Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Everything was a blur, my head felt like a lump of lead. I tried to push up onto my elbows but the world started spinning and I fell back onto the cold, stone floor. Where the hell was I?

I closed my eyes against the nausea and tried to work out what had happened. I’d been at Sarah’s, playing with Jacob.  It had been dark...

The memory of the stink of chloroform came rushing back. Someone had grabbed me from behind – I’d been kidnapped — but why?

Don’t think about that, I thought just find a way out!

They hadn’t bothered to tie me up, they didn’t need to. The drug they’d used on me was almost as bad.

When I flicked open my eyes again the world was still spinning, but not quite so badly. I really needed to work out where I was. 

I could feel a wooden floor under my hands; the boards were heavy with dust. The room seemed small with a low ceiling, although it was hard to work out detail in the shadowy darkness.

Close by, a drunken three-legged chair leant against an ancient table. Across the room, I could make out the outline of a door although it might as well have been a mile away. I still couldn’t turn my head without feeling sick, standing was out of the question, at least for a while.

There had to be a window somewhere I realised. Shadows were moving, you needed light for that.  My brain was beginning to work a little faster. I could feel the sensation starting to return to my toes.

I caught the tiniest sounds; scratching of claws on wood — and shivered. Mouse or more probably a rat I thought. They liked old attics and that had to be where I was trapped. 

Then I saw it, in the side of the roof.  The small window would be far too small for a normal-sized adult to climb through... I lifted a shaking hand to my face. Climbing out of anywhere at the moment was probably not a good idea, at least not yet.

Everything hurt even more than usual, but I was alive and at least now I could move some. I sat against the wall and checked out my arms and legs for torn skin.  There was no blood, nothing broken. My sigh of relief sounded more like a sob. 

I tried standing – my knees almost buckled under me but I held onto the wall, waited for the world to right itself. Pacing up and down helped a little. Making it across to the door, it only took seconds to realize I wasn’t about to escape that way. It was locked of course and it looked brand new, thick and heavy with a metal lock that leered up at me as I rattled the handle.

Frustrated, I thumped my fist against the wood, “LET ME OUT!” I yelled and really wished I hadn’t. Almost immediately there was the sound of heavy footsteps on the other side.
There was nowhere to go. I sank onto the rickety chair and waited...

The stark white light from the corridor was blinding as the door was thrust open.  I blinked hard then groaned in recognition.

“I should’ve known it would be you,” I said.  Paul was standing in the doorway, two shadowy figures loomed behind.  I could already smell the stink of cigarette smoke. I hated it.

“So how’s supergirl feeling?” he asked and stepped toward me, blowing out a curl of smoke.

He looked so different out of the t-shirt he usually wore, although there was no mistaking the nasty looking cut on his head from our last encounter, or the sneer. 

The suit he was wearing looked so out of place in the dusty attic, he should’ve been sitting in a boardroom, or an office. As all these thoughts started whizzing through my head I began to cough, the smoke irritating my throat.

“I asked how you were,” he reached out a hand, running a finger down my cheek.

“Get your filthy paws off me,” I slapped him away. “What the hell do you want?  If you think my parents have money for...”

“Oh we don’t need anything from you girl, it’s more what you can do for us?”  A finger stroked my knee.

I slapped him so hard my palm stung.

“She’s a fierce little bitch, Paul. I can see why you chose her,” The man who spoke walked over to a dusty cupboard that I hadn’t even noticed and pulled something out.

Paul leant forward, put his lips close to my ear. I could feel his warm breath as he spoke, “Derek isn’t so patient, Phoebe. I’m the nice one. You really don’t want to get on the wrong side of these two.”

“You want me to hold her why you do this,” the third man offered.

I shivered; Derek was holding a long piece of rope.

“Don’t,” I pleaded as the other man reached for my leg.

“I know what your condition is, Phoebe,” Paul said. I don’t think your fragile skin will put up with ropes too well?  Are you going to behave?”

What choice did I have?
I nodded, defeated.

“All I want you to do is phone up Mr and Mrs Cooper at the orphanage, tell them it’s simple. They accept the offer, sign over the land in the next twenty-four hours or...”

Cold metal pressed against my head. I couldn’t breathe.
“It is loaded and I will use it...”
I shuddered from the cold, metallic touch.

“You will call them now. They will bring the signed papers to where I tell them... No trouble and no police understood?”

I tried so hard to keep my voice steady, to look him in the eye
“You really think I care what you do to me?  Take a good look at me, Paul. Why the hell would I want to carry on living like this? Just shoot me!”

There wasn’t a flicker of anything in those dark eyes. He put down the gun and reached to a pocket and pulled out a photograph.

“You know him...” it wasn’t a question.

My mouth was so dry, I couldn’t swallow. He was holding a photograph of Daniel.

From his other pocket, he pulled out a small, insignificant lighter. At a flick of a thumb, a blue flame erupted from the end.

“You may not want to live...” the flickering blue caught the edge of the photograph and flashed into life. He let it fall at my feet. I watched in horror as Daniel’s face was consumed in a ball of flame until all that was left were ashes... 
 

Edited by lindajonesAuthor

A/N Phoebe was quite brave when it came to her life but can she keep it up when Daniel is at stake? What do you think?

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