Casey Butler's Lost Opportunity http://literfull12.deviantart.com/art/Casey-Butler-s-Lost-Opportunity-423108884 This was supposed to Casey Butler's time to shine. Her moment in the spotlight. Her shot at making a name for herself, and it's been ripped away. Casey is a mixed martial artist. And a damn good one. A star quickly on the rise, who's shot at being a somebody is slowly slipping away from her. For two days, she's been held captive in her own apartment. Two days, she's been bound and gagged, and practically helpless. Her wrists and arms and legs have been zip-tied to the armrests of a wooden chair. Excessively, so. The ties hugged her blue rugged jeans, and the bare skin of her arms. Should've worn long sleeves, instead of the white dragon print vest top she has on, she tells her self. She's been positioned away from her front door, so no one can peer in and see her. She'd scream for help, but a blue rag has been stuffed in her mouth, and ten layers of tape have been wound around her mouth, going over her blonde shag cut hair, and keeping the rag in place. She wonders how she got in this mess, but she knows exactly how. Casey was what some would call a perpetual loner. Twenty-four years old, and tough as Hell. Her lean body, gave her a staggering amount of self-confidence. She'd go it her own way, and there was rarely anything that could stop her. On top of her white vest top, and rugged jeans she wore the night this started, and her shag cut hair, Casey wore a black leather jacket, black hiking boots, and a silver studded belt around her waist. She felt like a bit of a punk, so she dressed like a bit of a punk. "So, tell me, honestly, how many people in this room could you kick the crap out of?" The cute girl, with the blue pixie cut hair asked Casey. She'd been chatting Casey up for the better part of the night, at the bar. She had an Australian accent, and Casey loved it. Said her name was Eva. To Casey, gender didn't matter. To her, an attractive person was an attractive person. Eva had olive toned skin, as opposed to Casey's pale skin, and wore a white blouse, and black dress pants. Eva wore chili colored lipstick, and Casey wore a burnt colored one. "Pretty much, everyone," Casey boasted. She doesn't do that often, but for some reason, for tonight, she's inclined to, for Eva. She wasn't sure if it was the three beers, or the air in the room, but Casey felt the need to act out of character. "Wow," she exclaimed, placing her hand over Casey's. "Sounds like you're pretty confident. What about me?" "What about you?" Casey asked. "Do you think you could take me?" And then Casey's heart was beating out of her chest. Eva leaned in, pushing her hair back, and whispered something into her ear. "My place or yours?" she said. "My place. Definitely my place," Casey muttered. This was Casey's big mistake. It wasn't until they had made it to Casey's apartment, that Casey realized something was wrong. And she could tell it wasn't from the beer. It was something else. Her vision darkened slightly, and her legs felt weak. As she fumbled for the keys to her apartment, Casey wondered if she was sick. "Just give me a second," Casey said, short of breath. "Might be a little excited." "Take your time," Eva insisted. "No rush, really." As Casey, forced her door open, she stumbled and fell, landing right side hitting the wood floor of her apartment. "I'm okay," she assured herself, and Eva. "I'm just fine, I need to just sit. Just for a minute." Casey tried to force herself up, but found that just led to her hitting the floor again. Until a realization set in. "I've been drugged," Casey muttered, as a bit of drool dripped from the side of her mouth. Her body had started going numb. "Yes. Yes you have," Eva said standing over her. "Don't worry. It will only last the night. I'll have you properly situated by then." "Spike my drinks?" Casey questioned her. "Yep." "Why?" "Because, some people with very deep pockets would like to not see you win that fight that's in, what? Two days? They'd rather see you not fight at all," Eva informed her. "So I die, is that it?" Casey inquired. She felt sick, and weak, and numb, and tired. She could only force herself to stay awake for so long. "Relax," Eva said calmly, bending down to Casey. Stroking her hair. "They don't want you dead. Just out of the way. Meaning me and you are going to spend sometime together." And like that, Casey blacked out. Whatever fight she had left had gone, giving way to the chemical induced slumber that awaited her. "Wha's goin' on?" Casey muttered. The night wasn't kind to her, and the morning post-drugging wasn't either. Her head was throbbing, and her body felt stiff. The Sun poured in through a window, and stung her eyes. She'd chalk last night up to a bad dream, if she wasn't aware of her current predicament. Her hands and feet have been bound been with clothes line. Her jacket, boots, and socks are gone. At least she's still dressed. She's still wearing her white vest top with the Dragon print, and her rugged jeans. Recognizing the look and feel of the sheets she's laying on, and the room she was in, she realizes Eva must've carried her to her bed. At least there's that, she told herself. A kidnapper who cares. Hilarious. The only thing she could be grateful for, was the fact she hadn't been gagged. Small miracles. "Hello?" Casey shouted. "Is my hot, but probably insane kidnapper here? Would really appreciate some face time." Her voice boomed through her bedroom. Probably nothing but a dull echo to the rest of the apartment. She bought the place for the thickness of the walls and doors. No one would be able to hear her workout, kicking and punching bags and pads, and blasting music, and now no one would be able to hear her scream for help. Then, the thick white wooden door, opened, just a crack. A big enough crack for a patch of blue hair, olive skin, and a set of brown eyes peeked through the door. Eva. "About time you woke up," Eva said. She's still wearing the same clothes from last night. The white blouse, and black dress