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Snippet #1802099

located in Renshaw Manor, a part of The King's Gambit, one of the many universes on RPG.

Renshaw Manor

A bright and well-lit estate, with servants to wait on the players and plenty of food to eat. It's a bit hard to believe that we're playing with our lives here, isn't it?

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Maria felt sick. Lying on the floor of the van, gagged and bound, she was overwhelmed by the smell of diesel. The punch to the gut that had taken her down had made her vomit up once. Despite the fact that she'd thought she'd lost everything she'd eaten already, that smell combined with the stench of sick in her hair made her wonder if she could hold off hurling all over again.

Oh, boy, she hurt. Hurt all over. When they'd come at her, she had only had a split second to realise she was being jumped. She'd gone for her gun. Two guys, one girl, that made it fair. One of them had seen her move, and kicked it, spinning, from her hand. So she'd kicked him, straight in the balls. Only he'd been wearing a goddamn cup, which she did not call fair. The other guy had lunged to grab her from behind. She'd dived away, rolling through the dog turds, the scrubby grass poking through between the broken glass, and then kicked her leg out to trip the mofo she'd kicked out at earlier. Well, he hadn't exactly gone down, but he'd staggered. She grabbed the wall to haul herself up, and then the second guy was on her again. This time he'd grabbed her properly, so she grabbed at his head and yanked as hard as she could whilst his massive weight bore down on her, struggling to keep her feet. Scratch his eyes out, anything went, so she rammed a thumb into his eye and he yelled out, cursing and spitting. As something whizzed by her ear - a tranquilizer dart? - she elbowed him to loosen his grip a little, then went for her knife. She would have rammed it into his thigh if the other guy hadn't dropped to half-grab her arm. Still, she'd cut him at least.

Then the combined weight of the two of them landed on her and she hadn't stood a chance from that moment onward. She'd struggled like crazy though, until eventually one of them grabbed her long enough for the other to punch her in the belly.

They'd dragged her, hanging limply between them and vomiting whenever she managed to suck in a breath, and made sure to bind her before throwing her into the van. Now she could feel every jolt as it carried on to it's final destination. Her left eye had been blacked, she was covered in scratches, dog crap and vomit, and she could feel glass and gravel embedded in her upper arm.

All in all, she reckoned, not good.

If she threw up again whilst gagged, she'd probably choke to death. That was good to focus on to stop her from spewing. She hadn't a clue who these guys were. She'd thought she knew every two-bit gangster who might have cause to jump her, but none of them would have kidnapped her. It's not like she was up for ransom. Besides, these guys had been in black, with balaclavas and body armor. They fought like ex-Marines - or at least like they were highly trained.

What the fuck was going on?

At last the van rumbled to a halt. She was utterly disorientated at this point, with no idea where the hell she was. They grabbed her pretty roughly, and so she feigned limpness as they marched her towards some big house. Not like that was much in the way of hard. They stopped whilst she threw up again, ripping off the gag so she wouldn't suffocate. She vomited again all over the path, dry heaving now. Then as she leaned over, still on her knees, she suddenly threw herself to her feet and started to run. She actually managed to get several clumsy feet, badly off balance because her hands were bound behind her. Then one of them landed on her again, and without her arms to stop herself she landed face-down. Chest-first actually, so that she felt the searing pain of the blow to the sternum and then her chin smashed into the gravel as an unhappy afterthought.

As she lay there, in so much pain that she just wanted to pass out, she felt someone kicking her roughly over with a boot. Then a fist smashed into her face to make her do just that.

*


"Jesus, what did you do to her?"

"Don't have any sympathy for that little bitch," the first warned him. As he peeled off his balaclava he was forced to wipe the blood from his eye, his eyelid badly torn. The other bodyguard stared at his superior. "She stabbed me!" he said.

Sure enough, she had. Blood was still welling up from between his fingers as he held the afflicted limb, the gash gaping between the shorn cloth.

"Okay, you should get that seen to," the guy with the clipboard conceded. "Maybe once she's woken up we can have her seen to as well. This was supposed to be professional," he went on.

"Next time we have to do something like this, I'm bringing the pepper spray," he heard one mutter as the both of them headed out. It made him frown.

Could it be that there might be a next time? Now that was a thought about his employer that didn't bear thinking about.

*


Five kids now, on chairs in the foyer. All but one were unconscious, and that girl was barely conscious at that, slumped on her own seat. It wouldn't be too long now before they all started to come around...