Dialogue with Them

Captured

His gaze fixed on me, I found myself momentarily lost, suddenly snapping back to reality.

I leapt up as if propelled, not hesitating for a moment as I dashed to the restaurant's entrance. I must have baffled all the unsuspecting spectators once again, the stares at my back sharp as thorns aiming for my heart. I'll admit I was frightened, my face etched with terror like a victim chased by a monster, a scream nearly escaping but stifled in my throat, unable to make a sound.

I dared not look back to confirm if Frederick was following, his wolf-like green eyes fixed on the sight of my hasty retreat.

Uncertain whether this panic-driven impulse was right, I was sure I couldn't stay in the restaurant any longer. Not until I had calmed down could I face any of them, especially that damned Frederick.

Uncertain whether this panic-driven impulse was right, I was sure I couldn't stay in the restaurant any longer. Not until I had calmed down could I face any of them, especially that damned Frederick.

Anyone standing by a window upstairs would have seen a frantic woman, her raincoat flapping over her shoulders, clutching her bag as she screamed and dashed into the curtain of rain.

Climbing into the Ford, I shut the door, my fingers, soaked from the rain, appeared almost translucent and pallid. The car keys trembled in my grip, taking several attempts before finally igniting the engine.

Every muscle in my body was trembling.

I turned on the windshield wipers, shifted gears, feeling as though the car, now starting, was about to overturn. Rain splashed onto my face from the half-open window, the damp, icy sensation momentarily restoring my sanity.

What foolishness have I committed? Clutching the steering wheel tightly, despite him having done nothing, yet here I am, trembling all over, as if by instinct, like a predator's innate suppression over its prey.

I remained in a state of profound bewilderment.

I hardly knew what I was doing, fleeing in full public view, tumbling and scrambling, like a madwoman scared into the rain by my own chaotic thoughts.

It was utterly embarrassing. I couldn't help but sigh in frustration, lamenting that I've lived twice over yet lacked any composure. I should be calm and gentle in demeanor, possessing the courage not to be frightened by anything, to make my years lived worthwhile.

Shivering from the cold, I reluctantly closed the car window. My gaze swept over the rearview mirror, and through the water-streaked glass, an umbrella emerged. I stared blankly at the two figures standing under it: Frederick and William.

The glass clearly mirrored their robust physiques, the expressionless faces of the two men almost identical, making me wonder how many years they had spent together to develop such similar gestures and expressions.

They stood in the rain, silent as two stiff slabs of stone.

I longed to press the accelerator, imagining myself speeding away from the school, driving recklessly on the highway to escape this place entirely.

Of course, that was just a fantasy. My body had already stiffened, and I could barely hold onto the steering wheel.

When my gaze shifted from the rearview mirror, I saw Robert standing in front of my windshield wipers, blocking the path of my car with a captivating stance.

With his hands clasped behind his back, his casual blazer soaked in the rain, the gold of his eyes centered with deep brown.

Could I run him over?

This was the clearest thought in my mind at that moment, and then I heard Frederick's splendid voice glide through my eardrums.

"Robert will flip your car over if you try to hit him," he said.

How odd, why would he say that? Was my intention that obvious from my expression?

Then came William's voice, tinged with amusement, "Frederick, she's the one, isn't she?"

What did he mean by "the one"? What was he referring to?

My car hadn't stalled, but I certainly had. Can't they finish what they're saying? Either explain in detail or let me go.

I buried my head in the steering wheel, the sound of rain hitting the ground in my ears, the distant forest enveloping Intley and the ceaselessly flowing river. In a subdued voice, I asked, "May I go now?"

It was an astonishing experience, watching my car door effortlessly opened by Frederick's long, strong hands. I was quite certain I heard the piteous wail of the door lock being forcefully torn open. My poor car. If I tell Jason about the broken door, would he help me fix it?

As I pondered this, I found myself being effortlessly lifted out of the car by Frederick, his strong hand around my neck feeling like a firm pair of tweezers, making the whole ordeal seem all too easy.

The rain pelting my face made my cold-sensitive body shiver, but the way Frederick looked at me sent an even deeper chill through me.

He clearly harbored no fondness for me, that much was evident. But why detain me if he disliked me so? Why not just let me go?

I heard Frederick's unmistakable laughter; he was laughing, and I didn't dare to look up at him.

William and Robert stood in the rain, watching us. The sight of their Frederick holding me as if I were a mere chick was surely a rare spectacle. I heard William's teasing voice, elongating his words with the same flourish found in the elaborate script of English calligraphy.

"Frederick, people will start noticing us, they're about to look this way."

'They' referred to my classmates, who lacked any semblance of sympathy.

"This is fascinating, I've never encountered anything like this," Frederick muttered expressionlessly, then tossed me into the back seat of the Panamera.

I could envision the grim future of kidnappers making no attempts to conceal their actions, and the hostages facing their dismal fate.

The back seat was upholstered in expensive dark leather. As soon as I got in, I shrank to the corner, wishing I could press my face against the window glass. Despite this, I couldn't help but think the car was really nice, incredibly comfortable to sit in. Without a few hundred thousand dollars in hand, one couldn't afford such a car. It was likely this would be my only chance in life to ride in such a luxury vehicle.

"This is one of my favorite cars; I bought it as soon as it was unveiled," Frederick, seated in the front, said without turning around, speaking to me quite naturally.

Could it be... does he have the ability to read minds? I looked at him in shock.

"It's telepathy. You'll understand everything once we arrive," he explained, still not looking back at me.

Unable to control my racing thoughts, I was lost in a whirlwind of speculation.

Frederick, seemingly able to hear, remarked, "It's so noisy."

I was startled. I tried to empty my mind, which, as you know, is quite challenging.

Especially when you're in a state of panic, I found it impossible to lock away my thoughts and render myself a complete blank slate. My thoughts ran rampant as usual;

I've always been someone who habitually daydreams, with a frighteningly vivid imagination.

Being often alone, I've grown accustomed to being in a state of constant internal activity, no matter the time or place.

At least for now, I couldn't suppress the tumultuous activity of my mind.

I continued to press against the window, watching as the heavy rain turned into a misty drizzle, a vast expanse of gray obscuring the road ahead. They drove fast, too fast for such weather. Shouldn't ordinary people be cautious driving in these conditions? Didn't they realize how dangerous it was?