Sunday, October 11, 2015

Well, SCRATCH 'TRADITIONAL' KIDNAPPING. THIS WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT... 10/11/15

Danny, our teenaged night-fiend, talks again--

The cabbie offered us 'sweets.' He said 'sweets' not candy or anything like that and I think he was Anglo-British. Looked like Englebert Humperdink . Since the container had yet to be opened we each took one. Rather like Altoid mints, I think they were. We thanked him and watched the crowds squeeze through Fifteenth Street on their way toward the big subway stop by City Hall. They looked soaked and quite eager to ride the escalators under ground. Some would undoubtedly buy umbrellas and hot coffee in the below street level shopping concourse. It ran for blocks.

Then the windshield wipers began to beat a quick rhythm. I suppose they'd been doing that since we got in, but whatever was in those mints started to work . We were drugged and that was it. The people.. the shops... the Christmas lights.. the rain disappeared, as a deep, dark cloud enveloped us. Janis, the singer girl, was in the middle. She fell 'asleep' against me. That's all I remember.

I awoke in a room, or a cell. It was in a basement. There was a window, a very small one up by the ceiling, maybe sixteen inches long and six inches wide. The glass was very thick and it was nailed shut. It was dark out... nothing to see save a light... a streetlamp or more likely a security light pinned up on the moldering brick wall of the building across the alley. But a bit of the glow fell into my prison. The floor was painted concrete. The walls were cinderblock and the door, though pressed like wood, with recessed panels, was metal, a dark, almost black, charcoal colored metal. I could make out the spot where a door knob once was, though it was gone now and plugged with a round piece of iron. I couldn't budge it... the door, I mean. So I sat on the cot (the place was much like a jail cell, but minus that little toilet-sink thing.). My heart was pounding, but I didn't scream... I didn't call out. I was too scared. Where were the others? Were they in 'rooms' like this too? How long had I been there? My parents. My family. Oh God. I pressed myself back into a corner and hugged my knees. I was numb, or pretended to be.

The cold from the cinderblock wall drained the heat from my body. I began to shiver. There was a rough wool blanket folded by the foot of the cot. I lifted an edge. It smelled clean... a bit of a mothball scent, but clean. At least there wouldn't be bugs with the naphtha and all. I wrapped it around me, laid down, curled up and drifted off. Only my nose peeked out from the makeshift cocoon. Then I slept, as the drug was obviously still in me. 

Someone was in the cell. I opened my eyes to see a stooped, shrouded figure rush out and lock the door. It was still dark. Perhaps I'd just dozed off for a short while? Perhaps a whole day had passed. I didn't know. I'm guessing I was out for an hour or so, because I hadn't peed yet. There was a jar standing on the floor, an old, glass, mayonnaise jar with a screw on metal lid. It was filled with what looked like a thick, meaty, split pea soup. The outside of the jar was still warm. I unscrewed the lid, dipped in a finger and sniffed... tasted a bit too. I was hungry and drank it down. Then I reached in and scooped out the thick part. After that, I cried, not so much for myself, but for my family.

Eventually, I had to pee. There was no drain in the floor. I looked. But I found a white, enamel pot under the cot... My toilet. What else could I do? Then I laid there and thought who would they send for the slops?

Daylight came. I knew it because the tiny bit of light sneaking in through the small window grew a bit less feeble. The thick pane of glass was obviously smoked, or darkened in some way.

Soon after, I heard the sound of a key. Someone was opening the door. I heard wheezing. I heard coughing. Who, or whatever it was hummed a little song. I didn't recognize it.... Then a person came in... That's it. I can't tell you if it was a man or a woman.. You know how some people are neutral... thick skinned.... mousy hair.... pouchy jowls....dirty nails? Well, this individual was like that. Wore a long, worn, black terry cloth bathrobe too. Don't ask me what that represented. I have no idea.

It raised its head and 'looked' at me. But in place of eyes there were dull, silvery, metal orbs. I saw them glint in the minimal light.

Well... scratch 'traditional' kidnapping.

The thing chuckled ominously and said - Come wit' me..... I froze. Then it added. If you fail to cooperate... if you frustrate their intentions, they will simply kill you... Then it chuckled some more..... It gestured toward the opened door. Beyond lay only blackness.

I got off the cot and walked through the doorway. The strange thing followed. I could feel it's breath, as it said - keep moving....

I carefully made my way down a dark, stone walled passage that seemed to go on forever...

<more next time>

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