Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I barely own five dollars.
A/N: Well, I'm back. I decided to throw this story in a completely new direction. I was getting awfully bored with it. I hope you like this new…er…look…
Now that I'm all happy and cheery again, I think it's time to visit my favorite little spot. It's a little bench off the beaten path, which weaves in and out of trees in the park. I've come here since I was little. I found it on accident one day when I wondered off, away from my mom. Ever since then, it's been my little area to just think and seclude myself from the world.
As I walk along, I notice all of the old spots where I used to play hide and seek. I even find the old stump where I made out with my first boyfriend. Being here again brings out the kid in me. I can see the bench, just sitting by itself off to the side. Calling innocent people over. Well, I wouldn't exactly call myself innocent…but that's beside the point.
I sit down on the old chipped bench and suddenly remember why I've come here every year since I can remember. From where I am, I can see the small lake, filled with ducks and fish. If I look up, all I see are trees, instead of the usual skyscraper. This is probably the most secluded spot in the entire park. There's not a man-made object in site.
I smile. It's good to be calm. Wait. What was that noise?
"What do you mean you haven't heard form her?" Sydney said, as she tried to stir the chicken in the pan.
"I haven't talked to her since she left this morning. You're the last person that's seen or talked to her." Tom replied. "I'm worried."
"I'm sure she's alright. She probably just went for a drive or something. If you don't hear from her by morning, let me know." Sydney switched off the burner and dumped the chicken onto a plate.
"Yeah, I guess your right. Goodnight, Mrs. Vaughn."
"Night, Tom." Sydney clicked off the phone. "Dinner's ready!" She called.
"Who was that?" Vaughn asked as he entered the kitchen.
"Tom." Sydney said as she sat down at the table. "He said that Malorie hasn't come home yet, and he hasn't heard from her."
"I'm sure she's fine." Vaughn smiled, and looked down at his plate. "Chicken looks great, Syd."
"Let go of me!" Malorie struggled to free herself of her captor's hold.
"I think you're just fine where you are."
"Who the hell are you?" Malorie grimaced as the man shoved her into a chair and strapped her down.
"That's not very nice language, Malorie."
"You son of a bitch. Who are you?"
"This is not the time for questions." He pulled a stool up to Malorie and sat down.
"What's it time for then?" Malorie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The man reached over and brushed a piece of stray hair out of Malorie's eyes.
"Don't touch me." She whispered harshly.
The man got up and walked over to a tray. He picked up a syringe and flicked it to remove any air bubbles. He stood next to Malorie and pushed the arm of her shirt up, past her elbow, to expose a vain.
"I'm really sorry about this."
"No! Don't!" Malorie struggled, withering in the chair.
The man laughed softly and plunged the needle into Malorie's arm.
Tom knocked sharply on the door to Sydney and Vaughn's house. After a moment, Sydney opened the door.
"Tom, what's wrong?" Sydney asked as she ushered him in.
"Malorie didn't come home last night. She hasn't left a message." Tom ran his hand through his hair.
"Have a seat. I'll get Vaughn." Tom slowly lowered himself into one of the plush armchairs.
Sydney hurried up the stairs and into her bedroom. "Vaughn?"
"We have a problem." Sydney said quietly.
"No kidding." Said Vaughn.
"What?" Sydney stared down at the letter in Vaughn's hands.
"I found this while I was looking at the newspaper." Vaughn showed Sydney. "It was tucked in between one of the sections."
"Oh my God. They've got her….they've got Malorie….."
A/N: I promise this won't get too out of hand.