Category Archives: kidnapping

Monster XX

Monster XX
By: Mia L. Hazlett
2/22/15

I had no recollection of my trip, but I was back at the beginning of my journey. I looked at the familiar dungeon cell. Cleaning measures had been taken. Nothing extensive, but there was a scent of bleach rather than the stench of death.

Hope instantly popped into my head. I pounded on the concrete wall. Instead of the reciprocated response, my door opened. A woman’s form filled the doorway, but I didn’t recognize her. I assumed it was Hope, but I had only seen her emaciated and bloodied. I stood as she stepped inside the doorway. As we embraced, I knew it was her.

The door closed behind us. We slid down the wall with our hands entwined. We communicated with our silence. There is nothing we could say. Our shared captivity and torture was our irreversible bond. Our endurance in this underground hell was our secret.

She put her head on my shoulder and I wept. Since I had come here a year or years ago, there had been no endearing touching. I cried myself to sleep. When I awoke, we were both slumped on the floor. I tried to turn my head, but the painful ache hurt too much. Hope shifted and blinked her eyes open. In the dim light, I finally noticed the walls. They painted them white. The entire room was white. Floor. Ceiling. Walls. All white. There were no more stains of my existence.

I heard keys. The door opened. Maniacal stepped in. He sat down. Hope sat up. He leaned in. We leaned in.

“Two is better than one.”

We leaned back. He leaned back. He stood up. The door opened. I heard keys. The door locked.

Copyright © 2015 Mia L. Hazlett

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Monster XVII

Monster XVII
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/11/14

I hoped the three rats were the only ones. My life or theirs. After squishing one between my foot and the bottom of this miserable coffin, I squeezed two to death in my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was becoming a heartless killer or if the instinct of survival prevailed. Either way, I was alive and they were dead. I would never be Footsteps, so I convinced myself it was survival.

Obviously, I had failed at my attempted murder. Or had I? Maybe Footsteps was dead and Maniacal had tracked me with the Doctor. It didn’t matter. I was stuck underground with dead rats. I didn’t remember what happened from the car to a rat biting my foot. I knew I had a scalpel and tried to cut Footstep’s neck. Maybe I was becoming a heartless killer. Slicing a person’s neck had to fall somewhere in the heartless category. But he was my kidnapper, so I was going to keep myself in the survivalist category.

The real question, how long had I been here? Eventually I would run out of oxygen. Had they put me through all of this just to bury me alive with rats? Months, maybe a year of torture, just to become cake leftovers? Knowing how long I had been here didn’t matter, I didn’t feel suffocated. My breathing came easy. That was more worrisome. Maybe they were keeping me alive to face the consequences. I could handle myself with the rats. They were just looking to survive like me. Survivalist against survivalist. But if they were keeping me alive to go against Footsteps, if he was still alive, that was much different. It wasn’t about heartless killer against survivalist. It was about a heartless killer seeking revenge. I should have let the rats eat me alive. No one survived revenge.

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Taken X

Taken X
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/24/14

Jessie.  I had my Jessie back.  Mark wasn’t cheating on me, he was trying to get our Jessie back.  Whoever was in the house must have tried to hurt him and that’s why he ran.  When I ran to the back of the little cottage, I saw the door slowly creep open. I thought I had been found, but as my eyes focused, it was my baby.  My little Jessie stumbled out the back and into my arms. We ducked low as I heard the person inside frantically hunt for her.

The engine of the van turned over and the headlights were like instant sun in this shadowless wilderness.  I waited for it to disappear before I turned my tiny flashlight back on.  I didn’t know how far the batteries would take us, but I needed to get to a place where I could get some bars on my cell phone.  I had to call Mark and tell him I had Jessie.  He would probably be angry, because that would reveal I followed him.  His arrogance would hate the fact that I rescued her and he left running.

I stumbled through the woods and thought I heard the sounds of water.  It was faint, but unmistakable.  Jessie was barely walking so I lifted her into my arms.  I wanted to get us as far away from that house as I could.  The sound of the water was more audible and that was going to be my guide.  My flashlight shut off.

Behind us I heard cars, but the water was closer.  What was that? A crash? I wasn’t sure.  I kept moving towards the water.  Jessie was too heavy to continue to carry.  I found a tree and sat against the base of its trunk.  It wasn’t until I stopped moving that I realized how cold it was.  My little Jessie was cold too.

