DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
You take a deep breath and try to gather your thoughts. “Think, just think…. You got into this, you can get out of it.” You look to the transport station, which is actually across the street opposite the buildings to your back. You look up at the ceiling. “What do I do? What do I do?” You look down to the corner. It’s completely deserted. “It’s not that far. Just to the corner, across the street, and you’re there.” You mull the plan over in your mind and visualize it. Running to the corner, crossing the street. You are startled by the noise of a lone speeder racing past the booth and out of sight.
“Where the hell is everybody?” It’s Saturday night, and the streets are dead, even near the station. “But there have to be people at the station,” you say. “There have to be. So…to the corner, across the street, and you’re home free.” Your breathing, still erratic, calms a little, and you swallow hard. You take your foot off the door, and look up and down the street. You stand there for a moment to make sure they aren’t watching you…to make sure they aren’t just waiting for you to let your guard down.
Your hand still shakes as you place your fingers against the door. You look again, ready to jump back and block the door if need be, but you still see no one. “Alright, let’s do it. You can do it. This is your only way out.” You take a deep breath. “OK, on three.” You look around again as you feel your heart rate increase. You place your hand a little more firmly against the door. “One…. Two…..” You take several quick breaths. “Three. Go.”
You push the door open and shoot out of the booth. “Go, go, go, go,” you chant under your breath as your feet carry you faster than you knew was possible. In an instant you are approaching the corner, and the station comes into full view. “Go, go, go.” You don’t even slow as you dart out into the street, your panic building as you anticipate a possible attack. You make a quick, instinctive decision as you run toward the elevator. “Stairs,” you say. “Take the stairs. Keep moving.” You circle the elevator shaft and grab hold of the door handle to the stair well. You pull, and nothing happens.
“Shit,” you say and pull again. It’s locked. You curse again under your breath and run back to the elevator, banging on the button. “Come on! Come on!” You look madly around you, but you don’t see anyone. The elevator doors remain shut, and you bang on the button again. “Open the fucking doors,” you growl as you bounce up and down.
The doors finally open slowly, and you breathe a sigh of relief as you step inside. But before you get all the way in you hear the pounding of feet and turn in horror to see your pursuers closing in on you, and you trapped in the elevator. You start pushing buttons like mad to get the door to close, but as it slides shut, two pairs of arms reach in to stop it.
“NO!” you scream and begin kicking and flailing your arms as they grab for you. Before you can defend yourself further, you are shoved against the wall. One of the men grabs you by your hair and pulls you close to his repulsive face.
“You should’ve played nice,” he says, the stench of his breath assaulting you. “But we can play rough if that’s what you want.” He gives you a sickening smile as he tugs on your hair, forcing your head back.
Between his grip on your hair and your own fear, your body shakes violently, but you spit out, “You’ll have to fucking kill me first.”
He just laughs and whips you around, placing his hand firmly over your mouth and grabbing you around your waist with his other arm. Your screams are muffled against his hand, and you kick at his partner as he tries to grab your legs. You get off a good kick to his stomach before he is able to restrain your legs.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get her out of here and underground.”
You thrash like mad in a futile attempt to free yourself from being taken who knows where. But in spite of your terror, you make certain to keep your eyes fixed on where they are taking you.
“Hold still, you fucking whore,” the man at your head says.
“Feisty one, isn’t she?” the other one says.
“Makes it more fun that way.”
You try to scream again, but he clamps his hand tighter, slightly blocking your nose, inhibiting your ability to breathe. You pray for someone, anyone, to walk by, speed by, whatever. But the streets are as deserted as they were before.
They step quickly into an alley and force a door open. Dread fills your senses as they take you inside a building and down several flights of stairs. No one will ever see you now.
You keep trying to kick them, imagining that there is actually a way for you to get out of this before you are trapped in the bowels of this building. Unfortunately, they quickly reach the bottom of the stairs with you easily in tow. The one at your legs stops and releases one of your ankles while he uses his hand to unlock the door. You start kicking him anywhere your foot can reach. You hear him grunt as your shoe makes contact with his shoulder.
As the door opens, he grabs your foot and yanks your leg hard. “You’re going to regret that, bitch.”
“Get her inside,” the other one says.
Hope drains out of your body as you hear the heavy door clang shut. They carry you over to the corner of the dimly lit room. “Gimme that,” the one at your head says to the other.
You see the one at your feet grab a roll of duct tape from the table.
“Put her down,” the one at your head says. They lower you to the ground, and suddenly you are released. In that instant, you scream…a noise you could never imagine yourself making. A moment later, you are flipped over. You feel his hand grab your wet hair as he straddles your back. You continue to scream yourself hoarse as he roughly pulls your head back, bringing your chest up off the ground as well. “No one will ever hear you down here, you stupid bitch. You’re nothing more to rainfall on the gutter to them,” he says gesturing up. The other man cuts him a piece of tape, and he slaps it over your mouth, sticking it firmly in place and effectively muffling your voice. “But I’m getting sick of listening to you,” he barks.
He flips you back over, and you take the opportunity to punch him in the chest with your free arm. He responds by smacking you hard on the face, the force of which leaves you disoriented while he grabs your wrists and shoves you down onto your back, holding your hands high above your head.
::Not this:: your voice howls in your head. ::Anything but this:: You shake your head madly, panicked tears running down your face toward your ear. You try to kick your feet again, but the other man has you held down.
“More tape,” the one in charge orders. In moments your wrists are taped together and then to something – it looks like a pipe – on the wall. The two men stand up and admire their handiwork. You kick your legs again, but they simply back up and laugh at you.
“Good find,” the other one says rubbing his hands on his gray shirt.
“Yeah,” the one in charge responds. “The boss will be pleased.” Then he turns to you and says, “You know where you’re going, squirrelly girl?”
You just stare at him, pure hate seeping out your veins.
“Do you?!” he yells, stomping on your leg. You yell in pain, but the tape halts the sound. You shake your head in response to his question. He leers at you, “You’re going on a trip. I think my boss will find you real special. But first….” He looks over at his partner with a snicker and then at you. “First we’re gonna have some fun.” He pounces on top of you so his ugly face hovers just above yours. You squirm and squeal the best you can under his body. “Looks like you picked the wrong neighborhood to get lost in, didn’t you?” He gives you a disgusting smile. “But don’t worry, we’ll take real good care of you. You’re lucky you found us. This neighborhood can be pretty rough, and other guys aint as friendly as we are.”
And you are paralyzed with fear, cursing your decision to ever leave that phone booth.