Val’s POV

The Войны halted abruptly. I sniffled and attempted to peer out through the crack in the flaps at the back of the vehicle. But I couldn’t see much and I was afraid of what might happen if I moved without permission. The man had his gun cocked on me and I gripped my hockey stick full of anxiety.

“Что происходит? (What’s going on?)” I managed to ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. Who wouldn’t be as scared as I was at that moment? I had no idea what was going on...the truck always came around and threatened us, but no one EVER got kidnapped or captured.

Something was going on here. But what?

The man with the gun turned to me and spoke in English to me, which was bizarre. “Little Russian boy, shut up! What happens to you will happen, so you should just stop fighting and give in to it. Now, let’s get you out of here and get you started on your work.”

I didn’t want to know what he said or what was going to happen, but I had no choice. Somehow I knew it wasn’t good. I was about to find out how right I was. The chains were removed, but I was bound by some rope around my wrists. I was able to keep a hold of my hockey stick, which I decided to name “клюшка” or “Klyushka.” (Which was actually Russian for hockey stick.) It was just Klyushka and me.

The gunman hopped out the back and before I knew it, three pairs of arms seized me and dragged me out of the protection of the truck. I made sure to grip on tight to my hockey stick as it was the only thing I had. They set me down and grabbed some other items. I decided to take a look around me.

A sign that read “Kazakhstan” was positioned in dirt and I assumed that it was the border of the country and Russian. But what was I doing in Kazakhstan? And then it hit me...this wasn’t war related, it was something else. Something much darker.

Gunman, whose name I learned was actually Abdul jammed the barrel of his gun against my back and forced me to walk forward. I did so, not wanting to have the weapon go off and kill me. There was still hope that someone might find me and save me.

I was forced into a small farm-looking place. I saw a few other small boys, but they weren’t Russian and they looked rather upset and angry looking. I tightened my hold on Klyushka. I ended up being halted at the entrance to some kind of “slave house”. It was small, but I was apparently the only one who had been taken.

That was made clear, when I was shoved inside roughly by the back end of the rifle gun. I stumbled inside, but managed to catch myself with Klyushka as my crutch. I spun around to see the man enter. He tossed the gun to one of his partners and then shoved me backward onto a makeshift bed. I almost dropped my stick, but I quickly tightened my hold on it with both hands. I wasn’t going to let him take it from me.

“Hockey players!” the man sneered, much me bewilderment.

He signaled to his other friend, who didn’t have the gun to come in. He did. He was a short brown haired man. And I do mean short. His amber eyes glowed with a darkness.

“Is this the one you wanted?” Abdul asked him.

“Yes,” the newcomer stated, with a sly smirk. “Yes, I believe this is the Russian asshole who will become a threat to me!”

I was utterly confused. I gazed between both of them, unsure what was going on. I was too frightened to ask, but all I knew was that they were not Russian and they seemed to want me for some reason. Whatever the hell that reason was?

“What should we do to him?” Abdul continued, tossing his head in my direction.

The small man dropped down and looked me in the eyes. He looked kind of rat-like and I could see that he was incredibly mad...at me? I had no idea. But he was angry at someone. He bit his lip in thought, and I held my breath, wondering what he was going to do.

“Пожалуйста, не верьте мне на клюшку! (Please, don't take my hockey stick!)” I managed to squeak out.

(It was at this moment that I shoved my computer back and got up and walked off. I returned with a bag of popcorn and sobbed as I imagined this horrible scene...)

The rat man cleared his throat. “I’m Canadian, so I don’t understand you, but my friend can translate. I thought I would need him.” He turned his head and called for the man who was now holding the gun. “Alexander!”

Alexander stepped forward and nodded his head. He translated what the man had just said, plus the next part of his speech. “Я канадец, так что я не понимаю тебя, но мой друг может перевести. Я думал, что я должен был бы его. Меня зовут Брэд и вы Валерий. Вал, для краткости. Я знаю много о вас. (I’m Canadian, so I don’t understand you, but my friend can translate. I thought I would need him. My name is Brad and you are Valeri. Val, for short. I know a lot about you.)”

