Beware the Bull

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Calvin’s eyes burned as he slowly adjusted his blurry vision to the bright source of light pointing to his face. It took him a while to awaken from his slumber and assess his current situation: he was laying on a shabby double bed with two pillows, to its side there was a nightstand with a jar of water, an empty glass, a pill laid on top of a piece of paper and a piece of cake. There was no other furniture in the room. He still wore the same salmon polo shirt and khaki shorts from last night, but his shoes were on the ground by the bed.

The questions bothering Calvin at that moment where ‘where the hell am I’ and ‘what the hell am I doing here’.

Still confused, he got up and felt suddenly dazed, being forced to sit down again to recollect his forces. Only then Calvin noticed that there was a stinging red spot in his forearm, begging to be scratched. There was a small and faint but noticeable red dot in the middle of it, too. A kind of bruise commonly created by a needle, he thought.

After getting up a second time, he walked to the open window. A pair of thin bed sheets, dancing to the wind and barely blocking the sunlight, were used as a make-shift curtain, held up by a pair of clothespins. Calvin pulled them apart and a gust of wind brought the scents of grass, rain and flowers to his nose as they revealed iron bars blocking the passage to outside.

The scenery was foreign to him: hills covered by forests everywhere he could see, with only one or two houses far in the horizon. Few areas for plantations, too. Near to his room was a reasonably vast empty area, with about 50mt of nothing but freshly cut grass.

Calvin put his hands in his head and breathed heavily. “Okay, okay, calm down. Try to remember, how have I come here? Where was I yesterday?” He turned around, spotted the door and instantly ran towards it.

It wouldn’t open. “Hello?” he screamed. “Anyone? I’m locked in here. Is anyone here?”

A few seconds have passed. No sounds from the other side. He kept knocking, then punching the door. “Hello? Anyone! Please, help!”

“You’re an idiot and an asshole, Calvin, that’s why!”

“Shuddup, Reg, fuck off!” Calvin scoffed, one hand holding a cold compress in his right eye and the other swirling a glass of whiskey. “How’s that MY FAULT? He charged at me, you saw it!”

“Yeah, because you took his girlfriend off his arms and pulled her for a kiss, perhaps that was it? Tsc, Calvin,” Reg said, pushing his juice away from him, “you can’t just do what the hell you want. You’re not above others.”

“That only happened because that idiot has no idea who I am! He’s probably new in this club, everyone knows about me here.”

“Calvin, you’re nothing, you’re a fucking joke. Your father is something, you’re just taking advantage of his power. I’m fucking done with you,” said Reg as he hammered some money on the counter. “Keep the change,” he said to the bartender, “and good luck driving yourself home, you drunk jerk.”

Calvin just shrugged as Reg left. “As if I needed you! Please, pour one more for me,” he added, raising the glass to the bartender.

“Right away, sir,” the bartender answered. “Rough night, huh? I’m still impressed the bouncer didn’t throw you both out. I was told people here doesn’t care much for prestige when it comes to troublemakers,” he said, pouring one more shot to Calvin.

“Are you new here? These people respect me. They know it wasn’t my fault,” Calvin said, drinking the shot in one go.

“If you say so.”

“Humph,” Calvin said. He turned his eyes to the bartender to check on his likeness. Indeed, he had no recollection of seeing him here. A tall, muscular man, well trimmed beard, pointed chin and gray hair on his temples. “I’ll let that go for now. Go find someone else to bother, I’ll go dance.”

The bartender put the whiskey bottle down and excused himself. “Enjoy your night, sir.”

Calvin waited for the bartender to turn away and cunningly snatched the bottle away. “That’s on you,” he whispered to himself, then threw the compress to the other side of the counter and left to the dance floor.

It was as if nothing happened: Calvin was back on aggressively hitting on women, although with diminishing success due to his drunkenness and his not-so-charming alcoholic breath. Defeated, he leaned on a wall safe from the bouncer’s vigilant eyes and set to finish the bottle until he crossed sights with a woman standing on steps on the opposite side of the hall, above the people dancing. She smiled at him, then delved into the crowd.

Only to reappear right in front of Calvin.

Ebony skin, with a voluminous Afro hair and thick lips. Likely older than him as well, Calvin thought. “You’re not going to finish this by yourself, will you?” She said, closing the gap between their bodies and grabbing the bottle.

“Maybe?” He answered, closing the grip on the bottle and bringing it closer to him to further close the gap between them. “What’s in it for me for sharing the bottle?”

