No Place I'd Rather Be...

Keith Ballard (not related to the Wild defenseman) finished up a fourth round of torture with the curling iron. It was the fourth day of Nathan’s kidnapping and he was still strong, but his body was broken. Nathan was sprawled on the bed, but still in one piece and alive. He looked horrible, but he was still strong enough to yank at the ropes wrapped around him, restraining him in place.

He watched as the serial killer had brought a chair into the room and sat it in front of the TV and to the side of the corner of the bed. He untied Nathan from the bed, cautiously, first undoing a wrist, which he gripped with a tightness that made Nathan feel numbness. He jerked it over to the other arm and bound his wrists tightly together with that rope, before untying the second rope that was still around the other wrist. He let Nathan flop back on the bed, with his arms above him.

The hockey player instantly moved his arms over his head and tried to slip out of the rope. Keith ws at the foot of the bed and already had his ankles bound together and unhooked from the bed. He rounded the side and dragged the fighting Nathan off of the bed and brought him over to the chair and sat him in it.

Since the first round of torture, Nathan was naked and exposed. His cock was bright red from the burning of the iron. But he didn’t seem in pain from it. Keith wrapped one of the longer leg ropes around the back of the chair and Nathan’s upper arms. He didn’t tighten it, as it seemed like he had something else in mind.

He untied the rope from his wrists, but before Nathan could slip out or do anything, they were rebound, behind the chair. The rope around his upper arms was removed and placed back on the bed. Nathan jerked about, still fighting. He kicked out, screaming into the handkerchief gag, as Keith turned the TV up with the game playing on it.

“No, no!” he seemed to scream.

But the villain didn’t mind him or his wishes. Instead he came back to Nathan and slicked his wavy hair back. It was soaked with sweat and the locks were starting to mat and cling to his head.

“It’s time to switch your gag, isn’t it!” Keith exclaimed, translating something that Nathan said to mean that.

The blond Avalanche player shook his head. “No new gag!”

“No new gag? You want to keep that one in?”

“No!”

Keith shrugged. “Make up your mind MacKinnon.” He walked over to the bag, while Nathan thrashed in the chair, violently.

Before he could tip the chair over, Keith returned and caught him. He untied the knot of the handkerchief and removed the gag from him, tossing it onto the bed.

“Don’t gag me!” Nathan snapped. “I don’t like it!”

“Sucks to be you then doesn’t it!” Keith snickered to himself.

“Put my clothes back on at least then!”

“How about, no? I have to have you naked, so that I can break you. I can’t break you, if you have your clothes on, can I?” As he spoke, he put a small hospital bar of soap into the new scarf-like gag.

Nathan didn’t respond.

“Can I?” Keith repeated, harsher. He twisted the scarf around the soap to conceal it, like a doctor might do with the bit for checking your teeth.

“No.”

“So, don’t bitch and whine and just deal with it. You’re mine, until you break and then I’ll kill you.” He twisted the scarf some more, until he was happy with it and then he grabbed the conceal bar part and prepared to jam it into place.

“Fuck you!”

“Guess, I’ll have to wash your mouth out with soap, eh?” He threw his hands over, before Nathan could get much of a response out.

“What--?” Nathan started, before the soap was jammed and stuffed into his mouth and then the scarf was tight around his head. He pulled the knot tight, securing the material in place. Then he wrapped it around again and again. He tied a nice bow with the ends, over Nathan’s lips. Nathan gargled something and shook his head.

“Now you’ll have a nice clean mouth, MacKinnon.”

The poor forward gave sharp jerks once more, desperate to get himself free so he could take the scarf off.

“You look like a pretty package or present!” Keith laughed. He walked back around the chair and stood before Nathan, watching him struggle. “Let’s make you squirm some more. And maybe finally break you! You’re giving me some sweet ideas for Patrick Kane though.”

Nathan grunted and began to violent lurch forward coughing and groaning at the taste of the soap in his mouth. Keith stepped up and straddled his legs, which gave the Avalanche forward a sudden idea. As the killer snatched his dagger up, ready to make more damage, the hockey player mustered his strength and kicked upward, nailing the sinister miscreant right in the crotch. Hard. The evil man stumbled from the pain and his arm swung down with the knife in it. It happened to land directly between his ankles and slashed the ropes off.

He immediately yanked himself from the chair and to his feet. In a stroke of luck he saw the door open and he bolted through it. He ran down the hall and managed to turn himself around and get the front door open with his bound hands. Wasting no time, he streaked away from the scene and house. He ran down the street, not stopping. The soap tasted disgusting, but soon he’d be safe and able to get rid of it.