“Как вы знаете мое имя? (How do you know my name?)” I asked, shifting into a more comfortable position, but remaining tense and on my guard.

The translator translated my response to the man known as Brad. He stood up and sat down on the bed beside me. He lifted his hand up and reached out toward my head.

“Это не важно. Но вы собираетесь сделать мне больно и я не могу этого допустить. Я должен уничтожить вас. (It isn't important. But you are going to hurt me and I can not allow that. I must destroy you.)”

“Почему? (Why?)”

“Обидно очень. Вы имели такое обещание. Жаль, что вы должны были встретиться Тайлер и Джейми. (It's a shame really. You had such promise. Too bad you had to meet Tyler and Jamie.)”

Who were Tyler and Jamie? I wasn’t sure what was going on? I was so wrapped up with my thoughts, that I loosened the grip on Klyushka and Brad snatched the hockey stick from me.

“Нет, Klyushka!!” I screamed. “Нет! Нет!”

I launched forward, trying to swipe out and get my stick back, but I failed miserably and ended up throwing myself off the bed and onto the floor. I struggled to push myself up and saw Brad looking Klyushka over, with genuine interest.

“Klyushka? I take it that must mean hockey stick or that’s the name of it. That’s cute.”

I didn’t like his sarcastic tone and I didn’t exactly need a translation for that one, I could use context clue to tell he was mocking me. I was on the verge of tears, as I begged him to give it back to me. He shook his head.

“No, I think I’m going to keep this with me. You won’t need it anyway. Abdul, Alexander, tie him up and lock him away. He will not ruin my future!!” Brad ordered, stepping to the side, into the doorway. He held Klyushka in his hands, as I was yanked to by feet kicked and punched and beaten senselessly by the two helpers. The rope around my wrists was removed. I screamed and fought them, but they were stronger and bigger than I was. They won the battle. I was instead shoved over to the corner, opposite the bed, where I was chained up to the wall.

(I can’t do this...I really can’t do this...it is too sad! Poor Valeri Nichushkin...Evelyna’s gonna come and rescue you sweetie, hang in there!)

They clamped shackles over my wrists and ankles, but unlike the ones I’d been bound with in the truck, these were prisoner-style and much tougher. I lunged forward, but the chains clattered and halted my progress, pulling me backward. I was tethered helplessly and unable to escape.

I snapped my head up to see Brad standing in the doorway still. He was watching me and smiling. He was cackling evilly, like some kind of movie villain. What was happening and going on? Why had they kidnapped me? Why had they bound me with chains and ropes? And who were Tyler and Jamie?

My head swam with cluttered thoughts, but I only had one priority that I could think about. I wanted...no I needed my hockey stick. I frantically jerked at the chains, but got nowhere. It frustrated me so much that I lost it.

“Нет, Klyushka! Нет! Пожалуйста, пожалуйста, дайте мне его обратно...девятка! (No, Klyushka! No! Please, please, let me have it back...I want it!)” I wailed, feeling the tears burst from my eyes.

Brad rolled his eyes, threw Klyushka back at me, without a care and walked out. It clattered on the ground noisily in front of me. The door banged shut on me and I could hear the faint laughter of the three bad guys outside. A key locked the door, trapping me inside, as if they thought that the chains wouldn’t hold me forever. I launched forward once more and managed to grab Klyushka and pull the stick back into my hold. I hugged it close to me, as best I could in the restraints of the chains.

“Мне так жаль, Klyushka, вы единственный положительный у меня есть в моей жизни прямо сейчас. Не оставляй меня никогда снова! (I'm so sorry Klyushka, you are the only positive I have in my life right now. Do not leave me ever again!)”

I knelt down on the ground and touched my hockey stick, running my fingers along the grip and shaft. It was a good, durable stick and it had been with me for a few years now. But it was my favorite stick. I would cherish it...I would cherish Klyushka.

Notes

This one took me literally an entire four days just to get through...the mental image with this, is just too saddening...
Poor Val...Klyushka...sadness....gonna cry again... 8(((((
BAD BRAD! BAD!


Next up: Bennguin <3 Jamie is falling hard for Tyler and viva versa!