towards the door, struggling to slip the key into the hole with the girl still in his arms. After finally managing to pull the door open, he slipped inside. The faint aroma of what the man had been cooking still filled the air of the cramped little apartment complex. But with soft, silent footsteps the man made his way to his apartment, opening and closing the door quickly. The girl was almost immediately plopped down on the couch, and he returned to the door to lock it tightly, the old locks on the door made a fairly loud scratching noise as it shut tight. This might serve to his advantage if she should try to escape. "Keep your eyes closed." he ordered her, as he moved around his room with the black bag, throwing in any mail, pictures or anything recognizable. He also quickly shut the large blinds which looked out over the city. The knives, forks and utensils were also thrown in the bag which he disposed of quickly by throwing into his bedroom closet, then locked his bedroom by key.

"I'm going to untie you now, then I want you to take off all your cloths." he told her as his hands moved quickly to untie the rope, and slowly removed the pillowcase from her mouth and eyes.

Rachel's mind never once stopped assessing the directions in which he took, constantly calculating every move. She was grateful for the silence as it kept her focused without distractions. When she felt the car finally come to an idle before he shut it off, she started repeating the course they had taken to herself so she would not forget it.

She heard his door open and close, the gap long enough to give evidence he had gotten out of the car. For a moment, she held her breath, violent images coming to her mind of the car plunging into a lake or something as equally disturbing that would ultimately end in her unjustified death. Finally, she heard the creaking of the door and felt the seat belt being loosened from her body. His words were full of threats, though she saw no reason to it. She'd cooperated thus far with him and besides, the silence was a great advantage to her.

When he lifted her from the vehicle, she groaned, shifting herself in his arms to make it more comfortable for herself. The cold wind of the night was a brutal reminder that she was dressed for the warmth of her bed, bare arms and legs exposed to the chilly air. She buried her face in the curve of his neck, not because she wanted to, but because it shielded her from the wind. Body shivered in his arms, leaning in as closely to his chest as she could so that she could both feel his body heat and keep from falling.

Due to the fact that he was carrying a bound girl in the middle of the night, she would have initially thought he lived in a deserted area. However, when they stepped inside and she smelled the stale aroma of food and considering how long it took him to shift her so he could open the door, she gathered she was in some sort of multi-housing structure. When he dropped her onto the softness of the couch, her arms behind her, she thought about trying to wiggle one of her hands free from the restraints. However, being that she was blind to where she was, she thought it unwise.

She could hear him scuffling around the room, though she wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Ears strained to hear, but his voice came too soon, startling her. With his statement, she pushed back into the couch, head slightly shaking. Of course she wanted to be free from the restraints, but she would not undress herself in front of him. Her body visibly trembled, though part of it was still because of the cold, but mostly it was out of shock and fear.

As her wrists were freed, she immediately brought them to her lap. When her makeshift gag and blindfold was tugged away, eyes opened immediately, wincing as they struggled to adjust to lighting. Her head was tilted down so that she could not see him, her only concern her wrists. Bringing them to eye level, she turned them over to examine the small abrasions and burns formed there.

"I told you to strip off your cloths." the words escaped his mouth as he held the restraints tightly in his hands. "Do you really want me to get violent?" he added as his hand reached out, tugging at her shorts, lifting her up enough to allow him to tug them off to her knees. "This could go by quickly if you let co-operate with me." was also added to his words as the shorts dropped to her feet.

"All I want is to make a couple videos, then it will be over and I might even let you go home in a few days." he mumbled as he took a seat on a chair that was located a a few feet off to the right of the couch. He watched her closely, looking for any actions she might take, watching to see if she would make a run for the door. And if she would, he would have to take an action of his own, one that might possibly end her life.

The man sat quietly after he spoke his commands and threats, watching her and waiting to see if she would listen to him and strip. It was several seconds before the man stood up and made his way to the kitchen, keeping his eyes focused on the girl. On top of the fridge was a small digital camera, which he made sure to wipe clean of any previous pictures. He soon took his place back on the chair, walking slowly and carefully with the camera in his hand. Pressing the small button, a tiny red light on the top of the camera gave a small dot of bright, red light. "Well, are you going to strip or not?" he asked her as the camera was aimed in her direction.

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