You shut the door of your car -
Somebody's... nearby.
Obviously no one near the pay phone ya pulled up to. Not a soul or a car in sight. But you're being watched. You're sure of it. But the strip mall and sidewalk are obviously deserted. Somehow this doesn't feel right. Just get ou-
"OWWWW." You jump back - what the hell? A bee? You slap your neck, find something... stuck. A bug?
Yank it out. No... a little arrow. A dart?
Everything starts to...go out of focus. No. Way.
You get hold of the door handle, reef up on it. Hurry!
Dizzy. Sliding down, on one knee, face against the paint. Oh shit. Shake your head, get your legs under ya.
Jab - a poke, against your left side. Not like a dart. Fingers. Another one. There -You drop again, turning away... leaning back against the car door -
Runnin' up your side! Like a hand, or somethin'! Recoil hard, hiss in a breath. Everything looks blurrier, but there's nobody near you. You're sure of it.
The hand is still there, roamin' around. Nobody.
Shot with a fuckin' dart... you flail wildly, like you're drunk. At nothing. You yell loud, slurring the word. "Hullll... Hhh -"
Both sides. On both your sides, like fingers, squeezin'. A bunch of chuckles bust out of you, and you thrash around. Make an all-out effort to get to your feet.
Still nobody else here! You fall over on your side.
A door. The car, opening. Oh good, you're getting away... Except that you're on the ground, and the door's opening above you. By itself?
The car and the sky are spinning. You're being lifted, by your arms. No, that can't be. You're still alone...
A last wave of fuzz blurs everything.
Hot.
Thirsty.
Itchy, all over. Go to scratch... but you can't.
Turn over? Stuck.
The sun is bright. You're outside, on blacktop - the parking lot. No...
Is this rope?
You're buried in rope! Mummy-wrapped, all over, with a shitload of thick nylon... cord. Move your neck, but it's not easy. You can't open your mouth. Knot, under your chin? Apparently your... mouth is tied shut.
Laying on asphalt in the hot sun. There are doors...
It looks like the back side of a strip mall, maybe? Empty fields all around. This is nowhere near the pay phone you'd stopped at. No fields there...
You twist and try to yell. Nothing. Somebody dumped you back here?
There's a lot of trash. Are these buildings occupied? Try harder to sit up, or roll... hollering, but it's not very loud. Wh-
A door opens. Nearest one.
Nobody's there.
It keeps swinging open. You're staring. No way. Definitely no one there. The door stops.
Dragging sound, metal -
Whoa.
Something's coming. A couple inches off the ground, dragging. You squint harder, lifting your head...
A big... snap hook? Something like a marine hasp. On a cable.
You're wrestling harder -
The hook is here - Tug. Tug tug. Pulling between your feet. It's been hooked on the rope that's... What's that? Metallic...a faint clacking sound.
The cable's getting taut.
You slide toward the doorway. Oh no -
Twisting for all you're worth, trying to yell... Can't even roll over. No sign of anyone to hear ya.
Inching closer to the dark... room. Closing the gap, clacking sound not even pausing...
Can't see a thing in there.
Coming up on the threshold, the cable reeling you in smoothly -
Your feet bump over the bottom of the door frame. The ratcheting continues.
You're in.
The door closes. It's pitch-black in here, dusty. Still sliding -
Through... another doorway?
You stop. This room's door closes. No more ratcheting.
You try to slip the ropes... for a long time.
You squint. You feel woozy. This isn't home. Where... Wasn't there rope? Wrapped around you? None now -
No clothes! Not much light in here, but you can see that much. Somebody stripped you.
Must be inside - the dooway, where the cable was... coming from. Now you're anchored, spread out. You tug, squirm around. Thick, heavy... cuffs.
Slight sound, metallic. Clinking. You look hard, crane your neck - chains. Cuffs. Fuckin' spread-eagled.
You're pissed.
This is insane. Pull and yell. Pull hard, for a long time.
Nothing. Can't turn your feet at all, they won't even bend. Twisting is out of the question. Can't arch your back.
This is worse, somehow. Bad enough being tied up and outside - but in here...
There's a window to the left. You yell more. The glass is painted over, a muddy orange. A light shining on it, but from below. Can't be sunlight... So it doesn't - just an interior window, to another room? Is there sombody there, after all?
The walls are covered with something bulgy. Ceiling and floor. Padding.
There's some kind of mat under ya. A little pillow. Your wrists are positioned just above your head. You can't reach 'em with your teeth. The cuffs gotta be leather. Definitely got ya...
You yank as hard as you can. "Fuck!"
No response.
Trying to shift up on the pad, to get your teeth closer to the cuffs. Legs aren't gonna budge -
Something cold touches your left side. You jump a mile -
Oh. A bottle, next to your ribs. Must've touched it when you shifted. Looks like water...
Another one's in the air.
Floatin', like it's being carried over. This does not... make sense.
The seal cracks open. There's no hands, there, opening it. Or wires, or anything. The cap twists off, and the bottle tilts down. All by itself. Real spooky.
You're dry as a bone, though. It turns out to be water. Suck it down, then the other one, staring as it rises and opens...