Suddenly a car zoomed ahead of him and cut off his path. He muffled shock and skidded to a halt. Keith got out and started toward him. But the man stopped as someone screamed, “Get away from him!”

Nathan froze in place, but watched in relief as Keith spat at him and darted back to his car, hopped in and drove off, leaving him. The hockey player slowly turned around to see a female standing on the edge of a patch of woods, holding a rifle. She put it down and raced over to him.

She was a gorgeous young adult woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, or around his age. She had a beanie on her head and waves of amber flooded from her head. Her eyes were a sparkling hazel color.

“Um, may I, uh?” she questioned, awkwardly, hinting at untying him.

She didn’t need to ask, but he nodded and she instantly untied the ropes from his wrists. Then he reached up and untied the scarf from his mouth. He got it off eventually and spat out the remainder of the balled up soap bar, what was all but half of the whole. He coughed and she pulled out her water bottle that she had on her. She gave it to him and he immediately squirted some of the cool liquid into his mouth. It would take hours to get the soapy taste from his mouth, but at least the water would help.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“No problem. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Not at all. That bastard kidnapped me and tortured me. But I have to get to the nearest police station immediately, someone is in major trouble!”

“Alright, first, let me get you back to my place and get you some clothes. You shouldn’t be wandering around in the middle of winter naked.”

“Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. What’s your name?”

“Nathan MacKinnon. I’m a hockey player. I play for the, um, Colorado Avalanche.”

“Colorado? Well, you’re not in Colorado, Nathan. My name’s Christine, and you’re in Chicago.”

Nathan and Christine walked down the road, with the woman trying to provide warmth for the poor man in her hold. She’d grabbed her hunting rifle back up, after explaining that he was lucky for the timing and that she’d been out to hunt. As soon as she’d gotten set up, he’d run from the house and she knew something was wrong.

He was thankful for her rescue of him and soon he was dressed in her brother’s clothes. She’d said that her brother wouldn’t mind and that he had plenty of other clothes to wear. Then they walked back outside and hopped into her truck and made their way into the city. She didn’t live far from the police station or the city in fact. And as soon as they were out of her neighborhood, Nathan saw the familiar sights of Downtown Chicago.

It suddenly dawned on him, if she lived in Chicago, did she know about the Blackhawks?

“So who’s in trouble?”

He went for it. “Patrick Kane.”

Her eyes went wide and she stomped on the break in the parking lot of the police station. Nathan looked at her. She knew.

“Kaner? No! You mean that man who had tormented you is going after a Blackhawk?! That can’t be true. Jonny and the boys wouldn’t let it happen. Besides Patrick doesn’t go anywhere without Jonathan.”

“He’ll find a way, but either way, we need to get in there and let the police know.”

“Alright. For extra precaution, I guess you are right. For an Av, you’re pretty caring of a Blackhawk.”

“We’re all hockey players in the NHL. And Kaner’s a swell guy. He doesn’t deserve any of what I had to go through.”

“Right.”

They parked and rushed into the station.


Detective Lassiter was at his makeshift desk. He was bored out of his mind and he was trying to make sense of the serial killer running rampant in Chicago. A voice broke him from his thoughts. It was O’Hara. She was livid with raw excitement and horror at the same time. It was rather perplexing to the Head Detective from Santa Barbara.

“Lassiter, there’s a man and woman here exclaiming that they need to speak with police or someone. I told them I’d get you.”

“Good. Dump them on me. Thanks O’Hara.”

Juliet frowned. “Come on. They said that they have news on a serial killer.”

That made the man perk up. He jumped to his feet. “Take me to them!”

The two headed down the hall and into the room where the two were. The Avalanche forward stood up. Despite the battered look, he looked confident and serious.

“Carlton, this is--”

“Nathan MacKinnon,” a voice finished for her.

Everyone turned to see Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster coming toward them. Shawn was doing his fingers to the forehead, psychic thing. Carlton sighed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Don’t worry Lassie, I’m here to help out.”

“Oh goodness.”

Nathan nodded. “I am he. Do I know you?”

“No, I’m a psychic, you see, I work for the Santa Barbara police department.”

“Oh, isn’t that in California though?”

“Yes. But nevermind.”

“Spencer, you can stay, but shut up and let me talk to the man. He’s been through a lot I can see.”

Nathan gulped but nodded again. Behind him a woman stood up and patted him.

