I have the weirdest dreams ever. One minute I'll be in a hallway of my middle school, it will suddenly transform into the hallway of my high school. Some of the kids I knew in high school will transform into some of my old friends in Russia. Then suddenly I'm in my bedroom with my cousins about to go rob a bank. If I were to write a story about how a dream of mine went, it would look like I was on drugs or something.
I had a dream where I slipped on the way to an MMA fight and split open the back of my head, which suddenly grew into I think a tumor twice the side of my head. I'm not entirely sure. Whatever was on my head, it was huge, red, and disgusting as hell. Then suddenly I'm a kid (probably around nine or ten) with Hayley running happily up to Nana and Papa Alex's house looking forward to being smothered in a million hugs and kisses. But I still have that giant tumor on my head...Nana asks me what happened to my head...I say I fell down while I was on the swing set...Nana kisses me right on the tumor...okay, that's just nasty.
Anyway, I woke up right then and realized the tumor wasn't real and the pain was just the soreness in the back of my head. Caused by whatever struck me in the back there. I tried to reach over to feel if my head was bleeding, but I couldn't move my arms. I then realized that I appeared to be lying on my side. I also could not move my feet. I tried to move my body a little, but I felt myself pushing against a wall. I couldn't figure out for sure where I was, as everything was completely dark. What the hell was going on?
After my eyes became use to the dark, I was able to see myself enough to figure out what was going on. I was laying on my side in a cramped space with both my arms and legs tied with what felt like rope. The walls appeared to be the inside of a box. I was still wearing only my underwear.
At that moment, everything that happened at my house began to rush through my head. Richie, the other guys with the guns, and being knocked out with something. I assumed that Richie and his men were holding me captive in this box. It seemed that the guys weren't trying to kill me, but were trying to capture me like a deer in hunting season. And they succeeded. Wonderful.
When I was a kid, I always thought it would be cool if I was in one of those action movies. You know, with bad guys who laugh and make long speeches, people getting captured, tons of fighting, things blowing up, people in danger, that kind of stuff. Part of me would even want to be the one who is captured. That way I can be rescued in the end by Superman or Batman. But obviously neither of those two are coming for me, so my situation's not nearly as exciting as I had hoped. I had a lot of dreams as a kid and it had to be this particular one that came true. Lucky me.
I wanted to feel angry at the scumbags that did this to me and scared about what might happen to me, but the one thing I was thinking of more than anything else was my two little girls. Where were they right now? Were they safe? Are they at the house alone? Did the scumbags capture them as well? Will I ever get to see them again? Were they even still alive?
All these questions made me scared, angry, and upset all at once. What sucked the most was that I knew that I was not going to get an answer to any of these questions for a while. Last time I checked, I'm trapped in a box with no other person and it didn't seem the box was going anywhere. And when you don't know anything that's going on, it's practically impossible not to think of the worst of the worst. For all I knew, those scumbags might have actually killed my two little angels...or maybe even worse...
I very rarely cry. Honestly, I think the last time I cried was when Anna left. But I could hardly stop the tears that began to drip down my face. When you're not one hundred percent certain if your children are alive, it's not at all a pleasant feeling. And when there's a good chance that they may not be alive, it's the worst feeling in the world. It feels like somebody is reaching into your chest and trying to tear your heart out completely.
I stayed inside the box in that position for what felt like the longest time. I just laid on my side, unable to move my arms and legs, unable to really move at all, doing nothing but thinking terrible thoughts for what felt like several hours. It was hands down the worst several hours of my life. With all the crap that has happened in my life, that's really saying something.
I really, really badly needed to pee at one point. But since I knew that I wouldn't be making it to a restroom anytime soon, I didn't even bother trying to hold it. There was no point. As disgusting as it was peeing myself, I hardly cared that I did. Honestly, I could hardly care about anything at that moment. I hardly cared that I was in a box. I hardly cared that I could barely move. I hardly even cared about my own life. The only thing that I cared about at that moment was my two little girls. My cubs.
You better not have hurt my angels, I thought angrily as the tears continued to run down my face. You better not have laid a finger on them. If I find out that you harmed them in any way, I won't rest until I make sure that you suffer the most painful death imaginable. That's a promise.
I eventually heard what sounded like people talking and laughing. Then I heard footsteps approaching the box. My whole entire body became as stiff as a block of wood.
From outside the box, I heard the words: "Let's get started."
