Dark Chemistry |18+| (Under editing)

7 || Kidnapped

NATALIA

I blinked several times, trying to shake off the haze clouding my vision. The lights around me were harsh, almost blinding, and my head throbbed like I'd been hit with a sledgehammer. Slowly, painfully, my eyes began to adjust, and I forced them open, squinting at the brightness. The first thing I saw was a stark white ceiling, cold and indifferent, almost mocking in its sterility.

I struggled to sit up, every muscle in my body protesting. My limbs felt like lead, heavy and uncooperative. My mind was foggy, thoughts sluggish, but as I finally managed to prop myself up against the headboard, the reality of my situation hit me like a freight train.

I had been kidnapped. That motherfucking bastard had kidnapped me.

Panic gripped me, its icy fingers wrapping around my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I threw myself out of bed, but the sudden movement sent a sharp, searing pain shooting through my skull. I gasped, clutching my head as it pounded violently, each throb echoing like a drumbeat inside my skull. I had no idea how long I'd been out, how long I'd been unconscious, but the fear-the bone-deep, primal fear-was immediate and all-consuming.

I needed to get out of here. I needed to escape.

Frantically, I looked around the room, my eyes darting from one corner to the next, searching for any sign of a way out. The room was unfamiliar, two times larger than my bedroom at home, with furniture that screamed wealth and luxury. The bed I'd been lying in was a queen-sized monstrosity, its comfort almost obscene in this nightmare. A large balcony dominated one wall, with flower-laden plants swaying gently in the breeze. The sweet scent of blossoms crept into the room, their fragrance doing little to calm the storm of terror raging inside me.

Two doors stood on opposite sides of the room-one likely leading to a bathroom, the other a closet. The door to get out of the room was locked from inside. I hope to escape bubbled inside me.

And when I was about to get up and run then I saw them.

Two hulking men walked in the room from the balcony-they might be hiding in the balcony- their eyes locked onto me, cold and unfeeling. They hadn't moved, hadn't made a sound, but the moment our gazes met, a chill ran down my spine. They were terrifying, dressed in all black, their tanned skin covered in so many tattoos that only added to their menacing appearance. One had his eyebrow pierced, the other had studs in his lip and ears. Their presence was suffocating, their dark, dangerous aura seeping into every corner of the room, making the air thick and heavy.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my voice coming out rough and hoarse, a far cry from the strength I wanted to project. My head still pounded, the pain almost unbearable, but I pushed it aside, clinging to the thin thread of defiance that was the only thing keeping me from completely unraveling.

Their eyes narrowed as soon as I spoke, and without a word, they started moving toward me with slow, deliberate steps. My heart lurched, and I pressed myself against the headboard, the wood digging into my back. I wished it would swallow me whole, make me disappear, anything to escape the looming threat of these men.

My breath came in quick, shallow gasps, fear clawing its way up my throat, threatening to choke me. I wanted to scream, to run, to fight back, but I was too terrified to do that, frozen in place as the men reached me.

And then, in one swift movement, they grabbed me.

I cried out, thrashing wildly as they hauled me out of bed, their grips like iron, unyielding. "What the hell are you doing?" I screamed, the words ripping from my throat, raw and desperate. My voice trembled, thick with the fear that coursed through me like poison.