Seven, eight ... Gonna stay up late (Rebekka Franck #4) by Willow Rose
Authors: Willow Rose
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here, you sick
bastard," Princess Amalie said.
He approached and looked at her inside of her
box. "Tsk. Tsk. Now is that a way to talk for a young royal lady like
yourself?" He said.
She hit her hand hard into the plastic while
grunting. She seemed feeble, weak from starvation and thirst. That was good.
Once he began what he had prepared for her, she would long to feel like that
again.
Camilla grunted and started hitting the box with
her fist.
"Don't bother. You'll only wear your pretty
little self out," Allan said to her while taking down the body hanging on
the hook. Camilla gasped when she realized what it was. Allan threw the body in
the corner of the room, and then covered it with a black plastic bag. Then he walked
to Camilla's box and knocked on it. "It's armored plastic. A bullet won't
even be able to go through it. Cost me a lot of money to have it made, but it
was well worth it."
"What do you want from us? Why are you
keeping us in here?" Amalie yelled.
Allan turned his head like an owl and smiled.
"Because I can," he said.
"Please," Camilla pleaded. It was pure
music to Allan's ears. How he loved and craved the sound of a pleading victim.
How he dreamt about it at night.
"Please let us go. We'll never tell anybody
who you are or what you look like. We'll do anything you want us to."
Allan lit up and grinned. He liked the sound of
that. "Well I don't need to set you free to get you two to do exactly what
I want," he said. "All I want you to do, or rather all I want to do
to you, is right in here. There is no need to get you out of those boxes."
Then he giggled and picked the jar up from the
table. Like a magician he removed the dishcloth while exclaiming
"Ta-da!"
Allan grinned as he watched the girl's eyes
become big and wide. Then he closed his and enjoyed the sound of what came
next. The sound of both of them screaming for their lives.
Chapter 26
"I had to do it, I'm not going to be sorry for it," I said into the phone. "I
didn't want to leave this town and the two girls without at least letting the
world know what happened to them."
I held the phone far from my ear while Jens-Ole
yelled in the other end. "No documentation ... whatsoever! No police
statement, no nothing. Now I have to explain to the entire world ... explain
what to them? I don't even know! What the hell is going on?"
"Those girls were kidnapped. I'm positive.
I had no way of finding their parents since I didn't know Camilla's last name
and I don't believe I would be given permission to talk to the royal family,
being stark raving mad as the entire world thinks I am. This is my way of
helping the girls, I just pray that some good will come out of it. That's it.
You can fire me if you want to."
Jens-Ole grunted a couple of times in the other
end. "You know I'm not going to fire the damn best reporter I have,"
he said. "I’ve been called upstairs to explain myself to the big bosses
later today. I'll fight for you, but can't promise you anything."
I smiled and looked at Sune. He was sitting next
to his backpack with his phone in his hand waiting for me to be done so we
could drive home. He looked like a little boy waiting for his mother.
"I can't ask for anything more," I
said.
"Hmf." Jens-Ole went quiet. I was
about to say goodbye, when he spoke: "But it is a damn good story, if it
turns out to be true," he growled. "Is it true?"
"Yes. The kidnapper called me last night. I
think he wanted to brag or something. He said he had the girls."
Jens-Ole inhaled sharply in the phone. He was
thinking hard, I could tell. "You should try and contact the police again.
Tell them he called. Yes, do that, then drive back home. We might need to send
you back to Roskilde again soon if there's a development in the case."
"Does that mean we're on the case?"
Jens-Ole grunted again. "It's all yours.
Make me proud."
Then he hung up. I looked at Sune. "Sounds
like your plan worked," he said. "It was what you wanted, wasn't
it?"
"I had hoped for
bastard," Princess Amalie said.
He approached and looked at her inside of her
box. "Tsk. Tsk. Now is that a way to talk for a young royal lady like
yourself?" He said.
She hit her hand hard into the plastic while
grunting. She seemed feeble, weak from starvation and thirst. That was good.
Once he began what he had prepared for her, she would long to feel like that
again.
Camilla grunted and started hitting the box with
her fist.
"Don't bother. You'll only wear your pretty
little self out," Allan said to her while taking down the body hanging on
the hook. Camilla gasped when she realized what it was. Allan threw the body in
the corner of the room, and then covered it with a black plastic bag. Then he walked
to Camilla's box and knocked on it. "It's armored plastic. A bullet won't
even be able to go through it. Cost me a lot of money to have it made, but it
was well worth it."
"What do you want from us? Why are you
keeping us in here?" Amalie yelled.
Allan turned his head like an owl and smiled.
"Because I can," he said.
"Please," Camilla pleaded. It was pure
music to Allan's ears. How he loved and craved the sound of a pleading victim.
How he dreamt about it at night.
"Please let us go. We'll never tell anybody
who you are or what you look like. We'll do anything you want us to."
Allan lit up and grinned. He liked the sound of
that. "Well I don't need to set you free to get you two to do exactly what
I want," he said. "All I want you to do, or rather all I want to do
to you, is right in here. There is no need to get you out of those boxes."
Then he giggled and picked the jar up from the
table. Like a magician he removed the dishcloth while exclaiming
"Ta-da!"
Allan grinned as he watched the girl's eyes
become big and wide. Then he closed his and enjoyed the sound of what came
next. The sound of both of them screaming for their lives.
Chapter 26
"I had to do it, I'm not going to be sorry for it," I said into the phone. "I
didn't want to leave this town and the two girls without at least letting the
world know what happened to them."
I held the phone far from my ear while Jens-Ole
yelled in the other end. "No documentation ... whatsoever! No police
statement, no nothing. Now I have to explain to the entire world ... explain
what to them? I don't even know! What the hell is going on?"
"Those girls were kidnapped. I'm positive.
I had no way of finding their parents since I didn't know Camilla's last name
and I don't believe I would be given permission to talk to the royal family,
being stark raving mad as the entire world thinks I am. This is my way of
helping the girls, I just pray that some good will come out of it. That's it.
You can fire me if you want to."
Jens-Ole grunted a couple of times in the other
end. "You know I'm not going to fire the damn best reporter I have,"
he said. "I’ve been called upstairs to explain myself to the big bosses
later today. I'll fight for you, but can't promise you anything."
I smiled and looked at Sune. He was sitting next
to his backpack with his phone in his hand waiting for me to be done so we
could drive home. He looked like a little boy waiting for his mother.
"I can't ask for anything more," I
said.
"Hmf." Jens-Ole went quiet. I was
about to say goodbye, when he spoke: "But it is a damn good story, if it
turns out to be true," he growled. "Is it true?"
"Yes. The kidnapper called me last night. I
think he wanted to brag or something. He said he had the girls."
Jens-Ole inhaled sharply in the phone. He was
thinking hard, I could tell. "You should try and contact the police again.
Tell them he called. Yes, do that, then drive back home. We might need to send
you back to Roskilde again soon if there's a development in the case."
"Does that mean we're on the case?"
Jens-Ole grunted again. "It's all yours.
Make me proud."
Then he hung up. I looked at Sune. "Sounds
like your plan worked," he said. "It was what you wanted, wasn't
it?"
"I had hoped for
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