Enjoy what goes on in my head...

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Run

by: Ashley Lemus

The tv flickered on in the darkened room. It was only one in the morning, but Ambrose had found sleep was not his friend at the moment when it came to being nervous about finals at his high school. He brush one hand through his short shandy blond hair, out of the way of his hazel eyes.

At this time in the morning all that was on was the news. That did not bother him to much. He settle with one station with a story he had been following, part of one class as a current event, oh joy.

A man’s picture was on screen, it was a full shot of him instead of an up close on his face like was usual for the news. They had not been able to get a better one. His hair was just longer then Ambrose’s, and it was pure and perfect shimmering gold. His features were smooth, flowing, but male, nice to look at.

Ambrose kept the volume down so that he would not wake his mother. The man’s name was Valmont Val-Jean, age twenty three, height six two, defining feature, one frost blue eye, one frost green. He was an escaped convict, having been a serial killer that had taken fifteen lives. No one had broken him to find out why he had done it or what his trigger was. He had gotten away when he was being taken to a different prison, he had gotten a gun (police were still trying to figure out how he had gotten one), shot the cops leaving them alive, and ran. This had been over four months ago.

Ambrose looked at the picture as it went back to the news broadcaster. Valmont had gotten away somewhere in New York. Good to be in Georgia. Ambrose thought with a sigh.

“And a witness has thought to have seen Valmont near Atlanta, Georgia...” Ambrose’s mouth dropped. That was to creepy to think that Valmont could be anywhere near him. He shivered and hopped that the person to have seen him had been wrong.

Ambrose heard scratching then and rolled his eyes. He looked at the golden retriever pup that was scratching at the front door of the apartment. He sighed and stood up, walking into his bedroom to grab a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He slid his shoes on as he picked up the leash. The pup jumped at his legs as he bent down to attach the leash to the collar.

He opened the door and walked down the hall toward the elevator. “One in the fucking morning, why do you always have to go at one in the fucking morning?” The pup only pulled him along, giving no answer.

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This was the last thing he needed. He ran along ally after ally, dodging from shadow to shadow trying to stay hidden. He had let someone recognize him, stupid. The gun he had was in his hand, but he kept his hand hidden by his coat. He needed a different plan now.

And low and behold he found it as he stopped at the edge of the last ally. A teenager, maybe seventeen, short sandy blond hair shorter then he, maybe just at five ten, had the great possibility of having every girl at his school after him...but the puppy was going to have to get lost...

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Ambrose looked at the pup as he sniffed along the side walk while they walked toward the park. It was only a five minute walk, thank god. Ambrose looked about as they reached the grass. It was dark as ink outside except for the street lamps, the stars blocked out. He was alone for all he could see. He felt the pup tug at the leash and he looked down.

“Alright, you know to come back in less then fifteen minutes.” That much he could train the pup to do. He unhooked the leash and watched the dog run off.

He smiled watching the small fuzz ball bound away. He heard a twig snap behind him. Ambrose froze and began to turn slowly. Cold metal pressed into his tempt.

“Please, do not move.” A rich voice said, a heavy french accent hung on every word, but the words were clear. “I need you to be calm and quiet or I’ll be force to shoot you. Now, come with me.” Ambrose’s first reaction was to scream, but instead he tried to bolt. He felt a body that had to outweigh his one ten by at least fifteen pounds slam into his back and shove him to the ground.

Ambrose struggled, but he was pressed into the soft grass, the man above him taking hold of his wrists and twisting them behind his back. He yelped and the gun was at his temple again. “That was foolish...just come with me and I wont have to kill you. Don’t worry, in a while I’ll let you go.”

“Oh god! What are you!? Some sick freak pervert!?” Ambrose cried.

“Non.” he said. “I have no reason for such things. Now come on.” Ambrose was jerked to his feet, and shoved along so that he could not see the face of his kidnapper, but still feel the gun in his back, pressing into his spine.

A hand dipped into his back pocket and that’s when he remembered he had car keys in there still. Ambrose began to beat himself mentally, yeah, make it easier for the kidnapper.

“Where is the car?” The man asked, the gun pressing in harder.

“Outside my apartment building.” Ambrose answered in a shaky voice. He was told the lead the way to it and he did, right to the only black one out there. He was shoved into the passenger side seat and over to the diver’s as the other got in. The keys were given to him.

“Drive.” His kidnapper order. He did not look at the other, but did as told. “I don’t care where, just drive for now, out of here.” Ambrose nodded nervously and pulled out into the empty street.

Morning light was coming as they entered onto back roads. Ambrose dared a glance at his kidnapper and his mouth dropped. “V-Valmont Val-Jean!” He about shouted. The man looked at him with a smile meant to melt many a heart and heat the body.

“I see I am famous.” Ambrose gulped. The Valmont next to him was different slightly then his picture. His hair was past his waist in a braid and died black, the color looked good against his pale skin, and his eyes were both frost green, contacts. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What!” Ambrose snapped. “Do you get off on knowing about your victims before you kill them!?” He asked. Valmont frowned and Ambrose gulped again. “I’m sixteen-”

“Merde !” Valmont spat, making Ambrose jump.

“W-what?”

“In english, shit!” Valmont rubbed his eyes with one hand, the other hand held the gun in his lap out of sight. “I thought you were at least eighteen. This is all I need, a sixteen year old.”

“Thanks.” Ambrose said softly, feeling a flush on his cheeks. Valmont sighed.

“I am...sorry.” He admitted. Ambrose had not expected an apology. Valmont took a breath. “I really do intend to release you after a few days. I just needed someone because they were close to catching me. I...panicked.” The teen nodded.

Valmont looked ahead. “There, there is an inn not to far up ahead, we can stop there...and I expect you to be wise and behave.” Ambrose nodded again. “Good, what is your name.”

“Ambrose...” He answered.

Valmont was silent a moment. “Do not worry, Ambrose, you will leave my side alive and in perfect health.” Ambrose would not admit it, but he was afraid and really did want to cry.

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Well, I really do have to much free time...