As I sat, I formulated a plan to go back to the house.  Whoever left, would never come back, knowing Mark found his hiding place.  We could at least spend the night and then in the morning, I would at least be able to travel in daylight. But most of all, we wouldn’t freeze in these woods.

The outline of the house came into my view.  Just beyond the house there appeared to be headlights approaching.  I was wrong.  The person was returning to get my Jessie.  I ran and hid us deep into the trees and stopped moving when I heard the engine shut off.  The headlights remained on and I heard deep voices.  I wasn’t sure how many voices, but there was definitely more than one.  And I knew one of them.  It was Mark.  He must have run to go get help.  He had come back to bring our Jessie home.

I ran out of the woods the best I could holding Jessie tight to my chest.  I screamed his name as I came into the clearing behind the tiny house.  We were safe.  Mark would take me and my baby home.  A figure stood in the headlights and I ran towards it.  They were blinding so I wasn’t sure who I was running towards, until he opened his arms for us.  I ran into my husband’s arms.  We were safe.

Copyright © 2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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Monster XV

Monster XV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/6/14

This was like a stakeout, except we weren’t cops. Instead, we were more like stalkers. Professional stalkers. While they stalked the gentleman in the house, I stalked the neighborhood. They kept me blindfolded for the car ride, but we always ended up on the same street. Unfortunately, it was always nighttime, so I couldn’t see the street sign at the corner.

We arrived at 10 pm every night. Within minutes, a car would pull into the driveway. Three weeks and the same thing. A gentleman would get out and go inside. The lights would stay on for about two hours. They would appear again at about 6 am. By 8 am, the driver’s seat was occupied again. With daylight, my blindfold returned. Removal of it always put us in the same parking lot behind the same building. Unfortunately, it was non-distinct and offered no details of my location.

Tonight was different. When they took my blindfold off, it was dusk. The sun hadn’t completely gone down. We were at the same house, but sitting in a different location. There was no way to look at the street sign without being obvious. The Doctor and Footsteps sat in the front, while I sat in the back of the van with my hands zip-tied behind my back. We were never in the same vehicle while occupying the on-street parking road.

But like I said, tonight was different. Footsteps turned around and cut my zip-tie off. It didn’t matter how many times we had come here, I didn’t know where I was. They did. Running to nowhere would be stupid. Even if I could shake them, GPS would tattle on me.

Again, tonight was different. After being cut free, I was no longer a stalker. I was now a home intruder. I had no watch, but I assumed it was a little after 10 pm. I heard the door open. Keys were thrown on a counter or something. I heard a refrigerator door open then close. The television went on and then a ringtone was quickly stifled. There was no answer, so I assumed he ignored the call.

Now I waited for him to go to sleep. With my sliver view from the closet, there was only a glow from the television. It could have been an hour, or maybe two. I never thought stalking could be so tiring. My right leg began to cramp. Moving was not an option. My tight environment did not allow for it. Still there was the television, but now heavy breathing.

If hope worked, he was asleep. If hope worked, I wouldn’t have to kill him. If hope worked, tonight I could escape. If hope worked, they would never find me again. If hope worked, Hope would live too. I crept out of the stalking cover and entered the hallway. There was no hope. Footsteps was in the hallway too.
© Copyright 2014 – Mia L. Hazlett

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Taken IX

Taken IX
By: Mia L. Hazlett
8/28/14

What was that?  I heard a noise outside.  I opened the door expecting to see Mark, but I only heard a car in the distance.  There was a slight glimmer of the headlights through the trees, but the sound I heard before was closer.  Now I could only hear the barking of coyotes blended with the crickets and various evening critters.  There it was again.  Someone was still here watching us.

“Hello,” I shouted into the darkness.  “Hello,” I yelled louder.

I went back into the house and The Package was gone.  After hunting through the house, only 500 square feet, so not that much to cover.  She was nowhere.  I know I heard cars, but who stayed behind? Who was watching me? Who had taken The Package again? At this point it didn’t matter. Answers weren’t what I needed.  I needed to leave the country.  Now.

