body was aching from being cramped in the small confines of the trunk of his car.
He looked around, the dim light from the lamp didn’t help him to see very clearly, but he could tell that he was not in the best of accommodations.
“Where are we, what are you going to do with me?’ Charles was asking very nervously.
“Shut up!” was the only reply.
Charles watched as the man went about the room doing what ever it was that he was doing, collecting things, putting things on the table. He was taking inventory of these items he started to panic at what he saw there. In front of him, on the table, were a butane torch, knives of different sizes, and what appeared to be a recording device of some sort. There were sheers and other very scary items.
Across the room was a single, bed obviously an old army cot of some kind. A door in the corner that led to a small bathroom, there was a small kitchen like area with a sink and small counter. A large, wooden bench lined one wall and was full of all sorts of tools and gadgets.
The Guardian walked over, picked Charles up off the floor, put him in the chair, looking him straight in the eyes and said, “Its pay back time.”
Chapter 13
“I don’t understand, please, what have I done? You don’t need to do this.” Charles was pleading for his life. He knew by looking at the things on the table that nothing good was going to happen, of that he was sure.
The stranger just looked at him. Those eyes were staring, drilling holes into his flesh. “You destroy lives. The young people that you have damaged, both physically and mentally will never be the same because of you.”
“You’re crazy, you have no proof, and you’ve got nothing on me.” He spat.
“I have to go out for awhile, I’m going to leave you to sit here and think about the things you’ve done. I suggest that you think really hard about it, and maybe, just maybe if I think you’re sorry enough, I may just spare your life.” At that, the stranger walked over to the table, picked up a roll of duct tape, yanked off a long piece and tore it off. He walked over to Charles, placed it over his mouth, and wrapped it around his head. He made sure that he could breath; he made sure that he was securely bound to the chair and blew out the lamp. “I suggest you think about what I said.” He turned and walked out.
“You know shit, you know that. Hey. What about my life? You think my life was so fucking great, you self-righteous son-of-a-bitch. I survived, I turned out okay, hey, hey…” His thoughts screaming through his mind, he heard the door slam and the locks being set.
Charles sat there in the dark room, only dimly lit by what little bit of light was coming through the cracks in the heavily covered windows.
He tried to wobble the chair but realized that it was securely bolted to the floor, his arms and legs had been bound and moving was absolutely, impossible. He didn’t know what in the hell he was going to do now. All he could think of was how helpless he felt and that he had absolutely no control at all.
After about an hour, his shoulders started to ache. His legs were cramping badly. Christ, he had to pee badly as well. Perhaps his captor would return before he was forced to go in his pants. First chance he got he was gonna kill this fucker, no two ways about it.
Chapter 14
The young boy was all of fourteen. His life seemed pretty well set for him. His father seemed to make good money. They never needed for anything. They lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood. For all he knew his friends and their parent’s friends all lived in a nice neighborhood.
His parents were proud of him. He always did well in school, not straight A, but always above average. The basketball team was his main passion and his involvement in the science club kept him busy. For Las Vegas, he did pretty well for a kid growing up in this Sodom and Gomorra. It was a cesspool of a rotting pit of a city. It was no place to
He looked around, the dim light from the lamp didn’t help him to see very clearly, but he could tell that he was not in the best of accommodations.
“Where are we, what are you going to do with me?’ Charles was asking very nervously.
“Shut up!” was the only reply.
Charles watched as the man went about the room doing what ever it was that he was doing, collecting things, putting things on the table. He was taking inventory of these items he started to panic at what he saw there. In front of him, on the table, were a butane torch, knives of different sizes, and what appeared to be a recording device of some sort. There were sheers and other very scary items.
Across the room was a single, bed obviously an old army cot of some kind. A door in the corner that led to a small bathroom, there was a small kitchen like area with a sink and small counter. A large, wooden bench lined one wall and was full of all sorts of tools and gadgets.
The Guardian walked over, picked Charles up off the floor, put him in the chair, looking him straight in the eyes and said, “Its pay back time.”
Chapter 13
“I don’t understand, please, what have I done? You don’t need to do this.” Charles was pleading for his life. He knew by looking at the things on the table that nothing good was going to happen, of that he was sure.
The stranger just looked at him. Those eyes were staring, drilling holes into his flesh. “You destroy lives. The young people that you have damaged, both physically and mentally will never be the same because of you.”
“You’re crazy, you have no proof, and you’ve got nothing on me.” He spat.
“I have to go out for awhile, I’m going to leave you to sit here and think about the things you’ve done. I suggest that you think really hard about it, and maybe, just maybe if I think you’re sorry enough, I may just spare your life.” At that, the stranger walked over to the table, picked up a roll of duct tape, yanked off a long piece and tore it off. He walked over to Charles, placed it over his mouth, and wrapped it around his head. He made sure that he could breath; he made sure that he was securely bound to the chair and blew out the lamp. “I suggest you think about what I said.” He turned and walked out.
“You know shit, you know that. Hey. What about my life? You think my life was so fucking great, you self-righteous son-of-a-bitch. I survived, I turned out okay, hey, hey…” His thoughts screaming through his mind, he heard the door slam and the locks being set.
Charles sat there in the dark room, only dimly lit by what little bit of light was coming through the cracks in the heavily covered windows.
He tried to wobble the chair but realized that it was securely bolted to the floor, his arms and legs had been bound and moving was absolutely, impossible. He didn’t know what in the hell he was going to do now. All he could think of was how helpless he felt and that he had absolutely no control at all.
After about an hour, his shoulders started to ache. His legs were cramping badly. Christ, he had to pee badly as well. Perhaps his captor would return before he was forced to go in his pants. First chance he got he was gonna kill this fucker, no two ways about it.
Chapter 14
The young boy was all of fourteen. His life seemed pretty well set for him. His father seemed to make good money. They never needed for anything. They lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood. For all he knew his friends and their parent’s friends all lived in a nice neighborhood.
His parents were proud of him. He always did well in school, not straight A, but always above average. The basketball team was his main passion and his involvement in the science club kept him busy. For Las Vegas, he did pretty well for a kid growing up in this Sodom and Gomorra. It was a cesspool of a rotting pit of a city. It was no place to
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