pants. "Don't worry, I took the couch. Didn't think you'd mind." "Make yourself at home," Casey joked. "And if you could: Untie me so I can go to town on that smug face of yours." "Cute," she remarked. "But we both know what clothes line won't hold you. Not for very long, at least, now that you're not loopy from the drugs." Casey knew she was writing. The knots had already started to come loose, and in a few minutes she'd be free. "Well most girls appreciate being asked before their date ties them up," Casey taunted her. "And these knots suck." "They were meant to hold an inebriated woman, not a pissed off, sober, punk fighter, with a penchant for breaking faces," Eva stated, running her left hand through her blue hair. "But don't worry, now that you're up, I'll make sure you are nice and snug for the next few days." "Like Hell you will," Casey shouted, her hands slipping through her bindings. Ready to fight, she's about to lunge at Eva, until she freezes. During the half second Casey used to free herself, Eva produced a handgun. "Like Hell I will, indeed," she chided. Reaching into her pocket, she produced a set of short chained handcuffs. "After you untie your feet, you'll throw this little number on." She tossed the cuffs over to Casey, and they bounced slightly on her bed. "Don't try anything," Eva cautioned. "I'm the bitch with the gun, and I'm not afraid to but a round in your knee. Then you've got no shot at a career after this. No more fighting, just normalcy, if you can retain enough of your composure after getting shot, for that." Casey couldn't be sure if she was serious. This wasn't the cute Australian girl she flirted with the night before. This was a very dangerous woman. Casey, begrudgingly, complied, undoing the clothes line around her feet. She then took one of the cuffs, and placed it around her wrist, locking it into place. "Ah, ah, behind the back, missy," Eva warned her, twisting her gun. Casey, of course, listened to the possibly unhinged woman with a gun. Locking her hands behind her back was not ideal, but she really didn't want to get shot. "Good, now come along, I made eggs, and I'm sure your hungry. Probably thirsty as well," Eva said. "So glad," Casey muttered. The food was disgusting. Probably the worst eggs Casey has had the pleasure of ingesting. If the drugs didn't make her feel sick, the eggs are most certainly doing that. The glass of water before her, on her rectangular, brown kitchen table, is only half finished. "I don't cook very often," Eva informed her. "I'm a takeout kind of girl." "I noticed," Casey said, her stomach churning. "Now I have some bad news," Eva said with almost a heartbroken look on her face. "I won't be spending as much time with you as I like. I know, I know. It's a shame. I'll have to go in the next few hours. I figure though, you spending the next day or so trussed won't hurt you. Better than me hovering over you, yeah?" "You could let me go," Casey begged. "You could let me go right now. Not a thing will get back to you. I won't even mention you're name. You can let me go." "Do you really think I gave you my real name? That it's Eva?" Eva said. Casey figured as much, but it's nice to hear it. What kidnapper would give their captive their real name, and expected the captive to survive? "Now, enough girl talk," Eva said, pushing away from the table. "Let's get you nice and comfortable." Her wrists were zip tied to the arms of the chair. Her forearms and biceps are also. Eva finishes cinching her feet, and legs to the bottoms of the chair, and Casey is holding back the urge to cry. "Eva, you don't know what this will do to me," Casey pleaded. "Set your career back a bit, I imagine," Eva said. "Trust me, the people who paid me to do this, have weak stomachs. This could've been worse. It could've been messy. Now, open up." Eva raised up a balled up, blue rag. "You're not putting that in my mouth," Casey voiced her discontent. "Casey, I've already got you tied up," Eva reminded her. "All because I waved around a gun that wasn't even loaded." "Are you fu---mmmph!" Casey's curses were cut short by Eva jamming the cloth into her mouth. Before she could spit it out, Eva took a strip from a roll of duct tape, and placed it over her mouth. And for added measure tore loose another strand, and placed it over the lower part of her mouth. "Fmmph ymm," Casey muttered through the tape. "Not done, darling," Eva said. Pulling free more tape, she placed it over Casey's gagged mouth, and began wrapping around her head. She didn't care about getting it in her hair. By the time she was done, Casey could barely make a sound. "mmmmm," Casey moaned behind her gag. "Now I'll have to heading out now, got a flight to catch," Eva informed her. "Feel free to struggle all you like. I intend to call the cops and inform them about your predicament, a good day after your scheduled fight. My employers have ensured me that they've greased enough palms so that you'll never get a rematch scheduled. That your opponent will win by default. But, before I go.." Eva leaned in, and placed her right hand behind Casey's head, and pushed her lips against Casey's gagged mouth. Casey tried to break away, but with being tied up and all, there wasn't much she could except roar behind her gag. "The fun we could've had Casey. Just imagine it," Eva said, walking out the front door. She struggled for hours. She bucked and writhed against the her restraints. She screamed into her gag, hoping something would happen. That someone would hear her. Casey couldn't tip the chair over. She knew how sturdy it was, and didn't want to risk knocking herself out. And she couldn't get free. She tried. Tried her damndest. But in the end, nothing gave. There was no slack, and the zip-ties just ended up cutting into her skin. The police showed up eventually. Cut her loose, took her statement, sent her to the hospital. But nothing was done about her fight. Like Eva said, she'd been declared the loser by default. No consideration for her unforeseen circumstances. Casey lost, without getting a shot.