Humans logo

Untitled (I Don’t Have a Name for This Story Yet)

Everyone, meet Max.

By Adam HaytonPublished 5 years ago 10 min read
Like

Chapter 1

Where am I? This is not my home. This isn’t anyone’s home. The walls are barren, the floorboards are exposed and crooked, the ceiling, or lack of, has seen better days. I rise, slowly. My body aches, I try out a stretch, and it’s rejected. What’s causing that awful pain?

I lift up my shirt and holy shit. What happened to me? I’m covered in bruises. Did I get attacked? Kidnapped? Kidnapped is a real possibility. I shake that thought from my head before I go into panic mode. I’m not one to usually panic, but when faced with a kidnapping? I second guess myself.

There’s a window to the right of me, curtains drawn. Wait. It’s still dark outside? It was dark earlier. Okay, I haven’t been out for as long as I thought. Alarm bells are ringing now. My heart rate accelerates.

“Breathe Max”

I take deep breaths. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. I can make it out of here. I slightly move one of the curtains, allowing me to see absolutely nothing. It’s pitch black. I let go and slowly walk towards the door. Taking my time to ensure my silence. I lean up against the door, place my ear on the wood and listen.

I can’t hear a thing. Absolutely nothing. I don’t see a lock on this door either. I turn the doorknob, and open the door ever so slightly. I shuffle over so I’m leaning on the wall, open the door more, and leave it ajar. Stairs. Dead ahead. Lit up from the light downstairs. They go down, and round to the floor below, that’s extremely helpful. I can make my way out of this room undetected. I crouch down, breathe in and out, and leave the confines of the room.

Don’t make a sound. Don’t you dare. I slip off my trainers to silence my steps. The floorboards are being kind to me tonight. One step at a time. Still no voices by the time I reach the top of the stairs. I sit on the top step, slip my trainers back on, and make my way down.

I’m in the kitchen now, at the bottom on the stairs. There’s no one to be seen; this is peculiar. The table offers me nothing on my whereabouts. It’s wiped clean. Bare. Although I do find a hammer, and my phone in one of the drawers. It’s dead. Typical. Not a charger in sight either. I tuck my phone into my pocket and scan the rest of the room. Door to my left, no doubt taking me to the living room, then onto my way out. A cupboard that is unopened. Before I know it, I’m already making my way towards it, there could be anything in here. A weapon better than this hammer, don’t get me wrong, it’s versatile, but rather short range, and I’m not the greatest fighter with a weapon in my hand. Although judging by the immense grip I have on the handle, and the white knuckles, it’s providing some comfort. I know with one swing I can nearly kill someone. Not that there’s anyone to swing it at anyway.

As I’m turning the handle of the cupboard door, I hear the faintest sound coming from behind me. No time for hesitation, I swing the door open, slide inside, and shut the door silently. What the fuck was that behind me? I steady my breathing down and listen out. A door shuts. Voices. Unfamiliar voices. Different language too. This night has gone horribly. I can only make out two voices though, that is a positive sign. I can just about fight two Russian guys. I’ve got a hammer, that does tilt the odds, but then again, they may have guns, therefore my odds well and truly plummet. I hear them pull up chairs and sit at the table. Okay, they don’t know I’m in the cupboard. I don’t even know what’s in here. For all I know it could be spider infested. The thought of that makes me want to cry. Yes, I have a crippling fear of spiders. Not all of them, just big ones.

The slightest touch grazes my shoulder.

IT’S A SPIDER. RUN.

No Max, don’t run, remain calm. I lift my hand up, it’s the light switch hanging down. Phew. I slide my hand up halfway up the string and turn the light on, silently.

No Spiders thankfully. Two shelves either side of me. To my left are boxes of ammunition. Shotgun shells, pistol rounds, big .50cal bullets too. Jesus. That’s some serious damage stacked up. To my right, surprisingly, is my wallet, my watch, the keys to my prized Aston Martin DB5. My Grandfather's before it was mine. I smile at the sight of them. From what I can remember I’ve now got everything I had when I left my office this evening. I leave everything on the shelf for the time being, keys are extremely loud, and I’m trying to avoid attention. I need out of this cupboard.

It’s go time. I push the door open, throw the hammer at the first Russian guy I see, the left one to be exact. It collides with his temple so hard it drops him instantly. Off the chair, onto the floor, SMACK. His body is motionless. Before I have time to react the second Russian is off his chair, onto his feet and coming this way. I run and slide towards the now unconscious Russian on the floor, grab the chair he was sat on and swing it as hard as I can at his compatriot. It smashes him in the face, sending him crashing into the kitchen cupboards. Either they’re made of the weakest wood imaginable, or he weighs at least 200lbs, because the cupboards are no more. Just broken pieces of wood now. All potential weapons. He’s pretty dazed from the blow I just delivered. The chair broke in my hand leaving me with a broken chair leg. I walk over to the Russian, drag him out of the mess and stick the sharpest point up to his throat.

“Who are you, and why am I here?”

