CODENAME: LANCÆLOT
by silverluna
Chapter Six
~*~
He was completely displaced. She raked her unforgiving fingers through his once dark spikes. He winced and cringed. "You be recitant now," she hissed, drawing a gnarled finger up to her lips.
In the shattered half light half dark, he shuddered.
She brought her once soft lips down over his. He whimpered and pulled back. He couldn't go far because he was on the floor and she was over him. Her other hand was gripping a candle, whose wax was slowly decorating her fingers. She didn't cry out in pain. "You are here with me, now," she hissed in his ear.
"No," he moaned.
Her jaw tightened with annoyance. She dropped the candle.
~*~
He sat up, cold sweat plunging from his brow in the abyss. He brought his shaking hands up to his face, hiding in them. "No. Not again," he muttered. "Not again."
The humming of the muted lights woke him. He was still in the same room. He didn't know how much time had passed. He was on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest. His muscles ached from his being in such an awkward position for such a long time.
He fought tears. They had barely said anything to him, besides words and situations that went completely over his head. They had said nothing of a ransom. They had said nothing of a phone call. "Guys," Lance whispered. He wondered if they were okay; what had happened to them after he'd been taken. His heart leapt up into his throat when he realized he had no idea where they were or if they were. He realized the irony of this thought: that he didn't know where he was...or if he was going to be hurt. But, at the moment, he didn't care about himself. He wanted to know what happened to his brothers.
He felt sick thinking of their attack. He'd been the one to see the people in black first, but had immediately been silenced before he could warn his brothers. He had watched JC, Justin, and Chris all being drugged. He heard Joey call out for him to run, and then had seen Joey get punched in the stomach. Lance had almost broken free out of anger, but his attackers had dragged him in front of the half conscious four. The terror had been filling up his mouth, a raging torrent of sound violent in his ears....
Lance turned his head. Reliving the attack was bad enough. Not knowing his brothers' fate made him the more uneasy.
For a few moments, he thought of nothing. And then....there was a tapping at the door. Lance looked up, startled. No one entered. There was just a soft tapping. Lance sat up in disbelief. Slowly, he crawled towards the door. Was he really seeing...?
Through the tiny window, and eye stared in. The door slowly swung open.
Lance sat back on his knees. His lips parted and a tiny breath escaped. He felt as if his eyes were going out of focus. It can't be...can it?
A young woman stood in the doorway. Long, brown, curly hair. Brown eyes. Jeans and a T-shirt. She looked at him.
Lance shook his head, trying to clear it. No. He squinted. She was waiting for him to say something. Finally, he could hold it in no longer. "Melissa?"
~*~
"Yeah, si. I'll hold. Si," JC said into the phone. The others were looking at him, wondering. He shrugged. They looked at each other, sighing. "Donde esta Senor y Senora Bass?" JC waited. Impatiently, he tapped his foot against the floor, waiting for an answer. That's all they'd been doing for a while now. Waiting. "Yeah? I mean, si?" JC corrected, sitting up straighter. As the stranger spoke the words, JC's heart leapt off a cliff into an abyss. "Gracias por tu ayuda, Senor," he said, hanging up.
"Well?" Justin asked.
JC looked at them grimly. "No such luck. Lance's parents are absolutely unreachable. Remember how they said they didn't want to carry their cell around Mexico?"
Chris groaned. "Either that, or it could have been stolen," Joey suggested.
"True," JC said. "I tried that too and got nothing."
"It's been two days. I know my parents would want to know if—" Joey broke off before he could say the words.
"Wait," Chris began. "What about Lance's girlfriend?"
JC raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, she probably has a right to know. And, maybe she'll be able to contact Lance's parents."
JC patted Chris on the shoulder. "Good thinking." He searched through Lance's bag for his cell phone. I wish he'd been carrying this, JC thought desperately. "The number should be on here, right?"
Justin bit his lip. "Wait, C. I should be the one to call. I was giving Lance a hard time about her before."
JC studied Justin's determined face. "Alright." He handed him the cell phone. Justin looked at it, without dialing. "How do I do it?"
Chris couldn't resist snickering. "You press the buttons with your fingers."
Justin frowned at Chris. Chris stuck out his tongue. "Fine, I can see I'm not wanted here." He got up for the kitchen area.
"Do you know how to bring up the menu?" Joey said before he followed Chris.
"Huh?" Justin asked. "Oh, yeah." Justin pushed a few buttons and Melissa's number popped up on the screen.
JC left for a moment, coming back with a can of soda. He handed it to Justin, who was still staring at the phone.
"How do I do it?" Justin repeated.
"What?" JC asked.
"How do I tell her...that her boyfriend was kidnapped?"
JC sighed, his eyes flickering and trying to respond.
Justin's blue eyes frowned. He was hoping JC would have all of the answers. He started to dial.
Ring. Ring. "Hello?"
Justin took a breath. God, this was going to be so hard. "Melissa?"
"Yeah. Is this Justin?"
"Yeah."
"Is everything okay? You sound depressed or something."
God give me strength, Justin thought. "Melissa, everything's not alright."
"Why? What's wrong?"
Justin detected a hint of anxiety in her voice. He didn't want to utter these words. He didn't want to hear the tears in her voice.
"Justin?"
"Melissa, are you sitting down?"
"Yes! What is it? Tell me!"
