The Mating Run by Leeka (Alina and Zeek)
The Mating Run by Leeka Chapter 55

Abducted 

Darkness surrounds me, a suffocating shroud that smothers my senses. 

An unpleasant throbbing sensation lingers persistently at the back of my head. 

My eyes flutter open, but there’s no light, only an abyss of blackness. Panic claws at my throat, and for a moment, I think I’m trapped in a nightmare. But the cold reality settles in – I’m blindfolded. 

I try to move, to shake off the disorienting fog, but something restrains me. 

My wrists ache, and a shiver of fear courses through me. They’re tied behind my back, bound by some thick rope. Where am I? What happened? 

My ankles and legs are bound too, the tightness of the restraints cutting into my skin. I’m a prisoner in the darkness, limbs confined by invisible chains. I attempt to speak, to call out for help, but I can’t. A cloth, rough against my skin, is stuffed into my mouth, rendering me speechless. 

I lie on my side, vulnerable and defenseless. The air is heavy with the unknown, a thick fog that chokes my senses. Fear courses through my veins, a relentless tide that threatens to pull me under. I strain against the bindings, the desperate need for Freedom pulsating through every fiber of my being. 

My mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. 

I just had s*x with Zeke, needed to breathe, so I ditched our place. I’ve got. nothing on except his hoodie, walking over to the lake, taking a drink. There was this person behind me, but definitely not Zeke. 

That person smacked the back of my head with something and kidnapped me. 

Time stretches in the darkness, an endless expanse without markers. 

I strain my ears, hoping for a clue, a sound that might unravel the mystery. But 

there’s only silence, a profound stillness that amplifies the drumming of my own 

heartbeat. 

The cloth in my mouth muffles any attempt at sound, a cruel gag that stifles my cries for help. I want to scream, to shatter the oppressive silence, but my voice is imprisoned behind the barrier of fabric. I wonder if anyone can hear me, if there’s anyone to hear. 

Fear settles like a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach. 

What do they want from me? 

The unknown looms like a specter, casting shadows on the canvas of my thoughts. I try to shift my weight, to test the limits of my captivity, but the restraints hold me in a vice–like grip.  Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The ground beneath me is cold and unforgiving. I feel its texture through the thin fabric of my clothes. It’s a stark contrast to the warmth of shared intimacy that now feels like a distant memory. I long to free my hands, to reach out and touch the darkness, but the bindings deny me even that simple comfort. 

The air carries no familiar scent, only the sterile chill of uncertainty. I listen, hoping to catch the faintest whisper of movement, but the silence remains unbroken. It’s a vacuum, swallowing my pleas and leaving me alone with the echoes of my own thoughts. 

A sudden jolt runs through me, a realization that I’m not alone. I sense a presence, a subtle shift in the air that sends a shiver down my spine. My breath catches, and I strain to hear, to decipher the enigma that surrounds me. 

Footsteps, barely audible, resonate in the darkness. They approach with deliberate intent, each step echoing like a distant drumbeat. Fear tightens its grip, a coil winding around my chest. 

The footsteps draw closer, and I can almost feel the weight of someone’s gaze. I’m vulnerable, exposed, and the helplessness intensifies. I try to wriggle away, to escape the impending encounter, but the bindings hold me captive. 

The footsteps stop, and a heavy silence descends. I strain my ears, waiting for the next move in this macabre dance. A hand, cold against my skin, touches my cheek. 

I stiffen 

A voice, low and guttural, murmurs something unintelligible. I strain to 

understand, but the words elude me. 

The hand moves, trailing down my n*eck, leaving a trail of unease in its wake. I want to scream, to resist, but the restraints deny me that basic right. Fear blooms, a noxious flower in the garden of my captivity. 

What do they want? 

What will they do to me? 

The cloth in my mouth is yanked away, and for a moment, I gasp for air. 

The room is silent, and my heartbeat echoes in the emptiness. But the relief is fleeting. My limbs remain bound, my eyes concealed by the blindfold, and the reality of my captivity settles like a heavy shroud. 

I can feel the fabric of the blindfold pressing against my eyes, the darkness enclosing me in a claustrophobic grip. Panic rises, a tide of fear that threatens to drown me. I scream, the sound raw and desperate, a plea for freedom in the silence of my captivity. Unable to move my legs or arms, I wriggle helplessly on the ground. 

“Let me go! This isn’t part of the Mating Run! It’s against the rules!” 

My voice reverberates in the room, each word a defiance against the unknown 

captors. 

The silence that follows is unsettling. 

And then, laughter. A cold, heartless laughter that sends shivers down my spine. It’s a sound devoid of humanity, a mockery that pierces the silence like a sinister melody. I shrink back, the echoes of laughter ringing in my ears like a 

Abducted 

haunting refrain. 

A rough hand grazes my n*eck, and I recoil at the touch. 

It’s a violation, a tactile intrusion that sends revulsion coursing through me. I want to vomit, to purge the contamination of their touch. The darkness amplifies the intensity of the sensation, the unknown hand a phantom that haunts my every 

nerve. 

“Please, just let me go!” 

The laughter subsides, replaced by a heavy quiet. I can sense their presence, a malevolence that lingers in the air like a foul stench. My mind races, trying to make sense of the situation, but the blindfold veils the truth in an impenetrable shroud. 

I try to move, to free myself from the bindings that hold me captive. The ropes dig into my flesh, a reminder of my helplessness. My limbs ache, but the restraints refuse to yield. 

