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Night	By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 1080 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Shield, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: - I don�t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Night- Chapter 3

Something was very wrong, his head felt all fuzzy like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and he hurt. His arms and shoulders were really painful and there was an uncomfortable throbbing in his left hand. He needed to wake up; he needed to open his eyes. He heard a noise in the distance, a moaning sound, and he was surprised when he realized the noise was coming from him. With what felt like a supreme effort he slowly dragged his eyes open, and started when he realized he still couldn�t see. There was something over his eyes, a cloth, a blindfold. Reality came crashing into his mind like a freight train. He�d been blindfolded and his upper body hurt so much because his arms had been drawn up above his head and tied with rope, which he could feel cutting into his wrists. He tried to get his feet under him properly to take the ht oht of his body which was being taken fully by his arms and shoulders, no wonder they felt like they were being ripped out of their sockets. It was then that he discovered that his feet were also tied with rope. It wound around his ankles and was used to somehow anchor him to the floor. With the pressure on his upper body relieved, and after the initial burn in his now relaxing arm muscles had subsided he tried to calm himself to take stock of his situation.

The fuzzy feeling in his brain was dissipating rapidly and memories came rushing forward to fill the gap. He�d been at home asleep when he�d been attacked. He could remember a huge weight on his back; being held down and the sensation of suffocation as something had been forced over his nose and mouth. He realized that there had been something on the cloth, it had had a sweet, cloying smell, overpowering and sickly. God he was in so much trouble, panic began to rise inside his chest. He could feel himself on the verge of hyperventilating as he remembered something else from his attack, while he had been held down on his bed he had felt his attacker�s erection ping ing into his lower back. Questions whirled at a hundred miles an hour through his head, why was he here, what was his kidnapper�s agenda?

A noise in front of him, a shung sng sound, someone else was here watching him. Dutch took a steadying breath trying to calm himself down, now was not the time to fall apart no matter how much he wanted to. He quickly assessed his situation, he�d been kidnapped and was being held against his will, experience had taught him that these situations rarely had a good outcome for the victim. He also knew that his disappearance would be noticed, as soon as he didn�t show up for work in the morning Claudette would realize that something was up. Then the search for him would begin, but he knew that it would take time to find him, and he also knew that time might not be a luxury he had. Events would take place now according to his abductor�s timetable and the only thing he could do was try to buy himself time. He knew from his extensive reading that many kidnappers regarded their victims as mere objects, there for their satisfaction. This disassociation made it much easier for the victim to be murdered; they were not seen as real people and so were totally expendable. The most important thing in a situation like this was to become a real person to your kidnapper, try to build a rapport with them. He had read that it was important to engage them in conversation if possible, to tell them about yourself and your life, in a sense to make yourself 3-dimentional to them. There was the noise again closer this time, definitely in front of him.

"Who�s there, what do you want?" Dutch asked, annoyed that his voice faltered betraying his fear. There was no reply and Dutch felt himself reaching out with of of his senses to try to locate the other person. He held his breath straining to hear above the fierce beating of his heart that seemed to thunder in his ears. Nothing,

"Look I know there�s someone here, so why don�t we talk about this, try to sort things out before they get out of control." Pausing he waited for a reply but heard nothing. He couldn�t shake the feeling, which was getting stronger, that he was b wat watched.

"My name�s Dutch Wagenbach, and I think you should know I�m a cop, and you�re going to be in a whole world of trouble if anything happens to me. Now the best thing you could do is to untie me and get out of here, we don�t want this situation getting out of hand for either of us. You know I�ve not seen your face so you can get clean away and be a hundred miles from here in a couple of hours." Dutch knew he was taking a risk telling his abductor that he was a cop, but he reckoned that if the kidnapper didn�t know this already it might just spook him into taking his advice and letting him go. As the silence stretched on he guessed that plan A was a dismal failure. Time to try and come up with a plan B, but before he had a chance he felt a movement in front of him, really close, it was as if he could feel the air directly in front of him shifting as a body moved in the space. He started back, a cry of surprise bursting from his mouth when a hand touched him on the chest. It didn�t move, just rested lightly against his tee shirt above his heart. Dutch felt as if the hand was burning him, it�s heat going straight through the thin material and scorching the skin underneath. That flash of memory came unbidden to his mind again, of him being held down on his bed, suffocating and feeling the hard erection of his attacker pressing into him. There were other memories, old memories that he�d buried deeply long ago, he�d locked them away in the dark but they were trying to break free now. It took a huge effort to turn his mind away from them and concentrate on the here and now, that was a road he was determined not to take no matter what, because he wasn�t sure he�d stay sane if he did.

"P�p..please," he stuttered, and then words failed him as the hand on hisst bst began to move slowly downwards, stopping at the hem of his tee shirt. Dutch held his breath as the moment stretched on interminably, and then he felt flesh touching his flesh as the stranger�s fingers ghosted over his stomach just above the waistband of his boxer shorts. Dutch wanted to scream at this pervert to fuck off and leave him alone, he wanted to struggle against his bonds, Christ he wanted to just grab the panic he could feel welling up inside him and go with it. Calm, calm he had to be calm, not let this escalate out of control, he could still turn this around if he could just clear his head and be calm.