“Oh, quite güvenilir bahis the negotiator, aren’t you? This is one of the expensive ones, right? I’ve never tried that one. Come on and be a gentleman, okay? How about a kiss?”

Calvin smiled and gently held her chin with his thumb and pointer. “Now that’s some offer. How about you pay me now?”

The woman wrapped her free arm around his neck and gently touched his lips but parted ways as he tried to slither his tongue in her mouth. “How about I drink some to get in the mood?” She said, grazing her knee against Calvin’s crotch.

“Fair enough,” he said, handing her the bottle but taking it away after she took the first sip. “A fair trade for what you gave me. Make me happy and you can have the whole bottle,” he said, pulling her towards him and whispering in her ear. “How about you stroke my cock, right here, right now?”

The woman gasped but didn’t push him away. “You’re bold. I can see you’re mad,” she added, gently circling the bruise around Calvin’s eye with her finger, “and I imagine you don’t have any more pride to lose today, am I right?”

Calvin scowled. “Are you going to do it or not? Listen, I can have anyone else-“

Calvin stopped as soon as he realized she unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. “Shh, I don’t want people to notice what we’re doing.” She pulled Calvin’s half-stiff cock out and discreetly stroked it, hiding the act with her body as much as possible. He did nothing but lean his head back and moan as she stroked his cock and kissed his neck.

A few minutes pass and Calvin’s cock still hasn’t fully awoken to life. “I still get the bottle, right?” The woman said.

“Give me a few more minutes… it’s the booze, I swear,” Calvin said. He pushed the woman for another kiss and invaded her mouth with his tongue. She was taken by surprise but accepted the advance after a few seconds, grabbing Calvin’s face with her free hand and giving him a warm french kiss.

“How about you suck me?”

“Not here, darling.”

“Let’s go to the ladies room, then.”

She kept stroking Calvin’s cock but it was still struggling to get a full hard-on. “People are going to find out about us.”

“So what?”

“Hmm,” she pondered for a few seconds, then stowed Calvin’s cock back in his pants. “How about this,” she said, pulling a small transparent bag out of her bra. “I have something else that may help you relax even better than a blow job. Interested?”

Calvin looked at the bag, small and discreet, with a good amount of a white powder. “For sure, yeah. Ladies room, still?”

“I have a better idea. How about the roof?”

“Never been there. Lead the way, then. And how do I call you?”

She grabbed Calvin by the hand and snuck into the employee area, then to a staircase with him. “You can call me… Ava.”

“Ava… I’m Calvin.”

Ava just nodded and kept going up.

As Ava opened the door to the roof, Calvin took a good look at her eyes under the night sky: honey and green. She leaned on a wall and pulled Calvin towards him, grabbed his butt cheeks and gave him another kiss. Calvin put his hand under her skirt and pulled her undies to the side to finger her pussy.

Ava wasn’t moist, but that was okay to Calvin. She let the bag with the powder fall to the ground, wrapped her arms around his body and gave him kisses all over his face and neck.

Calvin’s cock was aching inside his pants. He reached his hand to pull it out but then suddenly he felt a warm, towering presence behind him. Someone wrapped his arm around his neck and pulled him away from Ava.

All happened too fast. Calvin’s eyes were still trying to understand what was happening. All he felt as he lost his breath – and his conscience – was a strong, hairy arm coiling his neck, the other hairy arm immobilizing his limbs by holding them against his chest, and Ava’s hands muffling his voice.

Calvin has been kicking the door and screaming for help for half an hour. No one came. Desperate, he came back to the window to try and see if could budge the iron bars to escape somehow, but that effort was also fruitless.

Calmed down after being unable to exit the room he found himself in, he finally noticed he hasn’t seen his phone yet. After patting his pockets, his phone and wallet weren’t there. These were justifiable, Calvin could’ve put them somewhere and just forgot about them, but he never walked without his Rolex. He searched below the furniture and among the bed clothes, as well as in the only drawer in the nightstand. Nothing, they were gone.

There was no mirror around but Calvin tried to check his body anyway: the bruise in his eye felt much less painful to the touch than he expected. It didn’t even appear to be a little swollen, which was strange for someone who got punched in the eye the night before. Aside from the foreign needle bruise in his forearm, he didn’t notice anything else worthy of note in his body. He felt frail, that’s for sure, but that could be explained by the türkçe bahis hangover too.