As the box opened, my heart practically stopped.
Several arms grabbed me and lifted me out of the box. With my arms tied together and my legs tied together, trying to fight back was pointless. I've never exactly been the greatest at headbutting. I had no choice but to just let these guys lift me up and place me on a cold metal chair.
I looked around the room. I appeared to be in some sort of old tool shed. There were several tables covered in various tools and boxes all along the floor. The room looked like it had never been cleaned in the slightest and it reeked of oil and dust. I honestly would much rather have been at the disgusting coffee shop. At least the floors there are swept regularly.
A man with filthy brunette hair and a black shirt walked up to me. He stared at me with this grin for the longest time. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't planning on treating me too kindly. My insides were in knots.
"Greetings, Mr. Alex Cooper," the man said in a very casual tone of voice. It's like he was trying his hardest to keep his friendly tone going. Look dude, when you've got my arms and legs tied and placed me in a box for several hours, I can kind of tell you're planning on torturing me in some way. I could see it coming from a mile away.
What I didn't see, however, was how creative their plans were for me. That really threw me off guard.
"The name is Dominic," the brunette man continued. "And I will be your instructor from this point forward. You see, from what Richie told me, you were giving him and his men a hard time back in Dallas. Richie's been a pretty good friend of mine for quite a long time, so I don't really like that. I very gladly took on the assignment of teaching you how to respect your elders. Welcome to Dominic's School Of Respect For Beginners."
Dominic then patted me on the cheek and said: "101."
That was the worst title I've ever heard, I thought. You should be ashamed.
Oh, and apparently I'm not even in Dallas anymore. That makes things so much better. To say I was having the worst day ever would have been the greatest understatement of the millennium.
"So here's how this is going to work," Dominic said. "Each day we're going to do three exercises. Each exercise will range from a few seconds to about a half hour. When it comes to the stress and excruciating pain you will more than likely feel from these exercises, it tends to range from very painful to 'Oh God, kill me now.' But hey, sometimes pain is the best way to help you learn, right?"
I said absolutely nothing. I mean, I was the one in the chair with my arms and legs tied. I was in no position to come off as threatening or intimidating whatsoever. What was the point in saying one damn thing? I didn't even ask about my daughters. I already knew they would laugh or probably tell me that they were already dead in order to make me feel even worse. Even if these dirtbags did tell me something about my daughters, it's not like I would find out for sure anytime soon. Until I actually see Elena and Yulia, I will remain trapped in my awful thoughts.
"But don't worry, Coop," Dominic continued. "We won't make the exercises too extreme. I mean, we can't have you dying on the first week. We want to make you last a while. You'll need to last here as long as possible to make sure you learn your lesson. If you just died after a few days, you wouldn't learn a thing. My boys and I love watching our students learn anyway."
My feet were not to far from Dominic's crotch. I had half a mind to raise my tied legs up in the air and strike him perfectly where it hurts like hell. Honestly, that's what I should have done. It would have been all too satisfying.
"This course will last somewhere between six months or five years," Dominic continued. "Perhaps even more. Depends on when we think you've gotten all the learning that you need. Or rather, after I finally become tired of teaching you. Then we'll finish it off with some sort of final exam that may be more severe then our regular exercises. Actually not may, will be more severe. Gotta' finish with a bang, right? It's just how you learn. After we're finished, we'll either put you out of your misery, hand you over to the dogs for a meal, or just leave you lying somewhere out in the woods. That way you can absorb all the information that you learned throughout the course. That may end up being a bit too severe for you and you'll more than likely wish we had put you out of your misery. Whatever we think works for you."
My whole body was in knots at that point. I would've given anything to have been able to break free from those ropes at that moment. I didn't know what this guy for sure meant by "final exam," but whatever it was, I definitely didn't want to "absorb all of it's information." Why couldn't I have just been in a Batman movie?
"So there we go," Dominic continued. "That's the syllabus for Dominic's School Of Respect For Beginners 101. Now let's get started on our first exercise. Raj, you mind grabbing the bungee cord?"
Of course. What the hell else was I expecting?
The guy named Raj (some muscly guy with a neckbeard) grabbed a bungee cord off of one of the tables. He grinned and started whipping it around. I guess to make me feel scared. I'm going to be pretty honest, I was pretty scared at that point. Until my arms and legs were untied, I was useless.
"This is the exercise I like to call 'Make Friends With Mr. Bungee.' I think you and Mr. Bungee will get along well, Coop."
