Reposting! This story was originally 'Captured.'
Based off of Danielle's Hunter clan stories, which along with Buffy related things I rather don't own.
'Where the hell am I?' Buffy wondered. She blinked her eyes open a few times, at first scared that she might have gone blind. Everything was just... black.
Buffy raised her hand in front of her face, waving it a few times.
Finally, she gave up and began reaching around.
There was a satin-like material that felt like a small pillow above her head. She felt where it met another hard surface, about six more inches above her head. Buffy tried to put her hands up only to find she was entirely enclosed.
She kicked her feet out just to make sure. And sure enough, she was.
'Oh, my God,' Buffy thought, panicked. 'Someone has buried be alive!'
This was one of her worst fears, and here it was, coming true. Not to mention she was extremely claustrophobic to boot.
All of this spelled something very, very bad.
Buffy took a breath. Yes, she was in a coffin. She had padding underneath her. There was a pillow behind her, one that was now drenched in sweat.
'Nothing could ever possibly be worse than this.'
Buffy wanted to scream, wanted to cry. She wanted to kick herself the hell out of this box she found herself in.
'Damnit, Buffy Anne Summers. You are a doctor. You are an emergency room doctor no less! You are used to intense situations. All you have to do is be calm... and think...'
Which she began to do... remembering herself being at work. She remembered it had been a long day, she'd worked a double shift. She remembered being very tired and wanting to go home. Buffy remembered walking out of the building to head toward the parking garage her car was located at. She remembered even the details of fumbling with her keys...
Buffy took a deep breath. The parking lot, the doctor's parking lot. It wasn't far from the main doors to the hospital and there was even a patrol car that made rounds often. Ever since an incident a few years back where one of the doctors had been raped. But since then, it'd been safe and nothing else had happened. Hell, the doctor's had to use special passes to get in and out.
Buffy remembered going to her car, not even paying attention to anything, just humming along to a song that had been in her head all day.
'So what the hell happened?' she wondered some more. 'I got to my car, I remember that. I remember sitting my purse down on the hood. I sat it down then went searching for my keys...' Buffy kept replaying what she could remember over and over... until she remembered the huge hand coming up from behind her. 'I was drugged! What the hell?! They drugged me then put me in a casket? For what?'
Buffy knew that she didn't owe anyone any money so if it were about that, if someone was wanting to use her for ransom, they were just shit out of luck on that idea.
She was alone. Her mother had passed away two years ago now. And she herself only had a decent medium size pay at the hospital, and anything she had went to bills. Mostly the remaining ones from her mother.
Joyce Summers had only been seventeen years old when she found out she was pregnant. Buffy had spent her life being told her father had never been anywhere near willing to take any responsibility and was not in the picture. Joyce's own parents had even kicked her out, wanting nothing to do with her, or the child growing inside of her.
But Joyce, she didn't care. She wanted her baby. Nothing else mattered to her anymore.
Joyce had worked so hard to provide for the two of them. And Buffy always had every thing she ever need, and even some of the times she was even able to get some extra things she wanted too. All because of her mother's dedication.
She'd worked three jobs, even taking Buffy along with her at times when it was necessary. Not to mention the countless on the side tasks she'd taken on whenever possible.
But thanks to her mother's hard work, and a ton of studying, the got Buffy through school. Mostly anyway.
Things became harder once they learned of Joyce's illness. But, Buffy made it through. She had gotten herself her own job and paid the rest of her way through school and for her mother's treatments.
And she was ever so proud, never willing to let her daughter give up on her dreams. She even managed to stay alive long enough to see those dreams come true, too. She had been healthy enough to be right there for the day she graduated, and the day she started her career.
But... it wasn't long after that that she had began to get sick again, and worse this time. She became too sick to live on her own, to take care of herself. Too sick for Buffy to either.
Then, three months after that, Joyce was gone. The only family Buffy had ever knew, gone. The woman who had always been there... who had been her heart, her inspiration, her strength... gone.
And then there was all the bills, all the loans to pay back. And they ate all the money she pulled in. She'd just recently finally been able to put a tiny bit away.
'So why would anyone ransom me?'
She just didn't understand.
Suddenly, there was a thumping noise heard from outside the casket.
Startled, Buffy sucked in a breath, pressing her ear against one side of the coffin, all the while trying to ignore the nausea wanting to overtake her.
Then, the noise was heard again. It sounded like slamming doors.
Next came heavy sounding footsteps, sounding close.
Buffy scooted herself back to the middle of the box and closed her eyes tightly. She tried to deepen her breathing to make it seem as though she were still out of it.
The coffin began to move, giving off an awful metal against metal sound. Next, she felt fresh air hitting her as the lid was lifted.
But Buffy didn't move, didn't even flinch. She could feel eyes looking down at her. Inside she cringed, her scrubs were now soaked, clinging to her body.
'Oh, God,' a panicked thought rushed through her. 'Are these people going to rape me? Kill me?'
"Nice try, doc," a man's voice came out. "I heard you banging around in here earlier. I know you're awake."
But Buffy continued to lay still.
However, when a large hand began grabbing roughly at her breast she couldn't take it, her eyes flying wide open.
"See," the man laughed.
Buffy looked at him, feeling scared to death. He on the other hand just looked thoroughly amused.
"Alright now, Doc, the boss is waitin' for ya. And he's not exactly the most patient man on the planet." The man reached down and grabbed her arm. She thought he was going to yank it right out of the socket as he began dragging her to the edge, then let her feet drop onto the ground.
Buffy swayed and was sure the only thing keeping her up was his hand remaining grasping her. Her stomach was doing flip flops from all the sudden movements. After a moment, Buffy's hand went flying to her mouth and she tried taking a few deep breaths.
