A kidnapping like none other.

In which our heroine gets kidnapped like usual.... or not.

‘Mother is going to go insane when she realizes I’m gone.’  Artemisia thought to herself as a shadowy figure threw her over it’s shoulder. No doubt she would be taken down a dark alley, then to his secret lair or something like that. Then her kidnapper would tear off his mask and go into an annoying rant about his plot to destroy/ take over the world and such and such, after which a pretty boy blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a gleaming white smile would come and save the day! Oh how she hated that person…. Or people actually. No two rescuers had ever been the quite the same. She groaned as her current kidnapper took a turn into a dark alley.

“Shouldn’t you be…. screaming or something right now?” A female voice that she assumed was her kidnapper’s asked her. The black-clad criminal seemed to be surprised by his victim’s silence.

“I should, but I just don’t feel like it.” She explained to her, a weary tone in her voice. “But after the fifteenth or sixteenth time I just can’t find the motivation to scream.”

“Uh… Ok?” It appeared to be the kidnapper’s first time. Even though she was fast enough to be an Olympic runner, she didn’t appear to know where they were going. And the usual professional criminals that Artemisia was accustomed to, obsessed over planning and getting everything right. This guy was definitely a newbie.

“How much longer until we get to your secret lair or whatever you might call it? This is not a very comfortable position, believe it or not.” The kidnapped asked her, getting tired of the rough ride down the alley. Not to mention the fact that her captor was most likely staring at her back side. Unfortunately for Artemisia, if the criminal was staring at her rump it wouldn’t surprise her. She’s been stared at by men, women, people who weren’t quite one nor the other, even flaming gay men would sneak a discreet peak down her shirt when they thought she wasn’t looking.

“I don’t know” She stated simply, bringing the captive’s mind to a stop. How could she not know? All the other kidnappers knew the exact amount of time until their arrival down to the nanosecond and yet this one had no idea….

“Umm…. Alright then, where are we going?” Artemisia asked. She has to know the destination at the least.

“I don’t know” The kidnapper stopped at a dead end and took a quick scan of the surroundings. Artemisia screeched, panicking at the thought of being taken by a woman who had absolutely no plan, what-so-ever.

“WHAT! You captured me without knowing where you were going to take me!? What sort of criminal are you!?” She always had a weird sense of security in knowing that someone had a plan, that some one knew where they were going. Even though the plan was that of her enemies. If her enemy has a plan she could plan off of that plan and find a way out. Or a prince charming would rescue her before she could carry out her plan…. . But when there’s no plan there’s no possibility for anyone to crush it.

“I know where I’m taking you…. I just don’t know how I’m getting there.” She ran a gloved hand over the brick wall blocking the path.  Light footsteps echoed through the alley, causing Artemisia to lift her head. She watched as a long shadow stretched across the grungy concrete floor. Whoever it was was getting closer and she was 114% sure of who it was. A prince charming.

“Not him already.” The shadowy figure muttered in annoyance before making an unnaturally high leap to the top of the wall, then another leap to the ground behind it.

‘Well, at least this time I might have a chance to save myself instead of having one of those idiot prince charmings doing it for me.’ She decided to ignore the inhuman jump and looked at the bright side of not being rescued…. Yet anyways. If she’s learnt anything

from the dozens and dozens of hold-ups, nearly fatal accidents, and odd situations it was that a prince charming would always be at the bottom of the cliff, waiting to catch her, that imbecilic love-sick look in his eyes. Oh how she hated the princes. She tried to keep from vomiting at the thought of having to see one of them again. Her lunch wasn’t very good going in and she really didn’t want to taste it going out. Plus, all of the up and down motion made it feel like her kidnapper was skipping, as if the anonymous criminal wanted her to hurl. The assumed woman’s hard shoulder bone cut into her stomach, making it harder to keep her insides inside.

