Kidnapping Story (Another unfinished story with out a title...)

by Renee in Texas

This is the bits and peices of a kidnapping story I am to be working on. I got the most of it from a roleplay I'm doing. It doesn't have any rape scenes in it or anything. That would be kinda a weird thing to write about. Yeh.. anyways, here ya are.
(I cannot take full credit for this writting. One of my guy friends roleplayed a kidnapping scene with me. Part of this is his.)

The charming but rather silenced city echoed with a delicate sound of heels walking down the street. The young lady wearing the striking red heels could be seen from a distance. She was dainty and petite for her age, which was around fifteen. Her figure’s undersized dilemma was not a problem for fitting into flashy clothes, however. She was dressed in a simple but lovely snow-white sundress with a light-washed, short-sleeved denim cover jacket as a throw-over. Rather large golden hoops hung from her ears, with a shiny, gold purse to match. Her sinless look was completed with her dirty blond curls that flowed a bit passed her shoulders and her shocking hazel eyes. The girl walked down the street with much self-confidence and pride as she smoothly swayed her hips back and forth. Her name was Isabella Lonaer. She pulled out a small, round mirror from her purse and checked up on her looks for a moment. She smoothly evened out a bit of her red lipstick with her finger, fluffed her curls, slipped the mirror back in, and with a quick check to her small, gold watch (which stated 9:32 exactly) she kept on strutting down the path. The sun was setting quickly tonight and the heavy rain clouds overhead added to the deepening darkness. The soft noises of heels exploded like gunshots through the soundless city, rousing the tall man from his trance. He straightened his posture, listening. He stood up, cat-like in all his movements. He brushed long dark hair out of his equally dark eyes. He wore a simple button-down shirt. It draped over his slim frame, giving him a rather tortured, romantic appearance. Taking one step forward, he reached out and stroked the wall of the building next to him. He watched the woman cross in front of him. She looked intriguing. For a moment, he wondered if he really had enough energy to follow her. The shadows beckoned him back like a desperate lover. He slipped out from the shadows. Anthony Gray, almost 20, was on the hunt. Isabella heard footsteps from behind her. She took a glance over her shoulder to see if it was her boyfriend trying to surprise her. No. It was someone else. She turned her head back forwards and continued walking. After a couple moments, she decided she would take a turn at a corner, just to see what he would do. You can never be to safe in a big enough city. He did slightly the same. She was beginning to get cautious now. She quickened her pace. She was smart. That made things more interesting. Anthony suppressed a grin as he adjusted his pace to match hers. Eventually he was running. Closer…closer…He had her. He took her by the waist and put his hand over her mouth. "Ssh," he said softly into her ear. "Don't be afraid…." Isabella couldn’t believe this was happening to her. The cold hands around her waist send a chill up her spine and she froze stiff. She tried to scream but only muffled hums came from her covered mouth. She kicked and pushed away from the man but nothing was helping, it only made him tighten his grip on her. ‘What is going to happen to me?’ She thought. Anthony couldn't help but smile when he saw the fear in her eyes. That more than anything else was what he loved about doing this. "You poor, frightened thing," he continued. "What are you doing out all alone in the city? Surely your family must be worried about you..." He picked her up, keeping a firm grip on her mouth so she couldn't scream. She kicked and hit at the man, but it was still useless, she tried to pry his hand from her mouth the best she did only allowed a little slit and a few seconds to talk, “Get your hands off of--“ her voice became muffled again as he pushed it back down. She was restless at kicking, which only made her short dress ride up her hips, exposing her thin black underwear. Anthony had a car, granted it was old and beat-up, but it moved. He went to it, took a roll of tape out of the trunk, and used it to bind the girl. He put her in the backseat, then got into the driver's seat and took off. "Stop struggling," he said to her. "I've told you. You're all right." He looked in the rearview mirror at her. He'd picked a good one this time. She kept struggling for some time but then realized she couldn’t get free. So she sat up the best she could and tried to see out the dirty window. A lot of things went though her head but she was mostly looking for cars to try and get their attention. But, alas, it was night, and hard to see into the musky windows of the broken-down car. The ride continued and she waited for the man to say something. “So what's your name?" Anthony asked after a few minutes of silence. He didn't usually hate silence, but for some reason, having another person with him made him uneasy. “Abraham Lincoln.” She rolled her eyes, "Well, pleased to meet you, Mr. Lincoln," Anthony said, smiling. "I'm John Wilkes Booth." He glanced quickly over his shoulder at her and laughed, knowing she wouldn't return it. "No, my name's Anthony." She glared at him in his mirror, not replying. She looked out the window again. “Where are we going?” she said as she noticed an old barn and a broken fence pass by the small scene she saw from her window. "Home," Anthony said simply. He turned left and stopped in front of a very old-looking house. "And here we are. I think you'll find it comfortable.'" Isabella was shocked. “Could he really mean home? He was keeping me here forever? And if not forever… when would he let me go? Or would he let me go? Would he kill me after he was done with me? Will I ever see the sunshine outside again?” Thoughts raced through her mind as Anthony opened his door and got out. “He is going to be putting up with one big bitch if he thinks he is going to get me out of here very easily!” she said to herself as he opened her door.
