Dangeruss & Tazer

Patrick Kane blinked awake. His first thought when he opened his eyes, was that he shouldn’t have taken that extra sleeping pill last night to calm his nerves. Daylight was streaming into the room where he was. He was still in the cage, spotting the familiar metal bar, trapping him in. He felt some kind of a breeze on him, as he remembered that the forecast had predicted that it would be the first cool night in weeks. A taste of the fall and the coming of the next NHL season.

Patrick’s second thought, was that he was going to be late for Blackhawks’ practice. And cascading behind that, came the realization that something was wrong. He couldn’t move. Then he remembered he’d been kidnapped by Sean Avery and some black man. He became aware that he was breathing through his nose, and that realization made it suddenly difficult to breathe.

He tried to explore with his tongue, but even that was constricted. His mouth was stuffed with material of some sort. Silk? He probed with his tongue’s tip and found the backs of his teeth, managing to open his mouth slightly, and beyond the folds of material felt the tacky surface of….tape!

And the material jammed into his mouth was silk….

The cloth and tape that had been there before, was removed and had been replaced by this new gag. He didn’t exactly like it or approve of it. He preferred the other gag, over this one, but he really just wanted to have his mouth free. He hated this! He hated being someone’s plaything, forced to be bound and gagged against his will and stuck in this cage like some bloody animal.

He was a hockey player for the Chicago Blackhawks!!

He knew immediately what was happening. An open window behind him was allowing in some of the outside air, the wind blew in, with the chilling breeze it brought.

He had a visitor.

Panic hit him, as if he’d been tasered. His body vibrated and bucked, but he remained tied down to his chair. His wrists taped tightly to the arms of the chair, his legs taped firmly together.

Finally the panic passed. The terror remained.

For some reason he thought of mermaids. Mermaids have no legs, only a single tail that they could flop around helplessly when out of the water. But mermaids could at least speak. With the silk garment wadded into a mass in his mouth, and his lips sealed with duct tape, Patrick could make only a low humming sound.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” a man’s voice said.

Patrick managed to swivel his head toward the sound, causing a sharp ache in his neck, as if he’d been jabbed with a needle. Outlined against the angled sunlight, he saw the dim silhouette of a man. A large man.

Patrick was suddenly cold. Until now, he had only thought he’d known fear. He could see his surroundings now. He was in some kind of a warehouse. It was vast and bare. It was obviously abandoned. The few boxes that were there, were stacked against the far wall. He saw Sean Avery and Michael Crabtree standing together at either corner of the front of the cage. He tried to scream at them, but all that came out was a stifled coughing that made both men smirk.

“Alright, Crabs, do you think we can let him talk now?” Sean turned to his friend.

“I don’t know, Avs...do you think it’s a good idea?”

“No one will hear him!”

“But the window’s open?”

“Then close it. Besides I kind of want to hear his little threats and whatever else he has been suppressing. It’ll be good for him to get it out. We can’t have him explode….yet.”

“That’s true. I’ll close the window though. We can’t have him screaming his lungs out to the outdoors, he might attract unwanted attention.”

Michael, the football player, walked out of Patrick’s sight. The next thing he heard was the squeaking sound, as the man shut the window. The sunlight still poured in, but it was a shade or two darker in color.

Sean, the ex-hockey player, entered the cage once more. He stormed up to the helpless Blackhawk and dropped down to his knees. His head came down to Patrick’s eye level. The poor Chicago player tried his best to remain brave, but he exuded fear and he knew it. Sean smirked and lifted his arm up to the blonde haired man’s face.

Just one kick forward!

That was all it would take to get the evil goon away from him. But he was going to remove the tape from his mouth finally and he wanted that. Then he could scream. He would scream super loud. Someone would hear him, right? Someone would come to his rescue.

Sean peeled the tape away from his head and flicked the sticky adhesive to the side. Then he reached into Patrick’s mouth and pulled the silky material out, brushing his big meaty fingers against his tongue, making him cough and gag. The big man tossed the dripping ball of saliva to the side where the tape was.

“What the hell?” Patrick spat, snapping his head to the side and spitting on the ground.

“Kanerboo, dear, we had a little accident back at the Greenhouse. Seems your little pesty teammate stumbled across the hideout. We had to move.”

Shawzy! Andrew Shaw had seen me. Had been so close to rescuing me?

“I hate you Avery! If I didn’t already before...I do now! In fact I don’t just hate you...I LOATHE you! You son of a bitch! Let me go!” Patrick roared, jerking against the tape holding him to the chair. He tossed his head back and forth wildly and finally let loose an ear-splitting scream.

Sean halted his frantic movements with one hand, that glided up and down Patrick’s dirty cheek with his fingers, brushing his sweat-soaked blonde curls away from his forehead.

“First of all, letting you go won’t happen. Second of all, you can scream all you want, but no one will hear you. These walls are sound resistant and this place is huge. The only thing that will happen is it will echo all around you. So, go ahead and let it all out. Go on.”

Patrick bit his lip. Was it true? Was he really doomed? He decided to try it out. He let loose a series of screams, at the top of his lungs, until he had enough and looked down, heart broken. It was true. He could still hear the echoes, surrounding the air around him. It mocked, taunted and teased him.

