Noir (Tom Holland)

Three

By the time I came to, the black bag was still on my head, and I was being jostled around every now and then, giving me the assumption I was in a vehicle of some sort. My fingers traced from my neck to my chest, feeling the heavy material of a seat belt. "I'm flattered you care for my safety," I slurred, realizing that the sound of my own voice was too loud.

"Don't be too flattered. Tom said to not let any car accidents fuck you up before he does," the man quipped back. Tom, I had heard that name before. I closed my eyes and replayed the events from the last day and a half to try and remember. "Is he your boss? This Tom guy?" I asked. I recalled that my captor had told the man he murdered that Tom didn't like to be deceived, but that was the only instance his name was muttered. I received a grunt as an answer, but I didn't leave the topic alone.

As I regained my strength, I sat up straight. I lifted my hand to take the black bag off but I felt the man's hand grasp my wrist tightly. "I wouldn't do that," he warned and I left the bag alone. "So," I started, "Who is Tom and why does he want to fuck me up? I understand you, but him? Why?" "You know, for someone who's getting kidnapped and potentially murdered, you have a big mouth. Weren't you just panicking in the bathroom before all of this?" Another pang in my stomach hit me. Potentially murdered, was that the price for watching another man die? If I hadn't gasped or made myself noticeable, would I have been in the clear? Or would I still be fucked up, if not more?
"I don't know," I answered, "Would you rather have me cry and plead for my life?" "It depends on the day," he said as I felt the car slow down. It turned to my left and pulled into what I could assume was a driveway. The car stopped to a halt and the door on my side opened and I was yanked out of the car. My knees fell onto what seemed like concrete and I was dragged across the floor, breaking the skin. I yelped, but a different voice spoke up and told me to shut up. Not wanting to cause anymore trouble, I listened.

After a few minutes of getting dragged around everywhere and nearly getting dropped down the stairs, I was thrown into a chair. The black bag was yanked off me and all I saw was a binding light, sending a painful throbbing to my head. I had forgotten about getting pistol whipped and now that I thought about it, I most likely have a concussion from it. I looked around me and saw my raw and bloody knees and a dark room filled with the silhouettes of three men. My hands rubbed against what felt like rope and I realized that I was bound hand and feet.

"Are you going to cry and plead for your life now?" one of the men piped up and I squinted, seeing the tall man who kidnapped me. He was dressed in a casual black suit, like something out of John Wick and to say he wasn't attractive would be an understatement. However, my fear of getting tortured outweighed my need to be laid.

"I don't know," I said, my mouth dry, "Do you want me to?" "It would be more entertaining than watching you just sit there and ogle me." "I was not ogling you!" my voice raised in defense, not helping my case at all. "I was just trying to see what you looked like considering I've been bagged for God knows how long." The man smiled lopsidedly, "So ogling me."

One of the men walked over and backhanded me before turning to the man, "Harrison if you wanted to fuck her, you shouldn't have told Tom about your incident." My head throbbed more potently than before and I knew if that light kept shining in my eyes I would not be able to keep conscious. "I-," I began but the man who slapped me stepped forward so I shut my mouth. As if on cue, a door opened, spilling more light and the darkened silhouette of another man walked down the stairs. The scene was comparable to watching the Devil walking back to Hell. Perhaps it was the Devil.

The door closed behind him and the room was engulfed in darkness again. With one of my eyes open, I watched as the man came close to me, but I still couldn't see his face. If I wasn't so drowsy, I knew that I would be panicking by now. This was him. This was the Tom who wanted me dead for witnessing a murder.