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Chapter 3 by Jm21 Jm21

Who do I see?

Eminem

Fuck. What do I do? Has he seen me- what if he’s seen me? Should I go? Christ. God, alright, calm down and actually think about this. He’s a notoriously private, keep-to-himself kinda guy, he probably just came here for some alone time outside. You’ll be fine if you just keep your head down and keep to yourself.

I **** myself to start moving again, hoping my freakout didn’t draw any attention to me. My senses turn up and I feel stress flooding over me again. As my vision scans across the faces of everyone around me, I notice an obvious shift in the tone of the park. Everyone I pass, outside of a few stray children still not home or at daycare, looks anywhere from apprehensive to out and out afraid. I try to shove down the feelings building up inside me, fueled by the matching worry and distress from those around me.

God, maybe I should just go home. That’s clearly the only way to make sure nothing’s gonna happen. I mean... unless he already saw me. But if he did and he wanted to do something he already would’ve done it... right? Fuck. Just, regardless, I should go-

Before I can finish my train of thought, screams ring out from behind me, pulling my attention towards whoever made the sound. I pull out my earbuds and whip around, trying to find out what’s going on. After a moment of frantic looking, my eyes land on two bulky thirty-something guys struggling to pull a twink that can’t be any older than twenty-seven into the back of a van.

Without a second thought, I turn around and bolt towards the three, not worrying about my own safety. The sound of my own footsteps rings in my ears as I get closer to the scuffle in front of me. In the back of my mind, I notice no one else coming to help, but try to push it back. Probably just some bystander effect bullshit. That’s a thing, right?

“Hey!” The two older men turn their heads to face me, loosening their grips on the younger. I stop running and pull out my earbuds, my hands shaking and my heart pounding in my chest.

“What the fuck do you want,” the man closest to me spits back, tightening his hold on the other man again.

“Let him go,” I respond, my voice shaking with a combination of fear and exertion. The two soon-to-be kidnappers look over at each other and smirk before the same one responds.

“What are you gonna do, make us?” The fuck kinda 80s movie bully shit is that?

“Yeah, I fucking am.” God, this is stupid.

The larger men look me over, likely sorting out how difficult I would be to take out and if I’m really worth the trouble. The longer their eyes stay on me, the more I feel my hands starting to shake, anxiety building up more and more in my chest.

“Alright, then.”

The man I’d been talking to lets go of his and his friend’s captive and approaches me. The two of us make eye contact for a brief moment before he takes a swing at me. I dodge his strike and swing right back at him. My fist connects with his face, hard enough to startle him, but not enough to actually stun him. He pauses for a moment and only starts to punch again when it's too late, giving me a chance to punch him again, immediately before kicking him in the shin. That ends up being enough to freeze him up and I take the opportunity to get him down for good, kick-stomping his ankle and watching him fall.

I look up from the fallen man and at his partner. His eyes stay fixed on the body on the ground, seemingly unsure of what to do next, whether because he doesn’t think he can take me or that he doesn’t want to let go of his victim.

After a moment of pause, he lets go of the younger man and shoves him into the side of the van, starting to come towards me himself. I eye him up as he nears me, trying to figure out who I’m dealing with. He stands an inch or two taller than his partner and is noticeably stronger, with his shirt holding tighter to his arms than his friend. My heart drops to my stomach, as the realization that he could kick my ass sets in. As he reaches me, I clench up, getting ready for him to punch me.

“Alright, you win.” I freeze, sure that he has to be fucking with me.

“I win?”

“You win,” he confirms, walking past me. I brush off the nervous feeling in my stomach and start to rush over to the shaken twink standing by the van when I hear someone or something coming up behind me. I turn around to see what it was when someone behind me hits me hard on the back of the neck. Pain shoots down my neck and spine and I fall to the ground stunned.

I turn over and rest myself on my elbows, only to see the man I thought I just saved standing over me, smirking. Fuck. My body goes into panic mode, as the two men from earlier close in as well. Goddamnit. I got fucking played. I lay back on the grass, ready to accept my fate when I see another person approaching. And there are four of them. Great.

As the figure gets closer, the same flash of recognition from earlier shoots through my brain. Apprehension spreads through me, as puzzle pieces start clicking in my head. I try to hold it back, hoping he was just genuinely trying to help and not part of luring me into danger.

I close my eyes and try to shut out everything happening around me, a strange sense of borderline nihilism about my situation flooding over me. I stop caring about anything happening, knowing that I’m fucked regardless of what happens, with every option I come up with for how this could end being a bad one. Either my safety is in the hands of one man up against three others who could likely get his ass kicked by any one of them or I just got conned in a full four-man operation designed to trap idiots with no sense of self-preservation. Whatever happens, my life as I know it is almost definitely over.

After a moment, I open my eyes to see a familiar, bearded figure crouched down next to and looking down at me, seeming concerned. My chest tightens up, the fact that everything that I just went through was pretty much a textbook set up for dickhead celebrities to legally kidnap people. Fuck me, man.

“You alright, man,” Marshall asks. Just go with it. If he’s doing what you think he is, you’re fucked anyway, might as well make everything easier on yourself.

“Yeah, I just got caught off guard, really.”

“Need a hand?”

“Sure,” I respond. Marshall puts his hand out and I take it. He helps pull me up before looking me over. I reflexively tense up a bit, naturally worrying about his motivations in any of this. I mean, come on, this is textbook, outside of the fake-out ****. There’s no fucking way this isn’t a trap.

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Mhm.” I absentmindedly nod and stare off in his general direction, my mind occupied with what I need to do to get out of this shit.

“Good.” Marshall’s tone catches my attention and I start to turn my gaze back to him, when he shoves me into the tree behind me. The bark digs into my skin through my clothes, as panic shoots through my body.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Christ, man. Self control.

“That’s pretty simple.” He steps closer to me and grabs me by my jaw, making a point to press his wrist into my throat. “I’m gonna fucking **** you, right out here in front of everyone.”

“You can’t do that.” He chuckles at me, his gaze burning a hole through me.

“And why not?” Fuck. Come on man, you gotta think of something.

How do I respond?

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