“There, don’t you feel better, sweetie?”

“Don’t call me sweetie, Avery!”

“You’re not in a position to be mouthing off to me. I can easily re-gag you.”

Patrick shook his head. He didn’t want anymore tape on him. It made his lips dry just thinking about it. He found himself licking his bottom lip, wetting it nervously. “Please, just let me go, Avery. I promise I won’t tell anyone and I won’t get in your way!”

“It’s too late for that Princess!”

“I’m not a princess!” Patrick focused all of his energy and rammed his feet, between Sean’s legs, kicking him in the sweet spot.

The goon howled, stumbling backward on his hands. Patrick pulled at the tape, but the adhesive was strong around him. He frantically tried to get free, as Sean recovered, getting to his feet. His eyes narrowed and it made Patrick gulp.

“You shouldn’t-a done that, Kanerboo, now you’re going to get it!”

Patrick opened his mouth up to scream again, but all the came out was a whine. Avery rounded him, slapping his hand over the Blackhawks’ mouth. He pinched his cheeks together, roughly and it made the blonde man cringe and tighten up. Avery forced his head to the right side, as he knelt down over the left shoulder. His breath was warm, as it flowed out, caressing his ear. Patrick attempted to move his head, jerking it away, but he couldn’t move.

Sean’s big nose lightly touched his temple, as he whispered, “You never learn, do you, Patty Kane?”

He finally removed his hand, sliding it up and grabbing a handful of his sweaty locks into his fingers. He began to run his hands through his victim’s hair, slicking it back and forth, rather roughly. It was the worst head massage he’d ever had, and it was quite painful.

“Stop, Avery!” He begged.

But he didn’t stop. Instead he carried on. Patrick glimpsed the sight of Michael Crabtree, enjoying the show. He had found a chair or something to sit on and was watching, with a keen interest and amusement at the Blackhawks’ pain.

Suddenly, Sean Avery began to assault Patrick, like he did in the bar back in 2010. He started off with rhythmic, spacious punches. Then he ripped the tape off of his victim finally and yanked him to his feet. The goon signaled to his friend to join in the “fun.”

Michael entered the cage, locking the door behind him. He came to stand opposite of where Sean was. They began to shove the blonde haired man between them. He stumbled on his feet, as the rough action allowed him no control. He felt like a wiffle ball being smacked back and forth, between two competitive players.

“You shouldn’t have beat me at the bar!”

“And you shouldn’t have beat up my best friend! Remember the cab driver you assaulted, you stupid Hawk!”

Patrick was horrified. The cab driver was Michael Crabtree’s friend?? That wasn’t good! He allowed the two to play around with him, shoving him back and forth. It was useless to try and fight back or even attempt an escape. The door was locked shut and they would catch him, before he could even touch the handle.

“So you like beating people up, do ya, Kanerboo?” Sean’s sly voice sneered. “We’re going to have some fun with you!”

Sean shoved Patrick into the arms of Michael. Michael’s arm wrapped around his neck. He didn’t choke him, but held him firmly in place. The ex-Ranger snatched his handy roll of duct tape up and tore off a long strip from it. He stalked forward, teasing the Blackhawk with the adhesive. He reached out and, with one hand forced Patrick’s arms together, in front of him. With the other hand, he wrapped the tape around his wrists, securing them together.

Then he ripped off another smaller piece in the shape of a rectangle and stuck it over the blonde man’s mouth. The football player dropped his arm from around his neck and let him go free.

Sean grabbed him by the collar of the blue shirt and flung him into the chair again. He proceeded to take the roll of tape and wrap it around Patrick and the chair. Patrick Kane thrashed about, muffling his displeasure. It was a pitiful noise. But he made it over and over, in unison with the sound of the duct tape being wrapped around his upper arms, pasting him in an upright position in his seat.

“You’re going to scream,” he told the blonde man, as he finished binding his legs back together at the ankles, under the cuffs of his jean pants. “But this way, it won’t be out loud.” Then he grinned. It sent a shiver down Patrick’s spine. “By the way, it’s okay to be afraid now.”

Patrick bowed his head and closed his eyes. This man didn’t know he was beyond certain kinds of fear. Over the past few years, he’d learned to endure. That was his strength, to let whatever was going to happen simply roll over him and happen. Afterward, he would assess the damage. Whatever was left in his soul and body, he would drag from the scene after the madness had passed.

And if there was to be no afterward…that would be a mercy.

“It isn’t going to be easy for you,” he said.

You’re a hockey player like me! A friend! Help me! Help me!

Sean Avery’s blatant betrayal was of a magnitude that crushed the Blackhawk. He hadn’t been the one to make the first punch at the bar. He knew that. Sean Avery was just jealous of Patrick Kane’s popularity (and probably boyish looks). Patrick understood that he was not beyond pain.

He did somehow manage to hold panic at bay. The kind of mindlessness that would turn into something less than human. He kept repeating to himself that this would pass. He tried to beg for mercy through the tape now, but couldn’t make more than a low humming sound, over and over.

“That’s my favorite tune,” the ex-hockey player goon sneered. His lips curled upward and the corners of his mouth raised in a sly smirk.

Notes

Poor Kanerboo............ :(((((