“It’ll be okay. Tell them what happened. I’m going to go ahead and get back to my house, but it was nice meeting you. I guess I’m a Colorado-Chicago fan now!” She gave him a smile and started to walk off. But she halted, as Gus stepped in her path.

“Hey, you’re very pretty.”

“Thank you, but can I go?”

“You hear about Pluto, that’s messed up right?”

Christine shook her head and pushed past him. She walked out of the station and headed to her truck. Gus shrugged and returned to Shawn’s side. Shawn was busy doing his psychic reading of Nathan, glimpsing the cuts and bruises and burn marks of him. He finished and turned to Gus.

“Man, this poor guy HAS been through a lot.”

“Yeah, this killer isn’t messing around. He’s serious and demented. What human being could do something like that?”

“I don’t know. But, can I talk to you for a second.” Shawn nodded his head to the side and they stepped away, as Carlton rolled his eyes and started to calmly talk to Nathan. “Man, this serial killer is obvious after blond haired men with blue eyes.”

“But Shawn, you’re one of them!”

“Yeah, but so is Patrick Kane.”

“Patrick Kane, the Blackhawk?”

“Yeah.”

“But I doubt he’d get kidnapped by the killer, I mean he’s got his friends with him.”

“The same could’ve been said about Nathan MacKinnon, there. He’s just like Patrick.”

“You’re right.”

They paused for silence, which was rare for them.

“What are we gonna do then?”

“We gotta let Lassie know and have someone check on Patrick,” Shawn said. “No psychicness need here. Kaner’s in danger.”

They walked back over to the trio.

“Lassie, what ya got?”

Carlton frowned but sighed and filled him in on what Nathan had told him. It was basically how he had been taken from Colorado and brought to Chicago and what he’d gone through and how he’d escaped. But there was a key other piece of information. Nathan had told them, much to their dread, that there was a partner.

A second man.

Someone named Frederick Crosby or Fred.

That seemed to change things. Now they had a smart duo of killers running around Chicago, going after blond haired, blue eyed men. That was comforting to know!

There was a startled pause and silence, before Shawn went into one of his psychic episodes.

“What’s he doing? Is he okay?” Nathan questioned, bewildered at the scene.

“He does this all the time. It’s nothing. C’mon Spencer, just tell us what you see!?” Carlton spat, unamused at the waste of time and acting.

Shawn paused and put his hand on Gus’s head. “I call upon Magic Head. There is a man in danger. He is a blond haired, blue eyed man.”

“It’s you, we won’t let the killers get you.”

“No! It is someone else. His name is Patrick Kane! He’s in serious danger.”

Nathan’s eyes flew open wide. “He lives in the city. He’s a Chicago Blackhawk! Your psychic is right. You should check on him. Keith, the killer, said that he was going to go after him.”

Carlton hit his palm to his head, but he spun on his heel and shouted out, “MCNAB! Check in on Patrick Kane, he’s a Chicago Blackhawk!”

Shawn nodded, regaining control of himself. Nathan was watching him, with a strange look on his face. Carlton turned back.

“Thank you Nathan, do you need any help getting back to Colorado? I can have some get you there and assure your safety.”

Nathan smiled finally. “That would mean alot. I’d like that.”

The detective called another officer over and instructed him on what he was to do. Then he came over and led Nathan out of the station. They walked out and vanished. Shawn and Gus looked at Carlton and Juliet. They were all anxiously awaiting the response from Buzz McNab on his check-in call. And the new information was swimming in their heads, as they were trying to get a grip on what to do about the serial killers in Chicago.

After a few minutes, Buzz came down the hall to them and he didn’t look happy at all. “Well, I talked to Jonathan Toews, he said that he and Patrick got into a huge fight and that Patrick Kane has been missing for a few days now. In other words, Patrick Kane is missing.”

Notes

So I was trying to figure out how to possibly have Kinny escape, since Keith Ballard isn't known to be one to mess up or fail. But, I hope this works...I thought it would be neat to see him get to into it and mess up.
Haha I'm gonna need to bring this up to Steve Franks and see if he could make this like an extra little special or movie or something! Man, this would be so cool to do right???? :P
Of course, there would be an actor issue maybe, but I can see it working out and being quite a cool idea. I mean, Kazer can act together right? And Kinny's had an acting past. And it's not difficult acting...but poor Nathan MacKinnon (and Patrick Kane)!! :(
The NHL has a lot of blue eyes blondies on the ice! Check it out...at least half of the players involved have these characteristics! ;)


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