This is from my latest project with a dash of suspense. Working title is "Because Mama Said So..."
Prologue
Lanelle never thought she
would be kidnapped, and locked inside the trunk of a car. After lying in a fetal position, her legs
have begun to cramp. The pain is unbearable. She wants to cry out, but knows
that to do so will only piss off her captor. Lanelle decides to stay quiet, and
tries to breathe through her mouth. The air is thin, and stinks of gasoline and
a musty blanket that keeps brushing against her face.
The
darkness surrounding her scares her worse than not knowing where she’s being
taken. Fear trickles like the piss that ran down her legs after she was shoved
into the trunk.
Lanelle wishes she overcame
that fear, just as she wishes she could shake off the leg cramp. To move is
agony, and to remain still feels just as bad. None of it matters, because all
she can do is replay scenes and conversations leading up to the very reason she’s
in the trunk in the first place.
The
car hits several ice patches, veering from side to side. Lanelle prays that God
will be merciful, allowing both she and the driver to crash or tumble to their
deaths…anything to prevent what lies in store for her. Lanelle can feel the
slight pumping of the breaks, and the driver manages to regain control of the
car…her prayers have gone unanswered.
They
move from the smooth, cleared asphalt to bumpier, unplowed terrain the moment the
car turns off the main road. As her captor reduces speed, Lanelle knows they will
stop soon.
With
every passing moment, her doom draws closer. Sweat runs down her filthy face,
and settles into the creases of her neck. She smells the urine saturating her
pants. For whatever good she thinks it’ll do, she prays for more time.
Eventually,
the car stops. Despite the eerie quiet and stillness, she listens intently for
sounds that might give her clues of where she is. She waits to hear the
driver’s door open, but her captor doesn’t get out right way.
Lanelle
has never learned the virtue of patience. She hates waiting for a cup of
coffee, much less her own demise. Not that she wants to die, but she wonders if
this is some game her captor relishes playing with her, and will it drive her
mad before something far worse happens?
Then,
a spark of hope renews her spirit, and the pain in her leg dulls. Maybe the
reason her captor hasn’t gotten out of the car yet is because they’ve had time
during the drive to rethink things. Maybe she can plead her case. She smiles at
the possibility of saying just the right thing to inspire sympathy and a
reprieve.
Lanelle
finally hears the trunk release activated, and immediately wishes she hadn’t. Slowly,
the trunk door rises open, and she watches her own breath lift into the cold
night air.
Her captor stands before
her, staring with the same wonderment a person might possess when looking at a
struggling animal that’s been trapped.
“Please
don’t do this,” she pleads, searching her captor’s face for any sign of
compassion or remorse. “Sooner or later,
there’s gonna be a whole lotta people missing me. And they’ll come looking for
me.”
Unfortunately,
one look into the face staring down at her, Lanelle knows that her captor is
unmoved. Her faith that all will end well wanes.
“Oh, I’m gonna have a really goodtime getting
rid of you,” her captor says, leering at the caught prey. “In fact, when I’m
done, they won’t be able to find you!”