More horrible names. Come on, this guy wasn't even trying. Of course, the awful name was the very last thing I was thinking of at that moment.
Raj didn't hold back in the slightest. He began to smack my back with the bungee cord like there was no tomorrow. He didn't stop or pause once. He smacked me with that cord nonstop for the next two or three minutes or so. And Raj had quite an arm on him. Though I couldn't see my back, I already knew that blood had been drawn. I wasn't paying attention to anything going on around me, but I could hear a bunch of laughter. Only the first "exercise" and already part of me wished I was dead.
Dominic did eventually say "Alright, that's good enough" but my whole back was already on fire. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even moan. All I could do was gasp several times. I legitimately felt like I was in Hell.
"Nice going, Raj," Dominic said. "I bet Mr. Bungee loves Mr. Coopey now. I'm sure Coopey will show plenty of respect if we ever bring him out again."
Dominic and the rest of the men all chuckled.
"Alright, two more exercises to go. Stefan, get me the mousetraps."
I didn't feel like I was in Hell. This was Hell. I couldn't imagine anything worse than this position I was in. I was in Hell.
I don't remember what stupid name that Dominic gave the next "exercise," mainly because all I was focused on was Dominic's men grabbing mousetraps and putting them right by my hands and feet. I just closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.
Oh man, poor Tom from Tom and Jerry. Having to feel this type of excruciating pain for comedy. I'm starting to wish you had eaten Jerry now. You deserve it after having to go through this for several years.
After the mousetraps were closed on my fingers and toes, Dominic's men kept them on for almost a minute. The pain was beyond unbearable. I hope to God I never get rats or mice in my apartment because I never want to see another mousetrap in my life.
And then it was time for the third "exercise." This one was hands down the worst of them all. Raj grabbed a pair of rusty pliers and...twisted both of my nipples...really hard. Hell, I was in Hell.
I was now howling in pain. I don't know if anyone's ever said that screaming makes you feel better, but I know from experience it doesn't. Dominic's men were all roaring with laughter. After Raj finally stopped twisting my nipples, I began moaning and wailing for at least another minute and a half. I began to feel tears in my eyes again.
"What a great start!" Dominic said as I continued to howl. "I think you're going to do quite well in this course, Mr. Cooper. We definitely started off light, but that's too be expected for the first day. By the time we get to that final exam, you'll definitely be ready, Coop. But that's our three exercises for today. I'll go ahead and let you get some rest. See you again, tomorrow!"
The men then grabbed me and tossed me back in the box. I was in so much pain that I didn't even squirm.
After I was back in the box, Dominic and the rest of the dirtbags continued to talk and laugh for a few more minutes. They then left the room and I was once again left in complete silence. Just me and my thoughts. My horrible thoughts.
Dominic said that he would "try to make me last" for five years, but I doubted I could last a week with this crap. I refused to last a week dealing with this crap. He had said this was "starting off light." What more creative "exercises" did this psychopath have planned in his sick mind? I refused to find out.
I began to think about Elena and Yulia. I still had no idea where they were or if they were even alive. And as long as I'm stuck as a torture slave, I wasn't ever going to find out. I would just be stuck in this tool room being a tortured guinea pig only left with assumptions about where my daughters were. Part of me wondered something that made me feel even more pain than what I had endured in those three exercises combined. Was Dominic or Richie doing something...similar to my daughters?
Using all my strength, I began to pull on the ropes with my arms and legs.
"I'm getting the hell out of here," I said aloud. "I'm getting the freaking hell out of here."
The ropes were pretty damn tight, but I knew they could only handle so much pressure. And I was not going to quit until I used enough pressure to break free. Even with all the pain I was in, I refused to quit. I was getting out of there. These guys were going to wish that they had never even met me.
"You just wait, Dominic," I said as I pulled on the ropes, which were hardly budging right then. "I'm going to end this 'course' a little early. I guess you can say I'll be getting my GED. Be prepared, you piece of crap. I'm going to give you my own 'final exam.' And I highly doubt you're going to pass."
As I continued to pull on those ropes, I began to think of my daughters. I once again worried that one of these scumbags was doing something similar to them. I pulled on those ropes so tightly that I thought my arms and legs were going to break.
"Papa's coming for you, girls," I said aloud in Russian. "He's coming for you right now. Papa loves you so much. He'll be with you very soon."
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