"Stop�um..you need to stop now, and lets talk about this, we need to talk about what�s happening here." Jesus the hand just kept on moving. Upwards now the hand pressed flat, the fingers brushing against his nipple, the fingers stroking the nub of flesh until it began to harden. Dutch could feel a scream building up in his throat and he began to move, trying to arch out of the intrusive touch but he found that his bonds meant no escape. The hand paused only momentarily and then it was moving again around his side to his back, burning his skin like acid. Dutch was convinced that if he could see where the hand had been he would see a physical mark on his skin as it dirtied his flesh, corrupting everything in its path. The fingers lightly stroked their way down his back until they again touched the waistband of his boxer�s. Slowly the very tips of the fingers were slipped under the material. Dutch couldn�t stop the whimper from escaping from his mouth; his mind was whirling, panic-stricken. The adrenaline which was coursing through his body was heightening his fear, he could hear his heart pounding in his chest it was beating so hard it felt as if it would explode at any moment. Then his breath caught in his throat as another hand slipped into his hair and grasped hold of it, and a body large and heavy pushed itself against his front. The grip in hisr tir tightened painfully as he instinctively tried to pull away, he felt a soft, warm breath ghost over his cheek and then tickle his ear as his abductor lent forwards and whispered,

"Ssshhh", as if he were soothing a frightened child.

Dutch bit down on his lower lip to stifle the sounds of terror that seemed to be escaping from his mouth of their own accord. Gone was the plan of setting up a dialogue with his kidnapper his brain was buzzing at a million miles an hour and yet failing to function properly, failing him when he needed it most, he�d always relied on his intellect and now it was gone. He doubted he could speak even if he could form a coherent sentence as his mouth had gone dry with fear. Dutch could taste his own blood on his lips as his teeth broke the skin, he started back as far as the hand gripping his hair would allow as he felt his attacker�s tongue flick over his mouth, tasting his blood. The fingers at his back began to slowly move again, circumnavigating his waist and coming to rest directly under his navel.

"No, no, no,no�.p..please stop..please don�t do this," Dutch pleaded, his voice almost failing him. He could feel his body beginning to tremble and a bead of cold sweat ran down from his forehead, across his temple and into his hair. He began to chant in his mind,

"This isn�t happening, this isn�t happening, thisisn�thappeningthisisn�thappening," the words blurring together, getting faster, more desperate. "God please don�t let this happen."

The disgusting touch only paused for a moment and then continued in its violation. When it came to rest on his genitals, cupping them possessively Dutch couldn�t hold himself together any more. His mind completely shut down and animal instinct took over, overwhelming terror took over. He bucked and writhed try to get away from the burning touch, not feeling the ropes which were now cutting into the soft skin at his wrists and ankles. His breath was coming in panicked gasps and pants as he fought to escape.

"Don�t touch me, don�t touch me you fucking bastard! Get your filthy hands off me!" the words exploded out of his mouth, the adrenaline which was flooding his system provoking the fight response as well as the flight response. The tears that were beginning to soak into the fabric of his blindfold were partly tears of fear and partly tears of anger.

The hand in his boxers unexpectantly withdrew. Relief flooded through Dutch�s body, it was going to be OK this sicko was just fucking with his head trying to freak him out, well he�d succeeded Dutch was well and truly freaked. Dutch knew he had to calm down get a handle on his emotions that were all over the place at the moment. His respite was short lived however as thnd tnd that still held his hair tightened again and pulled his head back exposing his throat. He felt a point of cold metal press against his throat, a knife. Dutch�s whole existence seemed to telescope down and focus on that one small, sharp point. He didn�t dare move, he didn�t dare swallow knowing that with only a slight increase of pressure the knife would break his skin. However, it was not his skin that his abductor was interested in breaking just now. Dutch felt the knife moving downwards, the tip scratching the skin in his neck, but not quite enough to cut although the unspoken threat was clear. It caught in the material at the neck of his tee shirt slicing it all the way open in one smooth motion. Two similar motions at each of his shoulders slicing through the arms of his shirt and he felt the torn material slip away from his body. Dutch shivered, the cold air caressing his skin making it blossom with goose flesh. He swallowed hard and felt himself beginning to withdraw into himself as the blade began to rip through the material of his boxer shorts. Dutch felt his mind reaching out within itself to find his safe place; the place buried deep where he�d be safe. It was a skill he�d learnt many years ago, when there had been a need to disassociate himself from his body sometimes. However, it was a skill he hadn�t needed for many years and he found that the practiced ease he�d once had to achieve iso isolation had deserted him. He was very much trapped in the present.

He was standing naked now in the freezing air. His attacker had moved away, letting go of his hair no longer touching him physically, but Dutch could feel the other man�s gaze on him, on his body. He could feel the heat rising under his skin, and could feel the blush of embarrassment, humiliation washing over him. Then the other man was gone; Dutch could sense his withdrawal from the room as much as the slight noises he had made as he�d left had signaled it. Now that he was alone Dutch felt as if all of his strength had left him, the adrenaline which had been coursing through him gradually sded ded leaving him exhausted and on edge.

God what was he going to do, this guy was obviously a maniac he had to get out of here soon or things were going to get so much worse and he wasn�t sure he�d survive that. Claudette would find him, he tried to reassure himself, yes she�d find him in time and he�d be fine. She would save him, rescue him and take him home. He just had to hold onto that, believe in that and hold on until she got here. Dutch just prayed it would be soon.
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