A Fairy Tale Prince- Chapter five

‘Bingo.’

I remember my emotions at that point being a mixture of terror, confusion, and excitement as he held that metal object against my head. I felt my body tremble and all I could do was stare wide-eyed at the staff member who was collapsed on the ground, a thick red liquid spreading from her head.

‘Turn around!’ he commanded.

I slowly turned. I heard shuffling sounds and then felt his gun press against my back. My eyes flickered upwards but there were no cameras on this side of the library. No one was going to come to help me.

‘I’m guessing you’re the young master of this place, right?’

‘Yes…Yes I am’

‘Oh what luck, I didn’t think I’d be able to get to you this easily.’ he muttered. ‘Okay, now let’s leave’

‘Leave?!’

‘Walk out of the library.’

I nodded whilst looking ahead. I then walked out of that aisle and headed towards the exit. My breathing was heavy, my heart was thundering and cold sweat trickled down my neck.

Closer to the exit. In this area there were more cameras and I could see the red light flickering underneath them. So they were working. But there were no alarm bells. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. ‘Can’t they see I’m in danger, can’t they tell something isn’t right’ I had thought.

As I left the library and entered the wide marble corridor, I hesitated, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do past this point.

There were some busy servants that passed us, nodding respectfully, then they continued on their way. I could still feel the cold metal of that gun pressed against my back. So why hadn’t they noticed anything. Confused I turned my head and looked back.

He was standing there, he was very tall, he was holding a stack of books very close to me, the books were pressing against my back. They concealed the gun he was holding underneath them in his other hand. From above the security cameras likely only saw the books and the staff generally avoided eye contact and probably didn’t notice the small black gun.

Around his neck was the ID that the woman from before had been wearing, combined with his tropical blue shirt he blended in with the other workers here. Nobody was suspecting a thing.

Noticing my eyes on him he flashed me a brilliant smile, ‘Now let’s go to your bedroom. There are no cameras there, right?’ Although he phrased it as a question from the look in his eyes I could tell it was rhetorical and he already knew that.

I gulped regardless and murmured. ‘Yes there are no cameras there.’

He didn’t respond.  So I began heading down the corridor towards my bedroom. The journey was likely short but in my mind at that time it took too long. Every second extended into an hour, every step I took was uncertain and terrified. Every worker that passed me I stared at them, begging for them to pay attention to me, to help me. No one did.

When we arrived my sweaty hands fumbled with the silver handles on the white oak doors. Open…open…open I panicked when I pulled them and it didn’t budge. Then I heard his childish laughter again as his hand went past me and pushed the doors, I blanched as they swung inwardly open.

Then I felt his hands push me into the room. I lost my balance and found myself sprawled on the floor only to look up and see him close the doors behind us.

With a dangerous stranger whose intentions remained unknown, I was now alone with him in my room, or at least that was what I thought. Then I heard, ‘So this is the kid. He’s cute.’

I turned around sharply, startled, to see a lady sitting on the edge of my bed. She had silky black wavy long hair, one of those stunning caucasian faces with a gorgeous pixie nose, plump lips, and seemingly smooth skin. Her one flaw was the jagged scar that began on the left side of her lip, ran up the side of her cheek, cut across her left eye.

She was dressed in black, wearing large leather combat boots, black jeans, and a leather jacket. That was the fist time I’d seen anyone wear so much black  rather than bright tropical clothing. Additionally it was summer, the weather was on average 30 degrees on the island, she should of been stifling hot, but she appeared unaffected.

‘That was faster than I thought, how did you get him so quickly’ her voice was raspy.

‘He came to me’ bluntly said the man.

‘Wow really?! After months of scoping out this place, monitoring the security and finally infiltrating and he came to you. That’s so boring!!! I got Michael to bring the bazooka and everything! And what about this.’ she brandished two heavy looking metal objects, I later learned they were AK-45’s, and waved them in the air, ‘I was waiting for you to mess up, then I was gonna completely total this shit hole.’

The man smiled wryly ‘I never mess up.’

The woman laughed ‘Well we only have have a 30 minute window to get out of here.’

‘You’re wrong , make that 10 minutes, I killed a worker earlier.’

‘Damn. Then we should leave now!’ she exclaimed as she walked up to me, her combat boots clicking on the floor.

I stood up at that point, maybe it was because of shock and confusion that I had been so obedient before, but by this point I had gotten to my senses enough to start running to the bathroom. There was a panic button in there.

Yet as I turned around I felt the firm hands of the man gripping my shoulder and the prick of a needle in my neck. I wondered if that was how my Mother felt every time Jamie restrained her. The world became hazy and dark.

I could only hear a crackling sound and the words ‘We’ve secured the item.’

Then nothing.

That was how I left my prison of 18 years.

 

It’s Fathers day!!! I absolutely love my Dad tons. Yesterday with my other siblings, we treated him to a movie, bowling and fun at the arcade. I completely forgot to post Chapter five because of this, but here it is now. I’ll also post Chapter 6 today.  Stay tuned.

Thank you so much for visiting Story Zone.

Plus Comment and tell me how you are feeling about the story so far.

 

 

 

Author: Alexia

I am Alexia. I aspire to be a writer, a professional writer, an amazing writer, a writer to go down in history. Perhaps a writer so popular someone might make a religion or a cult following based on my works. I want to be like my heroes, such as Wilde, Goethe or Tolstoy who will forever be remembered as classics. Since I was small I enjoyed the feeling of putting pen to paper and the subtle sensation of my fingers floating across a keyboard. I’ve always been told that I have an active imagination and would find myself making up different realities and universes where characters I invented would go on surreal, dark and epic adventures. Since then I have always wanted to share my unique tales to the masses and shock people with heart-warming or thrilling literature.

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