Lynne:
I didn't grasp what was going on. Not really. I didn't understand why Clay looked so panicked as we quietly ducked from shadow to shadow. I didn't understand why he clasped his hand over my mouth when I spoke slightly above a whisper. That's it…
I just didn't understand.
I didn't know anything about how the world worked… or Clay. Despite his anger and brash exterior, I saw something in him as he held that sword to my throat. Even though I thought I was dreaming, I could still see the look in his eye. It was nothing but desperation and pain. Like a wounded animal lashing out in its last desperate attempt to survive.
I thought all he would need is a helping hand. I never thought he'd leave me behind.
Maybe that was stupid of me. He grew up in this world. This cold, barren world that I wasn't a part of. I remembered how angry he got at me when I complained about the food we had found. That moment was proof that though I pretended I knew everything that was going on, that I understood our situation. I truly didn't.
The kidnapping was nothing like on TV. There was no 'don't damage the goods' line. There was no superhero to come save me at the last moment before I was taken away. There was nothing but big, strong hands thrashing me to follow them. Pulling my hair, my arms, my shirt. Anything they could get their hands on.
At first, they were just going to sell my clothes but once they analyzed me closer, they must have realized I was from a rich family.
I was dragged to a big warehouse, not that I knew where it was since they blindfolded me. I felt them shove me into a metal chair, ropes secured tight around me as I heard the sound of ripping ducktape. It was wrapped around my wrists, chest and legs. Any part of my body I could move was pinned down before they ripped off the blindfold.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the lighting. Though they were dim, yellow lights they seemed blinding after having a blindfold over my eyes for so long. As soon as I could see again, I saw three men standing in front of me. The same three men that grabbed me in the alleyway.
"Looky here! There's no way this guy isn't some nobility!" One of them cooed as he walked around the chair I was sitting on. He reached towards me and my heart raced as I closed my eyes. I felt his grimy hand run through my hair, but at least he didn't hurt me.
"What do you want?" I chocked out, trying to keep down my screams. The warehouse was vast, and I'm sure they weren't stupid enough to have me in earshot of anybody if they kept me ungagged.
"Oh, you know. Money, fame, wealth. The usual." The second man laughed.
"And girls!" The third pitched in.
I narrowed my eyes at them. That was all it took to make them continue. "What's your family name, rich boy?"
My blood boiled when he called me that. I remembered when Clay used the same name. It reminded me that he was just like these guys. A thug, out for survival and nothing else... no matter what I saw in him earlier, I was wrong.
I just met him anyways, what did I expect? And why did I feel so betrayed...?
"Charlton," I stated, my voice monotoned.
Their eyes went wide, jaws dropped down to the floor. Their expressions were dumbfounded. "Did… you just say, Charlton…? Like… THE Charlton!? Prince Charlton!?"
Now it was my turn to be dumbfounded. "What do you mean prince? My mom is well-off, sure, but… I'm no prince."
They burst out laughing. "It's well known, King Charlton has no wife."
"I… don't understand. It's the opposite. I've got a mom, I've never even met my father," I grumbled. "Where is she!?"
"You think I know him personally dumbass?" One of the men mocked. "I don't know what he did with his wife. He never even revealed to the public that he had any kids!"
"You don't know that your father reigns over the kingdom of Athard?" The man closest to me said wearily. "Unless you're lying about your name."
"The… The what? That's not a real place. Is it?" I said, my voice shaking. "Aren't we in England?"
"England?" The first man said slowly as if he was saying that word for the first time. He then gave me the most confused expression I've ever seen. "What are you talking about? Did you hit your head?"
"You pulled on his hair too hard!" The second man exclaimed, shoving the first. "Now his mind's all broken!"
My eyes widened, I could feel my entire body was shaking. I didn't wake up in another town like I first thought. I didn't even wake up in the same country… this place…
This place was an entirely different WORLD!
That's when the sudden wave of nausea hit. It felt as if I was drowning, like there wasn't enough air around me. I started to hyperventilate, my head spinning as a sort of fear overtook me that I had never felt before.
I was going to die.
My father probably didn't even know I existed since I never met him, and my mom wouldn't be able to get here! There wasn't going to be any ransom money, they were just going to kill me!
My body wouldn't stop shaking. I was never going to see home again, I would never see my mother or my friends at school. In an entirely different world, I was a fish out of water. I didn't know any town or kingdom names, I didn't even know in what other ways this world differed from my own. I was an alien. I didn't belong.
So, why was I here!? And how…?
"Damn. You really broke him, dude." The third man grumbled, his face now getting dangerously close to mine. This only made my heart rate increase, my lungs burning from lack of air.
"Whatever, he's still alive. Get a hold of his old man. Since he's the prince of Athard, we can drive the price up nice and high." He grinned, a wide toothy grin. "It'll be easy to find his father too, just talk to the first person of authority you see. The message will be sure to get back to our 'fearless leader'."
They smirked with a sickening chuckle, the second man heading towards the door. "You two keep 'im company. Show some hospitality, make sure his old man will get nice and desperate when he gets a look at our prize here..." He said sinisterly, and with that, the rickety door slammed shut.
"Aight Mr. Price. Looks like we gotta beat you within an inch a yer life." One of them said, cracking his knuckles. "My guess is the bloodier yer face, the more yer old man 'ill be willing to choke up."
I shook my head and pulled desperately at the ropes as they snickered, approaching me slowly. My eyes flew open wide, whipping my head around for something, anything to save me. But as I stared into the darkness of the empty warehouse, true despair set in. "HELP!" I yelped helplessly.
The only thing I could think of was to pathetically shout.
"Do you think we're dumb enough to keep this place within earshot of anybody?" The other said, squeezing his hand shut and bashing his knuckles across my cheek.
I had never been hit before. The pain was so much worse than I thought it would be. His sharp knucklebones pierced into my flesh, the inside of my cheek knocking into my teeth and causing blood to spill in my mouth. I could feel tears spring to my eyes as my head jolted from the force.
I whimpered and trashed again at the ropes. I was completely helpless. They were really going to beat me half to death… I didn't want to feel that pain again. I didn't want to get hurt.
I was scared.
Another trash came from the taller man now, his punch even stronger than the last. I thought the impact was going to make my head fly right off, after the jolt my head spun, my vision shaky making it hard to see.
I couldn't hold back my tears anymore as they ran down my face. I sobbed hard, bowing my head as my shoulders shook from my raspy breaths. "Please…" I choked. "Somebody…"
"Look!" The taller one cackled. "He's cryin' like a 'lil bitch!"
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself anywhere else. Anywhere but here. "Somebody, please help me…" but my voice was nothing more than a whisper.
"Let's see how many punches it takes to knock him out!" The other exclaimed, drawing back his fist.
That was when the metal door of the warehouse slammed open. The man froze in his tracks, both of the men turning around. "Who the hell are you!?"
"Me…?" The voice grumbled, echoing off of the walls and bouncing to my ears. The voice was familiar, deep and raspy, yet young.
I cracked my eyes open and looked towards the door. There stood a man with flaming red hair and a scar across his cheek, a rusty sword gripped tightly in his hand.
"The name's Clay."