And he was hungry. His only option at the moment was the slice of cake lying on a napkin on the nightstand, next to the unlabeled pill. He grabbed the crumbly slice but quickly put it away, afraid it could be perhaps poisoned.

Finally, Calvin heard the sound of a door being closed.

Immediately, he jumped towards the door and started knocking and screaming again. “Help! Let me out! Help!”

The footsteps came closer and walked right past Calvin’s room. From the footsteps Calvin could discern probably one person on the other side, likely carrying some shopping bags. “Please, help! I’m trapped in here!”

The footsteps came back and stopped right on the other side of the door. “Hey,” said the manly voice, in a calm, friendly tone. “so you’re awake! How are you feeling today?”

“Wh-what? Who are you? Let me out!”

“In a second,” said the other voice. “You know the drill, I need you to walk to the wall opposite to the door and knock on it, then I’ll let you out.”

Calvin was speechless for a few seconds. What was he talking about? He thought. Why was he locked up, even? Too many questions. “Why? Can’t you open the door now?”

“Oh, so you don’t remember? Fair enough. Listen, it’s for your safety, Calvin. I’m armed and I don’t want to be pushed to hurt you. Could you please do what I asked?” The voice asked again, calmly.

Again, Calvin was lost for words. That the person knew his name wasn’t that surprising, considering who Calvin was and who he was the child of, but the whole situation he has found himself in was odd. If this was what he feared, a kidnapping,why was that man on the other side so calm, gentle and collected? Why let him out, even? These thoughts made him queasy. “What… what are you going to do with me?”

The other voice laughed loudly. A grave, manly laughter reverberated across the house. “Me? Nothing, but I need to take a look at you and you’re locked in there with no access to the bathroom and barely any food. You need to get you, no?”

Calvin nodded in silence. He tried to ponder his options, but there were none. Not even pulling the drawer to defend himself sounded silly against the gun on the other side.

“So, are you by the wall yet? Rest your back in it, then knock for me to open the door,” the man reiterated.

Helpless, he quietly moved as instructed and gave three knocks on the wall. As promised, the man unlocked the door, slowly opened it and entered the room.For a brief moment Calvin saw the halfway on the other side and considered dashing through the door, toppling the man and running for his freedom, but a few things stood out:

One, he wasn’t carrying a gun. Not visibly. Not a single menacing object, actually.

Second, the man was much bigger than him, about four to six inches taller to Calvin’s 5.75 feet at his current age, eighteen, with well defined muscles in his arms and chiseled collarbones. In all senses, a far cry from his own slim body. There was no way someone like him would be toppled by the likes of Calvin.

Third, Calvin couldn’t see his face. The man was wearing a balaclava to hide his head and neck but he was quite laid back with the rest of his body, wearing an off-white wife-beater delineating his pecs and showing his chest hair, some ragged jeans pants, muddy military boots and a simple black leather cuff bracelet. Some tattoos in his left arm, a few inscriptions wrapping around his forearm, a few angels and demons in his biceps, and a dog or a bear paw tattoo on his right shoulder.

That was sloppy, he could use these details to identify the man, Calvin thought in a split second.

“Good kid, respecting the rules. You’re looking much better today. Do you remember anything? If not, I suppose you have a bunch of questions. Come, let me finally show you the house,” the man said, ushering Calvin to the door, “then we’ll eat something. You haven’t eaten the cake I left for you, I see!”

Calvin’s mind was burning with confusion. Remember what? Who was that man, and why is he acting like they knew each other? The thought of being kidnapped still haunted his mind. Yet, if that was the case, it was the warmest and kindest one he could ever imagine. Too many questions, indeed, and Calvin didn’t know how to start, but he collected himself for a few seconds, took a deep breath and started with a first, broader question, “what’s the meaning of this?”

The man left the room and waited for Calvin on the hallway. “Don’t freak out, but we’re holding you hostage. This house is where you’ll live for a while, and I was tasked to watch over you. Now come, I’ll show you the house. I’ve also bought some food, how about I cook some tapioca crepes for us?”

As Calvin existed, the man pointed to where the bathroom and kitchen were. “That’s where I sleep”, he said, pointing to the other room at the end of the hallway. He showed the living room, with two old and dusty couches and a TV mounted on the wall. güvenilir bahis siteleri “You can call me Bull, by the way,” he said as he walked back to the hallway towards the kitchen. “No, it’s not my real name, if you’re wondering. I’ve heard that from you before.”

