The Jaunt: Chapter Five, Sheer Dumb Luck

Chris coughed up the smoke traveling down his throat, making his throat feel on fire and his lungs ache. When he was done he took a look around, it was as if it was straight out of a movie, he was sitting tied down to a chair, thick ropes keeping him still. A single dirty light bulb hung naked on the ceiling above him, giving off a dirty light the seemed to only light up him and his chair. A giant veil of black surrounded him, making sure that he couldn’t see beyond three feet in front of him. His head hurt…a lot, felt as if a giant bruise covered his left side of his muzzle, he could feel the air in a few places where scales must have fallen off, they were fresh, and stung when he moved his head. His arms felt numb, probably from the lack of movement and circulation loss, and his legs were cramped, no idea why, but they were.

He heard crackling laughter of the first one and the muffled mocking of the gas masked man. They laughed at his misery for awhile before stepping away from the light making his blind to them. He tried to move his head but found that also cramped. He heard a sound of alarm come out of the gas masked one and they both left. Leaving him behind, he could have sworn that he heard a door close. The two that kidnapped him were now nowhere to be seen, but he could still hear them, about twenty feet away. He tried to listen to what they were saying but all he could he was mumblings in what could be either English or complete batshit insane talk…or maybe a bit of both. He sat there in his misery, pain, and confusion. Why did these people not kill him, they were obviously part of some terrorist group, they would have no problem killing him if it seemed to help their goals.

“but what exactly are their goals?” he asked himself, and that was a good question, all he could remember was the gasmasked man call him a “cancer”. That can’t be good, maybe they were going to torture him, maybe they were going to kill him, or they might even turn him back to his parents! At this though Chris began struggling, trying hard to pull the ropes that bond to the chair him off. He heard a muffled voice yell, “Stop, or I will shoot!”
Chris could feel one of his hands pull free as he hear a deafening blast go though the room, along with a flash of blinding white. His eyes felt like they were on fire and his ears rang. Through the confusion he was able to free his other hand and scoot away from the chair. His back hit a wall as he covered his still ringing ears and tried to cover his blinded eyes. He looked up and saw that the room was a mess, a broken canister of something was lying on the floor, smoke oozed out of it. Now free from his chair he could see he was in a small 10:10 room, probably a closet of some sort. He opened his mouth, finding that they actually bond his teeth together, making it impossible to speak. He tried to pull out the string that was attached to his teeth but it was no use, he couldn’t get them out. He was able to pull off the bindings on his legs and started to stand up. It was uneasy at first, but as he stood up more he felt his body heal a little from the beatings and the bindings. His legs started to uncramp, his head began to feel a little clearer, and most of all his body started to be energized.

He walked over to the canister and picked it up, it was about six inches long, and probably had the diameter of two. He smelled the canister and it smelt like a strange form of gunpowder. Chris knew without a doubt that this was the cause of the blinding light and the deafening noise but he still had no idea what it was for. He carefully placed the canister back to where he picked it up. He put his ear to the door to try to see if he could hear anything. At first he heard nothing, then he heard the muffled sound of what sounded like a car backfiring. He closed his eyes and concentrated, the sound was getting closer and closer, and with more frequency. He stumbled back as he realized it was gunfire, and it was coming this way!