Anthony picked Isabella up again, as she couldn't walk with tape around her feet, and started heading for the house. She kicked and screamed and hit him, well, tried to, but the tape was so very tight, it didn’t leave her very much room to move. She screamed and yelled for help but there was nobody around for miles. “You can’t do this!” she would cry and, “stop!” and “put me down right now!” Finally she quieted down and tried to memorize everything around her. "Well, you're energetic, aren't you?" Anthony said with a small laugh. He kicked the door of the house open and set her down, where he took the tape off her legs. He held her down with one hand so she couldn't run away and looked her over again. "You're very pretty. It's a shame your boyfriend can't see you now." He looked at her clothes, which were still pretty disheveled. “He was expecting me tonight.” She said out loud in an upset tone. She noticed his glances and squirmed around a little to try and wiggle her dress back down. She was silent for a moment while in thought. "Well. He's just going to have to wait a little longer." Anthony smiled again. He wondered what exactly she would and wouldn't let him do. Oh well. There would be time for that later. Right now he was hungry. He stood and headed for the kitchen. "You hungry, darling?" he called back over his shoulder. “Famished… and don’t call me darling.” She replied, trying to sit up. She looked across the room for any variety of escape. The windows were bolted in and even if they weren’t she couldn’t stand up to get through them or to open the door. Trapped. She was getting uncomfortable sitting with both legs horizontal and her body vertical so she determined that she would sit crisscross, but she was wearing a dress. So she decided to lie back down on the cold floor. "Point taken." Anthony said as he grasped the handlebar and opened an old refrigerator. There wasn't much. His food supply consisted of a stick of butter, a carton of milk that had expired Lord-knew-when, a limp head of lettuce, and a slice of cake. He opted for the cake, and cut it in half to give a slice to Isabella. When he came back into the room where he'd left her, he couldn't hold back his bark of laughter. "You look uncomfortable." “Well, I’m kind of fixed up in duct tape.” Isabella stated bleakly, struggling aggressively to add drama. She fought with the binds a bit but then looked up at her owner pleadingly. Anthony bent down and undid the duct tape. Just for fun, he decided to kiss her in the process, keeping a hand pressed against her shoulder, holding her to the wall. He broke away. "Bon appetite," he said as he slid the plate of cake towards her.
“Thanks” she said, whipping her mouth of the slobber. She grabbed the dish and picked up the piece of cake, looking over it. “You didn’t do anything to it… did you?” She looked up at him, questionably, with a thin brow raised. "I hadn't planned on it, but if you want me to, I'd be more than willing," Anthony said with a smile. She was even prettier when she was being stubborn. Isabella rolled her eyes faintly as she chomped on the slice. She tossed the last bite of cake into her mouth and licked her chocolate-covered figures clean. Isabella smacked awkwardly for a moment before saying, “Are you going to give me anything to drink?” "Maybe if you asked politely." Anthony opened a cupboard. "But I do have a bottle of wine here if you might like it." “Umm… no. Do you just have water?” Isabella wasn’t much interested in the tang of wine or any alcoholic drink she had tasted in her years. In fact, she even skipped out on the communion time at her church, even though the drink was just grape juice. “Oh…umm… please.” She added naively. "Whatever you wish." Anthony filled up a glass of water (even though it was still a wine glass) and handed it to her. "I take it you're not one of the more highly sophisticated women who truly enjoy a fine merlot," he said nonchalantly as he uncorked the wine bottle and poured himself a glass. "Oh well...your tastes may change in the future." Isabella nodded, “I’m only fourteen.” She watched Anthony closely as he leaned on the doorway into the kitchen “If you keep me here any longer than a week, I’ll miss my birthday.” She said, crossing her arms in displeasure. "Well I'll be sure to throw a special party for you," Anthony said. He raised his wineglass slightly and nodded at her. "Cheers." Isabella picked her glass from the floor, “Oh… umm…yeah.” She lifted the drink into the air. Then, after waiting for a second, brought it to her lips to take a sip. “Sooo…” she started after a satisfied pant, “Is there anyone else here? Or just you...?” "Just me." Anthony didn't look at her. His roguish smile had faded. His eyes narrowed, shadowed by a pang of nostalgia and grief. Then it disappeared and he looked at her again. "But, obviously, now there is you.” Isabella noticed the man’s somber expression and wondered what might have happened to the captor a lifetime ago. “Yes.” She nodded, wanting to say and ask more. Isabella looked at Anthony as the room fell into a quiet hush.
Silence was broke by a sharp beat on the door.. suddenly… "ANTHONY. OPEN UP," a rough voice called. More knocking. Anthony sighed and went to the door to open it. "What do you want?" he snapped as he yanked the door open to reveal a tall man with mousy reddish hair and a thin veil of stubble on his chin. "You," the man answered simply, putting a foot in the doorway so Anthony couldn't slam the door on him. "That's just sick," Anthony said. "I’ve heard enough of you, Thomas." He started to push him back, "No, that's not what I meant. You owe me some money, man." Thomas shoved his way into the threshold. The redheaded man’s sight fell upon the youthful girl whom was now backing into the shadows of a corner. “Well… we’ve picked up some company, haven’t we…” Said the man as he flashed a taunting smirk towards Isabella. He dumped himself over the couch and let his eyes roam around the nervous girl’s petite figure. Isabella straightened herself up and gave a disgusted look towards the man. With a small laugh, Thomas tore his head from Isabella as he turned and smiled gawkily at Anthony. “So who’s the new gag?”
"Isabella." Anthony's voice was flat, almost devoid of any kind of emotion. He poured himself another glass of wine, not bothering to offer any to his so-called guest. "You know the rule. Hands off."