stomachache's blog

(This is a sequel to Break-In, where Jonas got brutally gutpunched by a large, unknown person. This story contains kidnapping, lite romance, lite vomiting, and mention of stabbing and organs. It's mostly set-up for a future installment.)

Jonas sat up to drink his smoothie, wincing. It was a week since he was discharged from the hospital, but he still couldn't have any solid foods until his various organs had time to heal from the beating they took. The police didn't have any information about the person that broke in, and there were no prints or hair left behind in the apartment. Still, he elected to stay at Hector's place for a while, to no objection.

Hector let himself in. "It's me." Jonas knew to expect him, but he was grateful for the announcement nonetheless, especially after the circumstances of his surprise beating. He went to the bedroom with a grocery bag full of non-descript necessities and set it on the floor.

"They still haven't found anything?"

"Nah." Jonas rubbed his stomach, as if the mere mention was enough to tug on his insides. "I think whoever it was just wanted to beat the shit out of somebody. They picked me."

"If they come here, I'll fucking kill them."

Jonas looked up at him. He couldn't tell whether his zealousness came from being his friend, or from feeling the same way he did about him. Either way, he shot up to hug him, ignoring the pain in his belly wanting to keep him horizontal. Hector returned the hug, and they sat in silence for a good minute before both sitting down on the bed. The rest of the day was spent playing a medley of video games before they eventually settled in for bed.

In the middle of the night, Hector got up to use the bathroom, and took the opportunity to fill his water bottle. He was in his underwear, so he put on some jeans before heading to the kitchen, right next to the living room and front door. As he did, his phone vibrated and he got a text from a hidden number.

"If you don't want me to spill his guts, come outside and get in the car, now."

His stomach sank, then rose back up with anger. It was unlikely that this was anyone but the one who beat Jonas to the point of vomiting blood. He vowed to kill whoever it was, and even though he was afraid, he intended to make good on that promise. He grabbed the biggest, sharpest kitchen knife he had and went outside, the cold air kissing his chest.

The parking lot was empty, save for a black SUV whose windows refused to allow the street light in. Hector didn't need to see inside to know it was his destination. He didn't know who it was or how many people were in there, so he approached slowly, circling the car as he got closer. He felt a large hand grab his arms from behind and wrestle the knife from him, holding him in one place. They brandished the knife towards his belly button, almost poking him with the business end.

Hector swallowed heavily. Whoever it was had to be strong and large, just like Jonas described, but they weren't in the car, so they had to be answering to someone else. They straddled the knife across the surface of his bare belly, flirting with the prospect of plunging it into him, spilling his warm guts all over the cold asphalt. He suddenly became distinctly aware of the situation he was in, how easily he could die. The passenger side of the car door opened, and another clad figure stepped out, walking towards them both.

"You'll get your chance." The voice was modulated, but the accent sounded usual, Midwestern. "Some of the best things in the world are things that come after a long time of waiting."

The figure behind Hector shook their arm, barely poking his belly a few times, before dropping the knife on the ground and proceeding to the modulated figure. Hector faced them.

"Are you the one wh-"

He was answered with a deep punch in his stomach organ, causing his cheeks to puff out before blowing spit all over the figure's covered face. Their fist wasn't particularly big, but it seemed to hit just the right, or wrong, spot. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out and they pulled out their fist. The one holding him tossed him limp into the backseat before they both re-entered the car and drove off.

Jonas woke up stretching, winced, then checked his phone. He knew Hector had work at some point, and to his shame he didn't know exactly what days. He read a text and his stomach hurt even more.

"You know who I am, and so, you know where he is. Don't wait for him."

He shot up out of bed in his underwear and stumbled to the bathroom, emptying his stomach into the toilet, going from mostly water to dry-heaving, tears welling in his eyes. Even through the despair, in the back of his mind, he knew he wasn't dead, because otherwise whoever it was wouldn't have gone through the trouble to kidnap him. He survived, but he didn't know what plans they had for Hector.