Chapter 3

Dan’s POV

“Wow, you don’t take your alcohol well, do you?” I said, throwing Casey a worried look. Typical, the first time she drinks she gets herself drunk.

I look around us at the club surroundings and the sight looks like it was taken straight a movie. You've got the shady crowd in the corner obvisouly dealing drugs and who knows what. Then you've got the blonde bimbos at the bar opposite this one, leaning over the counter to try and seduce the workers. And from then you've got the normal crowd, liked Casey and I, who are just here for some fun.

I was interrupted abruptly from my thoughts when i realised another person had joined our company. He was a tall, dark male who looked to old to be in a club. I instantly did not like this guy. He looked very suspicions.

As if to prove my thoughts correct, he lunged toward Casey. My reflexes instantly kicked in and i jumped to my feet, throwing him a right hook that clocked him in the jaw. He barely flinched and i prepared to punch him again.

“Get lost, you stupid punk!” he yelled back at me, shoving me away. He held a tight grip around Casey's neck and i worried she might not able to breathe. I prepared to strike again when a dark figure grabbed me from behind. I struggled against his grip but he was strong - stronger than me. Casey's attacker had his arms around her, guiding her out of the club, to an average person it looked like he was helping a young drunk girl. She had no hope unless i got free.

I elbow him in the stomach and i hear him let out a grunt. Success. As i turn around to go after Casey, i realise there were four other hooded men that were standing before me. My heart was punning as i racked my brain for escape plans. I figured running was my best bet, so i urned on my heel and sprinted out the night clubs's door.

It turns out that i was faster than the other guys so i made it to the parking lot before they could catch up with me. A commercial white van pulls out of the parking lot and i realise i was doomed.

How I could have let Casey go, I angrily thought. Now it was my fault if someone had taken her! I tore through the car park and saw a commercial van pull away. I realised i was too late. My head pounded and i felt faint. I need to go after her!

Before i had the chance to run to my car, i heard a loud bang and i felt something tear into my back. I don't think i registered that id just been shot, even though i could feel the blood trickling down my back and hips. The pain was unbearable and i collapsed unwillingly on the ground. Oh Casey...

The sound of beeping was what woke me up. My eyes glanced around the room and I realised I was in a hospital ward. I noticed a figure in the corner of the room, with their head down.

“Mum?” I croaked softly, ignoring the excruciating pain in my back.

Her head snapped up and she rushed over to my side.

“My Dan, oh my Dan,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s alright, Mum,” I whispered. But how was it alright? My best friend Casey had been kidnapped. Unless…

“We thought you weren’t going to make it. You lost a lot of blood and you’ve been in a coma the whole night,” she cried softly.

"Casey?" I said slowly, hoping i was going to hear good news.

My mum doesn't look at me and i realised my worst fears had been confirmed. She had been kidnapped.

At that moment, the door burst open and in rushed Dad. He came to my side and I could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

“Dad,” I moaned, the pain in my back increasing.

My eyes drooped down, unable to take the pain any longer. I was out like a light.

Casey’s POV

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was the pain in my stomach. The pain was like nothing i had ever experienced before. Even if i tried turning slightly, sharp jabs of pains shot up my side.

I tried to sit up but I collapsed against the floor, causing my wound to bleed slightly.

Blood was all splattered on my clothes and all on the floor. I had slept on the ground in Scar’s house but I couldn’t remember anything that had happened after he had stabbed me. Suddenly, the door opened and Scar walked in, as if nothing had happened.

“Get up,” he ordered.

“I can’t, my stomach,” I stammered, not meeting his eye.

“I don’t care, get up!” he shouted coming towards me and my heart began to beat faster.

When I didn’t make a move to get up, he dropped to the ground beside me.

“Shall I bring out my little friend?” he asked mischievously, fiddling with his pocket.

“Please, no!” I moaned when he took out his knife.

He grabbed my arms and pulled me up from my lying position. My cut was still throbbing painfully and bleeding and my shirt was torn. He led me outside of the room into what looked like a kitchen.

There was dirt everywhere and the dishes were piled so high, you couldn’t even see the sink!

Scar stopped me and said, “I want this whole kitchen cleaned. I'll be back in an hour.”

“B-But,” I stammered.

“Enough!” He yelled, bringing his knife out again.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I whispered defeatedly.

It looked like I had no other choice.