A/N - I went back and took this from a ficbit to an actual teaser. I have a lot in mind for this one, just need to sort it out and see how it goes. Reviews encouraged so I know if there in an interest or if this would be a waste of time to expand upon. Thanks! - E.R.
His mother had been missing for few weeks now. She had vanished without a trace. You hear that phrase a lot, but the police had swept the house twice for prints or any sort of sign of forced entry or proof that she had left intentionally and they had come up empty handed.
He had come home from school, expecting the teenage torture of dinner with his mother and her boyfriend of the week for his eighteenth birthday. She didn't come home after work. She didn't call. He called her work, called her friends, even called a few of the old boyfriends that he could tolerate. No one had seen her after she had left for home.
He had skipped his own high school graduation only to have some scrawny Fed show up to ask some really strange questions. The Fed, Agent Brown, inquired if he smelled sulfur or if he had noticed any cold spots in the house. Then said that if he needed to talk to call him or someone named Mr. Fizzles and left his card.
He found himself dreaming about strange people with black eyes. Not just the iris, the sclera as well. Even the people in his dreams that he knew would have shiny black wished all of this didn't have a familiar feel to it, but it just seemed to spark an itch in the back of his mind. Was it something that happened in a past life? Was he just going crazy?
He awoke from one of these strange dreams with a start. Had he actually heard a noise, or was it just the dream? The dark haired teen jumped up out of bed and scrambled to the closet where he knew the shotgun was stashed. He had a bad feeling of deja vu as he slowly headed down the stairs to the living room.
"Mom?" He paused on the stairs and asked tentatively to the darkness. "Is that you?"
No answer came back. He waited a few beats more and then slowly made his way to the first floor.
He went from room to room, silently in his bare feet. After coming back around to the stairs, he leaned against the wall and sighed to himself. "Ben, man, you're losing it."
He barely got the words out when a flash of movement came at him from the stairway above. A black clad attacker dropped down from the stairs and kicked his gun out of his hands before he could even blink.
Ben found himself pinned against the wall by someone in a ski mask with a large blade against his throat; it was sharp enough to already be stinging into the skin on his neck. He eyed the gun, he could see it, but it might as well still be in the upstairs closet for the good it would do him now.
"Don't even think about it." the intruder growled as they kicked the shotgun further away.
Ben's eyes watched the shotgun skitter under a table, but before he could even look back at his attacker, he found something wet being tossed into his face. A bit got up his nose and he choked a second, his attacker still effectively holding him still against the wall.
He licked his lips. "W… water? Why did you just pour water on me? What do you want?"
Suddenly, he was free, and the intruder was a good five feet out of reach. They reached up and pulled off the ski mask they were wearing and long blonde ponytail fell from it. Ben blinked a few times and rubbed at his throat where the knife and stung him.
"Who the fuck are you?!" he demanded.
"My name is Claire," she replied, "Claire Novak… and I think I know who has your mother."