"It's about Lance."
"What?"
Justin pulled the phone away as she snapped it in his ear. "He's...he's missing."
"Missing? What do you mean?"
"Melissa, some stuff happened. We don't know where he is..." Justin was trying to hold back his own tears. Trying to collect his thoughts. "God. This isn't easy to say, but—"
"Tell me!"
"Lance was abducted." There was silence on the other end of the line. "We—we already called the police...and they're looking into it," Justin lied to comfort her.
"Is—is this some kind of sick joke?"
Justin bit his lip. "No. Lance isn't here. But we're gonna get him back."
He could tell she was trying to keep her voice from trembling. "You...promise?"
"This I promise you," Justin whispered.
Chris, Joey, and JC kept the TV low, flinching as they watched Justin try to work things out. When Justin finally hung up the phone, he looked grim and was pale. They eyed him. "I didn't know how to say it," he moaned, plopping down on the couch.
Chris patted his knee. "You did fine." Much better than I coulda done.
"She says she's going to fly out as soon as there's an available flight. She said she'll try to call Lance's parents."
"How'd she take it?" JC asked gently.
"How'd we take it? She freaked out. She was asking me all these questions and I didn't know what to say."
They all sat there, not knowing what to do.
"Okay," JC began, muting the TV, "let's go over this again. There's got to be something we're missing...."
~*~
He repeated it.
She smiled. "Peekaboo I found you."
Lance thought this was odd coming from her, especially in this situation. His vision blurred momentarily. "Melissa? How did you get here?"
She touched his shoulder. Her hand was like ice. "I came to save you. Let's get out of here."
He tried to look deep in her eyes, but she kept turning her head. "Melissa?" He was so puzzled. Her hand slipped from his shoulder into his hand. Icicles chilled Lance from within.
"Come on!" She pulled him out into the hallway, which was, to Lance's surprise, empty. He didn't even see any security cameras.
He didn't know where she was taking him. A sudden thudding above his left eye caused him to stumble. His imagination twisted the white walls. He swore he saw blood running down, pooling on the floor....
"Hey, what are you doing?"
He looked up from the ground. A blurry figure was hovering over him. It was coming closer. He couldn't place the voice. He was completely displaced. She raked her unforgiving fingers through his once dark spikes. He winced and cringed. She brought her once soft lips over his. Lance felt an aching sensation in his chest. He pulled back, blinking several times to clear his vision. "Say my name," he demanded.
The figure stared quizzically at him.
"Say my name," he repeated.
Her lips trembled but she couldn't form the word. Instead, she giggled. She said, "Hey lover, why the gun? Hold on, I'm almost there. It's too late, you killed the trust. Don't act so unaware." Lance stared at her, horrified. She continued: "So why are you so destructive? Do you realize what you've done? You can't bring it back to life now. What are you running from?"
Lance's green eyes reflected fear in the sharp blade she pulled out of her jacket. She advanced on him. Blindly, he struggled to his feet, paralyzed with feelings he hadn't even known a person could experience. Unknown ghosts attempted to pull him back down. He brushed back their cobwebs. He began to run. He didn't know which way was the right way.
He heard the click-click of high heels on the floor. Following him. He heard a voice say: "Peek in, sneak about. I'm gonna snoop and find you out. I've caught you, your hands are red. Now I'm your brokenhearted detective...." This was followed by broken laughter.
Lance brought his hands up to his eyes. His hands were covered in blood....
A lightning bolt went through his head. Jagged, it enlodged in his body, splitting him in two. His scream of absolute pain echoed through the hallways....
Marching. He heard marching in his head. Tiny soldiers walked through his brain. They wore confederate uniforms. Magnolia. Magnolia-scent was everywhere. Like perfumed entities encircling his head like a crown.
A cemetery. Magnolia slipping from fingers. The writing on the headstone was obscured. Ghosts without faces screamed. His vision blurred.
She put the knife away. Standing over Lance, she observed him as he curled himself into the fetal position. His eyes closed. His cheeks wet with tears. "Well, LancÆlot." Her dark eyes flashed. She raked her hands through her jet hair. His tears slipped down to the floor, each landing in a different place. "Isn't it beautiful?" she went on. Lance didn't move. She toed him with her high heel.
He grunted. "Witch," he muttered.
She caught this. "What?" she asked, bending over him.
Lance sprang up, lunging at her. "I said—"
She reacted quickly. She rested her knife under his chin.
He stopped, pulling back. His fingers hit a pool of tears and he slid.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" she menaced in his ear.
Through his fear, anger shone. "You can go to hell, you piece of—"
In his sudden moment of defiance, Lance was silenced by someone grabbing him from behind. A large hand clamped down over his mouth. Before Lance knew what was happening, he was being dragged to his feet. An ax of pain sliced through his mind as his arm was twisted behind him. New tears came.
"Little Flower," Alexander said from behind Lance.
She got to her feet. She was smiling in a sadistic way. "He was just being cute."
"It's started?"
"Oh yes." The smile widened.
Lance stared at the blood-red of her lips. God, what have I gotten into?
"Does he need to be restrained?"
She nodded. "For a time. To break him."
Alexander nodded, feeling Lance's whole body shudder.
No! No! Help me! Someone help me! Lance's inner voice echoed through his brain. No one heard his silent screams...except the faceless ghosts....