Anything to keep her from vomiting.
"It's from the drugs," the man said. "I had to give you quite a bit, you were a fighter. But no worries, you'll be okay in a bit. But, as I said, boss is wanting to talk to you." So with that, her returned to practically dragging her through the room.
The next thing that Buffy knew was she was being pulled through a large wooden door and into a long hallway. One that almost looked as if it were sterile.
Next, she was taken through another door and soon found herself even able to walk more with this strange man than just being dragged along by him. He remained his grip tight on her arm though, and she knew she'd be getting some massive, ugly bruises from this whole ordeal.
Buffy was looking at his hand on her arm, not really having a chance to look around at her surroundings anyhow. But when she did look up, Buffy saw them stopped in front of a double pocket of doors.
The man dropped her arm and took that hand to tug down on the hem of his worn-in leather jacket. Next, he slicked back his hair. Once he was finished, the man one again grabbed for her arm and knocked on the door.
Buffy heard no noise from the other side at first, but then a slight murmur of voices.
After a few seconds, the doors opened and she was pushed into the room.
From the force he'd sent her in with, Buffy found herself tripping, landing on her hands and knees on the ground.
When she finally caught her breath, Buffy found the courage to look back towards him, shooting daggers from her emerald eyes.
"That was uncalled for, Forrest," a voice said.
Buffy turned her head slowly, finally getting a look at this "Bossman."
As she stared at him, he reached out a hand for her. "Come on, dear. Let me help you up. Forrest there is hardly housebroken. I do apologize for his lack of tact and of manners."
Buffy hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his hand. "Who are you?"
He ignored that. "Forrest? Have you gotten our beautiful guest here something to drink yet?"
Forrest shook his head before turning. He went over to a small stand in the room and poured her a glass of water, then even brought it over to her.
Buffy took it from him after a few heartbeats. "Thank you," she said quietly. She began sipping the cool water cautiously. She wanted to just down the entire thing but knew better. If she did that, it'd only make her sick, sicker than she already were anyway. And she kind of figured this nice dressed bossman probably wouldn't take to kindly to that.
Buffy took a few more sips then looked back at the older gentleman. "You never did answer me, you know. Who are you?"
He smiled. "It is not in your best interest to know that, Miss Summers."
"Okay," she said, finishing the rest of the water, chancing a large gulp. "Then why am I here?"
"Well that I can tell you." The man gestured her towards a small sofa. "I need your help."
Buffy sat on the edge of the piece of furniture, still holding the empty glass. "Don't you think it might have been easier, and more polite, to have just come to me and asked me? You know, rather than scaring me, drugging me, kidnapping me, hauling me here in a casket?"
He smiled again. "I believe, for the kind of help I am looking for... this was the easier way. You see Buffy, I have this... associate, let's say... who has some information that I must obtain. And soon. But, my problem is, he has been rather reluctant in sharing such information with me. I'm afraid that Forrest and his half-brother Charles have been quite rough with this man." He showed a look of disgust.
She looked at him confused. "So... you need me to help fix him up? Why not just take him to a hospital?"
"Hospitals have this nasty habit of keep records, calling in the authorities and things like that. So no, you were the perfect person for the job." The man walked toward her, taking the empty glass from her hands gently and walking over to put it back on the tray.
"And what if I refuse to do this job of yours?" She asked.
His shoulders tensed. Next, he turned slowly, making her shiver from the malice shining in his eyes. "I don't think you understand, dear girl. You have very little choice in this matter. You do what I ask, you heal this associate, no questions asked. Or, well, then I have very little used for you. And if that is the case... I would probably hand you back over to Forrest and his brother, I am sure they would love playing with you." He walked back over to her. "The last girl that faced that unfortunate circumstance... well, she didn't make it. The poor girl was raped to death, each of the men taking a side of her... if you catch my meaning... and ripped her badly. Among beating the hell out of her, too. It was a blood mess to clean up," he added with a sigh.
Buffy couldn't even start to hide her shiver of disgust. She glanced over at Forrest, he had a huge grin on his face. That grin only grew bigger when he noticed her looking his way. He licked his lips and ran a palm down the front of his pants.
Buffy closed her eyes, trying to ignore all the thoughts racing through her mind.
"So, Buffy, here is what we are going to do. I am going to have you taken to this associate and you will be given what you need to heal him. And when he was healed enough, we will have you brought right back to the same parking lot we grabbed you up from I promise, no harm will come to you, as long as you do as you are told."
"Oh. Right. Sure. I do what you want and you just let me go, huh? Just like that? So... all I have to do is what... sew up some cuts, give out some meds, then wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, I'm out of here?" she said, not believing a word.
"Yes, dear. Just like that. I honestly wish you no harm." he told her. He ran a hand over her hair and laughed as cringed away. "Oh, no, Buffy dear. I do not want you in that kind of manner."
Buffy was tired, hot and overwhelmed. She pushed a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. "What about my job? I am expected to be there. This afternoon in fact, for my normal shift. And if I don't show up the hospital is going to start looking for me, then when they can't find me..."
The man laughed. "Buffy, you give me such little credit. I have already called the hospital. You see, your father had a crisis and got in touch with you. You hadn't seen him in many years... so, of course, you felt compelled to see him. Especially when he is so ill these days. And your work? They were so sympathetic! Said to take as ong as you need and not to worry."
Buffy felt all of her hope melt away and said stiffly, "I don't have a father. I have never had one."
"Which is exactly why this long lost father routine works so well." He paused. "Now. Are you going to do as asked? Spend a few days caring for this sick man I brought you here to tend to, then go back to where you were taken from, back to your life? Or..." his head nodded towards Forrest.
"It doesn't seem like I have much of a choice, now does it?"