T.N - Chapter 3

He gave me a rather conceited half-smile. “Well then, Theo, you can call me The Tiger for now. Are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I can be with my arms tied behind me for an hour and in a hard chair,” I quipped, and stared into his eyes. The Tiger’s eyes are a warm hazel green, and they stared back at me without wavering.

“You are as witty as you are beautiful,” said the Tiger, this time with a genuine looking smile on his face. “I was told you were pretty and smart, but you’ve blown me away.”

I rolled my eyes. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that line…maybe 20? My suitors were always so unoriginal. Why does Grandfather insist I spend the rest of my life with one of those bores? I don’t care about status or money, or anything like that.

“What do you want with me?” I fully knew the answer to that. All of those suitors, all of my ‘friends’… even my parents are just after the money. Without it, I would be nothing to them.

“It’s not just the money,” he said, and stood up. “It was at first. I was going to hold you hostage, but now that I’ve seen you, I have something else in mind.” He got down on one knee in front of me. “Theo North, will you marry me?”

I just stared at him. Then I burst out into laughter. I couldn’t help myself. “Oh my, Tiger. We’ve barely known each other for 10 minutes and you’ve already proposed to me? You’ll regret it someday.”

“Oh no, I’m sure I won’t. I mean my deceased father paraded all these rather dull and empty possible fiancées in front of me. I mean, they were attractive, but so boring. Just a bunch of airheaded bimbos. And after awhile, that beauty will fade away. But you, you’re like an eternal rose, that’ll bloom forever…”

“Enough with the soppy compliments. That might’ve worked on other girls, but that’s no way to win this one’s heart,” I said, probably sounding haughtier than I wanted to. “I need someone who I know well, and who won’t bore me to death.”

“Very well then,” said the Tiger. He stood up and brushed off his pants of the dust from the floor. “I suppose we should get to know each other better.” He snapped his fingers, and the two men beside me hauled me up. “Take her to the old office. Make sure she stays there.”

The two men started marching towards the back of the warehouse, with me in tow. They dragged me up some metal stairs, which rather hurt when I stumbled. They brought me to a dusty room that overlooked where I was sitting earlier. It had a wooden desk, an old couch with the stuffing falling out and an old, dusty  fax machine by the corner.

“If you need anything, use the fax machine to call us. The number is in the address book on the desk. Wait for us to pick up,” said one of the two men, before shutting the door. I heard the click of a lock, and the footsteps of the men as they descended the stairs.

Well that did it. Now I’m being held here until I agree to marry the Tiger, or someone miraculously comes to my rescue. I collapsed onto the couch, sending pieces of couch guts flying. What now?

I glanced over at the fax machine. That’s it! I ran over to it and pressed the on button. I won’t risk calling, in case the lines are tapped. I tapped some buttons, trying to see if one of them ends up being the “fax” button. None of the buttons are labeled, which made it a lot harder.

Finally, I managed to get it set up. Now, I just needed to find some paper, and some form of writing utensil. After some scrounging, I manage to find a pad of paper in the desk’s drawer (I had to pry it open with brute strength) and a pen. Either the Tiger wasn’t careful enough to get rid of them, or thought that anybody locked in here would be too stupid to use the fax machine.

On the top of the first sheet of paper, I carefully explained my situation, and where I believe I am. I then carefully tore it off from the rest of the pad, and placed it on the tray.

I wiped the dust off of the display. On it, it read “Please type in receiver’s number and press OK.”

Shoots. Numbers are my weak spot! I can’t remember more than one figure at a time, especially phone numbers. Even Grandfather North’s number, which I’ve used so many times, escaped my mind. The only number I can remember is the one that belongs to the hotel suite I was supposed to be in.

I guess I’ll have to send it there. At least a maid will go there, or if they decide to cancel my reservation, the new guest will find it. I typed in the number, and pressed OK.

The fax machine coughed and sputtered, then slowly started to feed the message through. It was so noisy that I thought that one of the men would hear and come upstairs to investigate. Thankfully, no one did.

The message fed through properly without jamming the machine, somehow. Now, I just need to wait for a reply. I decided to take a nap. After this morning, I’m exhausted. I lay myself down on the couch, trying to avoid the spots where the couch was slit open. I closed my eyes, and within moments, I was asleep.