They drift away.
The light increases. Doesn't do much to lighten the room, though.
A big shadow - blurry shape. Getting smaller, moving away from the light, up... shrinking.
Pointy shape. Familiar.
Is that a branch? Or a paddle?
What the hell?
The shadow disappears to the left. You start pulling at the cuffs again -
And see movement, right over your face.
There's a big white feather, hanging in midair.
Magic.
"Awh- no way."
It's coming down. Why the fuc-
"Listen, I don't wa- you, uh, can't..." Dumb. Real dumb. Of course it can. You can't stop it.
So what's it gonna do? Dust ya?
And then you remember the mystery hands, last night. On your sides.
"Awww, no." Your heart starts to race. Well, you just gotta get loose. Except, you can't. Oh, fuck, it can't -
It flicks across your nose.
"Get outa here!" Tuggin' on the chains like a madman, all spread out here, pinned down...
Flitting - across your cheeks. You throw your head around, and it follows easily. You make a faint moaning noise. The tip traces under your chin, up and down your neck. This is insane. Or you are. Or you soon will be, if there's more feathers where that came from -
You're giggling. In desperation, trying to bite it, and it jumps out of reach, darting right back down. Probing the tendons and back of your neck.
"Noooooo-"
Into your right armpit! You can't turn away or buck... arching doesn't work.
Chuckling, now. Steadily.
Can't be...
One nipple, then the other.
"Naah nah hah staa staaapuhhahhaaah-"
Ribs, sternum, belly button. You can't stand it. Cuffs and chains. Unbearable.
Foreskin oh shit... You roar, goin' berzerk-
Dusting over your balls.
Making you whoop. You're looking around frantically. And there's something different. There, behind the window.
A hand. No arm, or body. Just a huge... shadow of a hand.
The feather is creeping - along the inside of your thighs, toward your butt crack -
"Stop ih hih hieee heeee pleeeheehahheeeeze helpaaah haaaah staaap it maheyheyyheeheyk it stop awwah hahhah heh heeeee heh helLLLLLpp..."
And the shadow goes away. To the left, out of view. Gone, no help - The feather is workin' your legs now, poking under your knees, gliding down your shins and up your calves... and you're loud, can't help it. Eyes watery, and the feather lifts off -
Rising up... and heading for your feet. Your fuckin' feet, immobilized-
"NOOO!"
Overhead. Over your face, a yard above -
It's a hand.
No - is it a glove?
Black. Really shiny, even in a dark room like this.
The feather starts on your soles - and you jump big, and bawl... and squeal. The flitting and tracing is like way, way too much of a good thing. If you could only get your feet away from it -
Pressure... is it on your feet? Shoes? Not socks... Very slippery. At least the feather stopped. Your eyes are watery, and you blink -
Other gloves. More gloves, covering up your feet. Hugging tight. They've got ahold of the bottoms of your feet, and the feather's trying to poke under, but they're blocking...
"Yeah! Oh fuck, thank you, yeah..." But this is not the kind of help you had in mind. It's kinds disturbing -
The damn feather hops back up your right leg - and more fingers make themselves known. As the tickler moves up and around, they get in its way, landing and letting go, and you jump without wanting to -
Wait! There's gloves all over the place. Sidling up, ready to cover - thighs, crotch, belly, all up and down your sides.
The first glove you saw is moving, finally. Floating down, no hurry. Down, and - oh, yeah, it's after the feather! Trying to ca-
Got it! Crunching it! You can hear it snap.
"Thank you oh shit thanks..."
That glove floats away... and you let our head fall back, suck in some air. Whew.
And nothing happens. Which is okay...
Except the gloves, they haven't let go of your feet yet. Huh?
"Uh. It's gone. Thanks."
Behind the window - the shadow's back. Big shadow-glove, fingers spread... Not encouraging, somehow. Almost sinister. And why haven't they let g-
Wha? Under. Slick fingers... clamping under each knee.
"Hey -"
More. Finding your ribs. And settling way up on your thighs.
" No... "
On your belly, and heavy on your hips. You can't move. This is too impossible.
Creeping behind your neck, around each bicep. Each cuffed arm. And your calves. And your pits -
" Please. Don't..."
The silhouette turns a little... and makes a fist -
And fuck! They're goin' at it! Not messing around. Sensation, way too much, all up and down ya. Everyfuckinwhere.
"Noaaaaawaaahaaaahaaaaaoooooo...," but your bark dissolves into a real lusty howl. Squeezing... rubbing you, just enough, firm and not enough to cause pain. This is worse. It's like it feels so good, so total, you can't take it. Beatin' the shit out of you would be so much... easier to take -
You thrash uncontrollably, and it doesn't do a damn bit of good.
The feel of 'em slams through ya nonstop.
Howling.
When you get dizzy, they just hold and squeeze slower... until they get ya squirming again. And they rev it back up.
You have no idea how many times they've backed off just enough, and dug in again. They could've been on ya for an hour, or ten.
Too tired - hell, too intent to toss and turn.
Whooping a lot. You just fuckin' howl.
24may98