The rough hand on my n*eck tightens, a cruel grasp that sends a jolt of pain through me. I gasp, the agony a visceral reminder of my vulnerability. My captor’s fingers dig into my skin, squeezing with a malicious intent that leaves me trembling. 

skin. 

A voice pierces the silence, a voice that sends shivers down my spine. 

“Look at all these hickeys on your n*eck. But no mating mark, huh?” 

The words are a taunt, a mocking commentary on the symbols that adorn my 

Hickeys. The word reverberates in my mind, and I feel a flush of humiliation. My captor’s fingers release their vice–like grip, and I’m left gasping for breath. The ache shouldn’t be this intense, but it stubbornly persists. 

“No mating mark,” my captor repeats, the words laden with a sinister satisfaction. “He never changes, does he?” 

“Thought you were important to Zeke, huh?” The words land like a barrage of 

blows, each syllable a strike against my already battered spirit. “But look at your now, just another b*dy he played with.” 

I want to refute their words, to cling to the belief that there was meaning in the shared moments with Zeke. But my captor’s voice is a relentless reminder of the deception that wove its tendrils through the fabric of my existence. 

Another touch, this time gentler, traces the contours of my face. 

I flinch, repulsed by my captor’s proximity. 

“You thought you were special, didn’t you?” My captor’s words are a blade, slicing through the vestiges of my delusions. It was a harsh awakening, a truth that tarnishes the fragments of warmth I clung to in the darkness. My captor’s fingers linger on my cheek, a touch that feels like a mockery of tenderness. “No mating mark. You’re disposable, just like the rest.” 

The captor’s laughter resounds, a chorus of malevolence that mocks my vulnerability. 

“He played with you, and now you’re here. Alone. Helpless.” 

I gather the strength to speak, my voice a tremor in the oppressive silence. 

“Why am I here?” The words hang in the air, a plea for answers in the void of uncertainty. “Why did you kidnap me?” 

My captor remains silent for a moment, their breath echoing in the suffocating 

darkness. 

I clench my fists, frustration bubbling within me. 

“Tell me why! What do you want?” 

The captor’s laughter subsides, replaced by a cold calmness. 

“I need to talk with Zeke. It’s kind of frustrating that I got his flavor of the week instead of him. Why did you have to wear his hoodie? It’s not like you’re mates.” The 

captors words eche with a brutal honesty that stings. I flinch, the truth a bitter pill to swallow “You’re just another b*dy for him. You know that, don’t you?” 

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to speak again. 

Tven if that’s true, you kidnapped the wrong person. I’m nothing to Zeke,‘ The admission hurts, a confession that echoes with the captor’s damning words. “If you want something from him, you’ve made a mistake.” 

The captor’s response is a cold chuckle, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. 

“You think you know Zeke? He may not care about you, but there’s one thing he cares about. And that’s being the star of the show.” 

“… What?” 

“God, you’re an idiot.” The captor continues, their voice a sinister whisper in the darkness. “Zeke always wanted to be the hero, the one who could guarantee sponsors. If acting like a savior to you could secure him the spotlight, he would come running in an instant.” 

Suddenly, the cloth is pressed against my mouth again, and panic claws at the edges of my consciousness. 

I try to scream, to resist the encroaching darkness, but the fabric stifles any attempt at vocalization. My limbs flail in a desperate bid for freedom, the ground beneath me a chaotic blur. Fear grips me, a visceral force that propels me into a frenzied struggle against the unseen assailant. 

“Quit it,” a voice commands, a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. If there’s anyone to blame for this, it’s that murderer that you’re sleeping with. 

My captor’s hand tightens around my hair, a cruel grip that yanks me from the ground. I wince, the pain radiating through my scalp as I’m forcibly dragged across an unknown terrain. 

I want to protest, to defy my captor’s hold on me, but the cloth muffles any coherent words. My attempts at resistance are futile, and I’m left defenseless against my captor’s relentless control. 

The world around me is a disorienting blur as I’m dragged into the unknown. My surroundings remain shrouded in darkness, a void that mirrors the uncertainty of my captivity. I squirm, my b*dy wriggling in a desperate attempt to break free from my captor’s grip. 

I claw at the ground, my fingers scraping against dirt and gravel, seeking any anchor that might offer respite from my captor’s relentless pull. The pain in my scalp intensifies, a sharp reminder of my captor’s physical control over me. 

I attempt to twist my b*dy, hoping to loosen my captor’s hold, but their grip remains firm. The fabric against my mouth stifles my attempts to vocalize my fear, leaving me trapped in a silent scream that echoes in the recesses of my mind. 

My captor’s pace quickens, dragging me with an urgency that heightens my sense of dread. I can feel the uneven terrain beneath me, each jolt a painful reminder of my captor’s relentless determination. 

The captor finally comes to a stop, and I find myself dumped onto a cold surface. I gasp for breath, the fabric momentarily removed from my mouth. Before I can utter a word, the captor’s hand clamps down on my jaw, silencing any potential 

protest. 

“Stay quiet,” the captor commands, their voice a low threat that leaves no room for defiance. “Or I’ll cut your f**king tongue. I’m serious. Nod if you understand.” 

I nod, a meek acknowledgment of my defenselessness. 

The cloth is placed forcefully over my mouth once more, and I am thrust back into the suffocating silence. 

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