I retrieved my passport and small stash of bills.  Although I thought I would be adding 50 grand to this, my thoughts were not my current reality.  Getting to Canada was the only way out of this mess .  In three days, I would be a different person, in a different country, living a different life.

I pulled my van onto the road.  I passed the small gated path, which went to the small creek behind my cabin.  Before I could get around the bend near the cliff, I looked into the midnight trees.  There was a jumping light that hopped and then disappeared.  A flashlight? None of my business.  I needed to get out of the country.

My eyes could not adjust to the instant light.  They were in front of me and behind me.  I was no longer driving my car, but overcorrecting my swerve and slamming on my brakes.  I don’t know if the shattering glass came before or as my head whipped back.

I woke to pain.  Mark stood over me.  He held my passport and all my cash.  He shook his head side to side.  I tried to get up, but Mark punched me back down.  I was going to die.  Mark was going to kill me.  These were my last moments.  Oddly, I had always thought of death as a nameless end.  Never did it have a name.  I saw Mark load his gun as he stood on my neck.  As he aimed his gun at my head, death had a name and its name was Mark.

Copyright © 2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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Taken VIII

Taken VIII
Mia L. Hazlett
8/23/2014

There were woods everywhere.  Woods and no street lights. Dark and only my headlights.  Trying to follow my husband was impossible.  He pulled onto a slight gated dirtway.  It wasn’t really a trail, nor a driveway or street.  He parked and opened the gate.  His taillights stopped shortly after he entered.  He relocked the gate, but did not get back into his car.  A small spot of light wavered in front of him from his flashlight.

I parked my car and stepped out.  Crickets. Owls. Rustling leaves.  A strange barking in the distance. The cacophony of the night hid my clumsy steps, as I tried to following my husband’s spot of light.  I stumbled through the branches and hid behind a tree when I saw headlights coming through the trees.  The lights scanned over a small cottage before the engine cut.

I didn’t see my husband any longer.  The tree continued to give me cover. I’m not sure if I needed the tree, the pitch black did its own job. My eyes adjusted to the frame of a small cottage, but not much else.  I heard a slight creak.  It sounded like a door opening.

Footsteps. I heard running in the woods in front of me.  I found another tree and hid behind it.  The small spot of light returned and jumped up and down.  It must have been my husband.  But what was in that house?  What would make my husband run? My husband ran from nothing.

Faintly I heard the sound of two vehicle engines starting.  Had he found my car?  Before I could turn and run for my car, I saw a speck of light in the cottage.  There was someone in the house.  I ran towards the light and fell.  In my home, this would have been a mere thump.  In this desolate place, it was a clap of thunder.  The light quickly went out.

Copyright © 2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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Monster XII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
1/10/14

Fear was stifling. It was one thing to fear for yourself, but another when someone else’s life depended on yours. I didn’t know who Hope was, but since we had stayed together over the past week, our commonality became this torturous hell pit. They no longer hurt either one of us. Dr. Guy came in and re-broke her leg and made a makeshift cast. For some reason I assumed he was a doctor because he set her leg on a board and tied it in place with rags, and administered some sort of pain killer with a needle. This was everything our captors had done, less setting the leg, but I guess since he didn’t appear to possess the torture gene, he was a doctor to me.

My strength was restored, but they had overlooked one detail that now postponed our scheduled rendezvous, my sight. There was a dim glow that always illuminated the darkest corners. For whatever period of time I had been here, my eyes had adjusted. But going outside in the sunlight, where they had taken me the past two days, caused debilitating migraines.

Over the past week, the light was constant in Hell. The wattage was increased daily. Today there was no headache. I was surprised how light lessened my fear. In my mind we were in some tragic lost dungeon, and although the light didn’t change our circumstances, I could now see who was coming. Our torturers were simply men. I did my best to wipe away old blood stains. I wasn’t sure my reasoning. It wasn’t to make this home, nor could I ever erase this experience from my mind, but it just made the present tolerable.

My eyes opened to Maniacal and Footsteps standing over me. Hope had her mouth taped and Dr. Guy’s hands were between her thighs. Her eyes spoke the pain her muffled screams could not relay. Maniacal looked down, “It’s time. Follow us.” For the first time in the light, my fear returned, but looking at Hope, I followed.
©2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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