Unfortunately for Artemisia, this happened nearly every week. She wasn’t at all surprised when a black-clad figure appeared in her room at the dead of night and took her from her bed. In fact she was expecting it. She also knew her kidnapper would appear a split second after she changed into her pj’s, and carry her out the window via rope.

The sixteen- year-old girl has had to put up with these random life and death situations for as long as she could remember. They literally started at the beginning of her memory…. If that makes any sense, if it doesn’t I apologize I can’t think of a better way to put it. It all began when she was five, and was nearly drowned by what she assumed was a sea-monster. Then after that she almost fell off of  the edge of the grand canyon, was held hostage by a bank robber, went into a coma after eating a bad apple, was locked into the highest room of the tallest office building, nearly eaten by a n elderly lady, and other slightly cliché life or death scenarios. She’s had to put up with these strange happenings for eleven years and she knew they weren’t going to end any time soon. Poor Artemisia could write a book about her run-ins with the ‘bad guys’. (She would’ve if I hadn’t beat her to it) But she had no way of knowing what was about to happen next.

I guess that’s enough rambling about our main characters past. Let’s get back to the present.

“OH! There it is! I knew I’d find that portal sooner or later.”  The kidnapper exclaimed, making Artemisia wish she had eyes on her butt. Portal? That has to be a new one…. Maybe it’s some sort of nickname for her secret underground lair, like the bat cave. But what kind of villain forgets the location of her hide out? It makes n-

Her thought was cut off by a sensation that she could only identify as being drunk. The funny thing is, the sensation wasn’t anything like the act of drinking more than one’s share of alcohol, but more like ones imagination of being quite literally drunk would feel like.

 If you still don’t understand what that means then that’s just too bad I can’t make it any clearer.

Our main character soon found herself sprawled out on the floor of what looked like the night sky…. But that’s silly! The night sky doesn’t have a floor. It’s the sky!

‘Whooth?’ She thought to herself, caught in a daze. It was a fuzzy, haze-like daze. As if someone took out her brain while she slept then filled her skull with dandelion fluff and a pleasant autumn breeze. She was just conscious enough to feel the floor beneath her but not conscious enough to figure out if she was standing against it or laying down on its surface. The floor felt a lot like solidified liquid of some sort. It was cool against her skin like cold lemonade down her throat on a hot summer day.

“Mrrrow, I’m so sorry. I forgot about the mind numbing quality of the porrrrrtal“ The voices surrounding her began to fade in as her mind un-fuzzed itself.

“Don’t worry Miranda, mistakes happen to the best of us. You’d better get to lunch before class lets out. You know how packed the north hall gets on Fridays.” A kind sounding male voice chuckled, followed by a quick skittering sound. Similar to the sound of a dog running across polished tile. The skittering faded as the animal making it ran father away.

“Hello Artemisia, I’m terribly sorry for the kidnapping but I promise it won’t happen again. You’re safe here.” The male voice told her her, causing a slight echoed in the room.

“Mnalck?” Artemisia replied with an odd noise that might be considered a word in some dimension somewhere on the edge of reality. All of the fuzz in her mind had settled into the language and movement part of her mind, so she could understand the voice and her surroundings as well as any human might but couldn’t move if someone moved her body for her. And talk? HA! That’s a good one.

“This all must be incredibly confusing for you it was for me. But it’ll make more sense after your mind clears. Until then, just rest and try not to think about anything.” Footsteps reverberated through the ground, letting her know that the owner of the voice was leaving the room.

Author's Note

First attempt at writing.... Or at least the first semi-successful attempt so far. Don't go easy on me. Be as harsh as you wish. But no meaningless flames, if you feel revolted by this story for a legitimate reason then go ahead. But I am not a fan of meaningless violence especially when written.

Reviews

[Short.Nerd]

This is pretty good for your first time.

I hope you add on to this it is really good and has real potential to be an amazing book. I love this part: Poor Artemisia could write a book about her run-ins with the ‘bad guys’. (She would’ve if I hadn’t beat her to it)