“Who I am is not important, I’m going to die anyway, we were given orders to keep you here and ask questions... questions about Dimitri–"

Fuck. That’s a name I didn’t want to hear. Dimitri Papov. I did some investigating for him a while back. He suspected his wife was cheating on him, he was right. When I showed him the pictures he nearly took my head off with the glass he was drinking from. The guy has a screw loose. Things went from bad to worse for him when his wife left him. And he’s been gunning for me ever since. His wife came up dead a short while after, followed by the poor bastard she was cheating with. I couldn’t shake the thought that those killings were a message to me. To watch my back. That’s what I had been doing until tonight. Dimitri has been off the radar for a year now, if he’s back in town, I need to sleep with both eyes open.

“I’ve said this time and again, I know nothing about Dimitri, what is it with you fucking Russians holding me hostage like this?” I press the makeshift spear harder into his throat.

“I’m sorry, but it is time for me to go.”

He reaches down. Pulls the handgun from his holster, aims up.

BANG.

For a second I panic, thinking I’ve been shot. But I glance up and nearly puke. Blood and brains all over the place. I shake my head, queasy at the sight of it. I stand up, grab my things from the cupboard, and make my way out of this wretched house.

The night air is cool and refreshing. I’m lit up by the moon. The clouds must’ve passed. Stars are out in full show tonight, it’s a nice treat. Glistening in the sky, a fusion of matter. I smile. I try to appreciate what the world has to offer, before too long it’ll all be gone. The world can offer some truly magnificent sights. Ones to savour. Like this star filled night sky. I swiped the car keys from one of their pockets, it’s only for a basic Mercedes C-Class, but it’ll get me home. I climb in, turn the ignition key, firing the car into life. The GPS lights up. I’m in New Jersey. Great. I turn the lights on and make my way.

1:00 AM

By the time I ditch the car, get myself something to eat, and reach my apartment, I’m ready to call it quits. My eyes can barely stay open. My body aches. Still. I trudge into the lobby, press the Up button on the elevator panel and wait. The doors open and I’m whisked away to my floor. I enter my apartment. First things first, put my phone on charge. I’m sure I’ve got a flurry of missed calls waiting to come through. It’s amazing what the mind longs for. Especially in this day and age of technology. Although I’ve more pressing matters on my mind at the moment, like who the hell wants to know about fucking Dimitri. I go to my desk, I’ve got files on all of the gangs, and the big names in the criminal world that reside here. This city is full of batshit crazy people and these Russians are some of them. I open the bottom drawer. Pull out the stacked file, curse at the mere sight of it, there’s so much reading. Needs must I guess. If you hadn’t guessed already, I’m a P.I (private investigator), it’s my job to have files on all kinds of people. I throw the file onto my sofa, it lands on the remote, turning the TV on. Well, that saves me a job. Walking across the room to the kitchen is an effort. My phone vibrates into life on the worktop. It’s alive, finally. I open one of my cupboards, find some Oreos, two full packs, I’m in heaven. I grab both, shut the cupboard, and sit on the kitchen side where my phone is.

‘Five missed calls’

All from Jess. Shit, she must be worried sick. Jessica Fox ladies and gentlemen, is my loving, adoring fiancé. An associate at a top law firm. She is special. Incredibly clever, and insanely beautiful. Strong willed too, being able to put up with me and my work. Sometimes it can be days where we don’t see each other. I’ll be out doing my thing, stakeouts, driving to New Jersey, being kidnapped. She’ll be kicking ass until late at night at the firm, up early in the morning, leaving the house looking stunning. It’s strange to say, but I enjoy watching her leave. There’s something about it, Jess putting her shoes on, making last minute adjustments to her hair and clothes. Then she hooks her bag on her right arm, blows me a kiss, gives me the cutest wave, and leaves in a haze of perfume and beauty. It’s a rare sight when I work this much, but my god I love it. She has her own place too, it was already hers when we met. We’re a laid back couple, at times we’ll sleep at one another’s places due to bed preference. It sounds ridiculous I know, but a memory foam mattress with three of the softest blankets known to man, and the comfiest pillows in the world, it’s hard to resist sometimes. I tear open into one of the packs of Oreos and call Jess back.

Beep beep.

Beep beep.

Beep beep.

“Max?! Where on earth have you been?”

“Hey baby, I’m sorry, I kinda got kidnapped by some Russian guys, it’s okay though, I’m home, safe, little worse for wear, but I’m okay.” I undersell my wounds to avoid Jess worrying.

“I’m coming over, I’ve been worried sick about you, you’re no doubt in worse condition than what you’re making out, sit tight Mister, I’ll be there soon, I love you.”

She ends the call before I get a chance to reply. What a saint Jess is. I feel better already. The thought of her being here just warms my heart. I place my phone back down on the counter, eat some glorious Oreos, sit down on the sofa, and await Jess’ arrival.

humanity
Like

About the Creator

Adam Hayton

Hi, I’m Adam.

With my writing, I’m hoping to cover everything from non-fiction to fiction, love and lies all the way to happiness and special moments. Writing is my passion and I hope to share that with you all.

My Twitter is: MellowAdz21

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.