Calvin stood in the hallway at a safe-ish distance from Bull. “Before?”

“You were sick for the past few days. Lots of fever, saying a lotta shit too. You woke up a few times and we talked.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Calvin shook his head. “What do you mean by ‘past few days’? If I’m being held hostage, how come I can walk around freely?”

“You can walk freely inside the house.”, Bull corrected, unpacking and hydrating the tapioca flour. “Don’t freak out, I can explain everything. Rules first: you can’t leave, you do what I order you to, and I keep you safe and sound. Sounds good?”

Calvin laughed. “This is too unreal, it’s gotta be a joke.” Then, amid his disbelief, his memories came back to him.

Calvin woke up groggy. His body refused to obey him and move but his pupils weren’t able to resist what little of his willpower remained. He tried to focus his blurry vision. It was dark, but he could discern a seat by its shape in the shade cast by the moonlight. A car seat, actually. Calvin was lying on the back seat of a car, unable to move, though his hands and feet weren’t tied up or restrained in any sense.

There was some sort of hullabaloo outside. He tried to attune his hearing to get rid of the buzzing inside his ear. Some people were in an argument, perhaps right in front of the car.

A woman said something but Calvin couldn’t understand a thing. She had a sweet voice. Sounded familiar.

Another feminine voice emerged, this one crisper. “I don’t want to hear your shit. You’re going with him and that’s final. I’m still not over the chaos you’ve unleashed upon us last time.”

A masculine voice complains. He sounded upset. There was a ruckus, then a thud in the car hood, which made the car squeak and shake. The man grunted.

“You’ll do as Libra says or I’ll break your arm, and then you’ll do as Libra says,” said another masculine voice. His was so deep and menacing that merely hearing it made Calvin shiver.

More ruckus. The man grunted again, said something else, breathed heavily, sighed. Then there was silence.

“Let him go, Klaus, he’s already agreed.”

Then finally Calvin’s body gave up and he fell unconscious again.

Calvin laughed. “This is too unreal, it’s gotta be a joke.” Then, amid his disbelief, his memories came back to him. “Fuck… that can’t be true. It’s too elaborated of a joke. Where are we, anyway?”

Bull stared at Calvin. “As if I would tell you. Far away from your dear home, New York, that’s for sure.”

“What the f- is this because of that dude I punched the other day? Shit, man, that’s too much. Just let me pay you all and let me go.”

“No, kid, it’s not what you’re thinking, you’re not here for such a petty reason, I can tell you that much. It’d be stupid. Besides,” Bull shrugged, “we’re already getting handsomely paid. And YOU were the one being punched,” he added, pointing to Calvin’s sore eye.

“But that shit doesn’t add up,” Calvin said. “There’s no way this a kidnapping, this is a joke. And you held me here for the past week? WHAT THE SHIT IS HAPPENING HERE?”

“Lower your voice, kid,” Bull warned. “You were kept unconscious all the time until you were brought here. Some strong drug shit, hell if I know. Then you fell sick, that’s the whole story,” he explained while he shredded some cheese.

“But why, then? Why am I not blindfolded in some god forsaken basement? Why doesn’t any of this sound even remotely true?”

Bull shrugged. “No idea, it’s up to you to believe in what I’m saying.”


“Oh yeah, why am I making food for us,and you’re standing in front of me contesting the whole story when believe you should’ve been tied to a column at the bottom of an old building and beaten to a pulp? Yeah,” Bull said, straining the water off the flour and heating up a cast iron pan with oil. “Good question. Right, two things: one, our employer asked us to not harm or kill you. That’s why we couldn’t leave you sick and I had to treat you. Two, see that shack over there?” Bull asked, moving to the window and pointing to the place down the hill. “You were there. See? No windows, a shit hole. I had to carry you up here because it was easier to keep an eye on you, treat you. You’d probably get worse if you stayed there, too.”

Calvin leaned on the wall with his mouth agape. Bull reached for a key in his pocket and unlocked a drawer with kitchen utensils – like knives – to grab a spatula, and proceeded, “Besides, I can handle you just fine here. This way I can keep guard on you and we make each other company. How does that sound to you?”

“Make each other company, sigh,” Calvin scoffed. “Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

“Heh. Suit yourself, kid.”

Calvin finally came to the kitchen and sat on a chair. He brought his hands to his head and breathed heavily. “This is to target my dad, I suppose.”

“Who knows,” Bull answered, giggling. The pan sizzled as he poured half the flour and spread it in the pan.

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