People ask me how I came to be apart of The Network's family. It's a long story that shocks a lot of people. They ask me if I miss my friends and family, but The Network are my friends and my family too. They ask how I can trust them after the way I met them, but they're just don't understand, they don't see the people like I do, they see a bunch of freaks in masks. I'll tell you my story, maybe you'll see what the others don't.
That night started out like so many others, walking home from work. My route takes me through some pretty dodgy areas of the city, but it's quicker than waiting for the bus, and besides, I love this place, it's my home away from home. I always had the mentality that no-one would bother me anyway. Who would want to rape some dumpy, pale English girl, when you could have a gorgeous L.A model with legs up to her armpits?
That night though, I had the feeling that someone was following me... not that I could see anyone or even hear them, but that feeling, I couldn't shake it. It was like I had a spider crawling up my arm, only to slap it away to find nothing there. But the itch was still there, the thought that it was climbing higher, the tickle of legs that weren't there. The cold feeling of dread crept up on me as I quickened my pace. I was certain if I stopped or slowed down, I would be done for. Left in a ditch to rot, hacked to pieces by some knife welding maniac, because it happens y'know? You see it on the news every other day. My paranoia made me shiver to my very core.
Streets and roads passed by in a blur. My street was approaching fast now, I'd nearly beaten my unknown terror. Then I remembered the alley. The dimly lit stretch of pavement that lead me to my door. I've always hated that alley, even in broad daylight it was nerve-wrecking enough. At night, it's perfect for the shady characters of the city to gather and go about their business. Hookers, junkies and dealers are given just enough privacy from the road, thanks to the curve in the middle of it.
As I approached it, I was surprised to see it empty. In hindsight, that should have been enough to warn me off, but when you're scared, you do strange things, make silly mistakes. I rushed down the alley, not even thinking about what could be lurking down there. I could feel my heart thumping away, the pressure in my head was deafening me, the stench of rotten garbage making me gag. As I reached my door, I dug into my bag for my keys in a panic, knowing that whatever was chasing me would be on top of me in a matter of seconds. My fingers brushed against the cold metal as I grabbed them. Pulling them out of my bag, I fumbled and dropped them, cursing loudly. There was a rustling behind me. I knew then that I wasn't just paranoid. I froze, rooted to the spot. I could smell him behind me, an expensive men's aftershave, exotic, intoxicating. I felt him brush up behind me. He hesitated for a few seconds, probably waiting for me to fight back, then grabbed for me. A callused hand smashed down over my mouth, squashing my nose.
I could taste cigarettes and alcohol on his fingers. His other arm found it's way around my body, managing to hold both my arms in place, making it impossible for me to fight back even if I had been able to. He was breathing heavily onto the back of my neck, his hot breath only adding to my chills. He whispered hoarsely into my ear "Don't scream, don't scream and you won't get hurt". I managed to nod meekly, and seemingly satisfied with my response, he removed his hand from my mouth. Giving me only a moment to recover my composure slightly, he forced me against the wall. Using his weight to keep me in place, he grabbed my wrists and forced them behind my back. The rough brick work scraped against my face as my tears began to fall silently. He secured my hands using a cable tie, then pulled me back and to the floor.
Through my watery vision, I saw my captor for the first time. Looking up to his head, I saw his features were hidden by a mask, the kind that you see wrestlers wear on TV. It cut away at the mouth, revealing a strong jaw and pink lips. His body was stocky, with strong, muscular arms and toned legs, covered up with dark clothing. A bit of a middle-age spread made me realize that this was an older man. I was struck by how nervous he was, like this was the first time he'd done this. He was too busy fiddling with his mobile phone to notice me watching him."Fink...it's me. I've got her... she's conscious... no, she's pretty compliant... do I have to? She's...ok, ok...I'll do it, just get here and pick me up..."He finished his call and looked down at me. "So, Shell" I flinched. How did he know my name? "I'm sorry to do this to you, but my boss thinks it'll be easier if you're unconscious" He reached into his back pocket and brought out a brown bottle and a cloth. I started to panic again, having seen enough crime shows to work out that he was dabbing enough chloroform on the cloth to knock me out.
"Please... no...no...don't do this! I'll do whatever you want!" finally finding my voice.
"I'm sorry, I have to." He lent forward and kissed my lips softly. My heart was thumping in my chest. That didn't concern me as much as the throbbing in a more intimate area. This man was kidnapping me, there was at least one other person involved, this "Fink" he'd spoken to, why was I so turned on? "Sweet dreams" he whispered, bringing the cloth up to my mouth. I held my breath until I couldn't take the burning sensation in my lungs anymore, and took a deep breath in. The sweet-smelling vapours got to work immediately. The world became dark as I lost the fight to stay awake. The last thing I remember is hearing a vehicle pull into the alley.
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Coming to, my senses were screaming. There was a thumping in my head which felt like a boxer having a title fight against my skull, the ringing in my ears only added to the effect. The air was thick with cigarette smoke that made my mouth dry. My vision was too blurred to see my new environment, but the sensation of being watched was back. There was voices too, but I was still too dazed to make out the conversation. It wasn't until I tried to move that I felt the physical pain the anaesthetic was still hiding from me. My arms were still behind me, still bound by a cable tie. My squeal of discomfort alerted my captors to my now awake state. Blinking, my vision cleared enough to see the men before me. One was dressed in a yellow shiny, too-tight suit with what seemed to be a matching mask , the other was in a brown overcoat. His face was covered in bandages, like he'd been in a severe fire. Perched on the top of his head was a brown hat. As he approached me, I got a whiff of sauerkraut.
"She's awake then" he sneered, "you better go tell the boss." His accomplice nodded and hurried out the door. Turning to me, he roughly grabbed my face and pulled it close to his. "Now, you'd better be a good little girl when the boss gets here, otherwise your pretty ass will be mine!"
"Now, now, Van Gough, that's no way to welcome our newest guest." My tormentor backed away, startled.
"Svengali! I.. I.. was just telling her the pecking order here..." Van Gough sounded panicked. The newcomer looked less than impressed.
