Meet William: Week Four

It’s week four of the LHNB thread hop, and this week it’s all about time-machines: where would your characters go, and who would they see if they could. Hmmmm, I think I know the answer to this one. Note: poor William's still tied to the bed.

********

Jack: Right, Will, [knocks on the bedroom door again] in between getting the kids off to school, I had time to build a time machine.

Will: Really?

Jack: [Chuckles] Nah, just kidding. But as the author, I can whisk you off to any period in time you want to be, or if there’s someone you’d like to meet. So, what’s your pleasure, Will?

Will: [Stays quiet]

Jack: Oh... sorry. [winces] Stupid question; anything other than that time, okay?

Will: [sighs uneasily] Okay, I’d like to go back to my run a few days ago.

Jack: I can understand that; you like your freedom. And old grumbas in there doesn’t give you much privacy, does he?

Will: Grumbas?

Jack: Cross between grump and a bast—

Kidnapper: Do you want me to gag you as well, Jack?

Jack: Humph. No. Oh, [waves] hi there.

Kidnapper: Bye there.

Jack. Smartass. Will, your run? You’d like to go back to the forest?

Will: Hell yes, please.

Jack: Okay. Let’s see what we can do.... [scribbles with pen] Hah. Here we are. You’re on your morning run. See? [looks at Will still standing there with a blindfold on next to her in the forest] oh, you can’t see. Sorry. Let me take that off for you. There we go.

Will: You could have given me some clothes too, y’know.

Jack: Yeah, well. [Says very quickly] Oh look, here’s the point in history you wanted:

*******

Extract:

A few hours into Will’s run, the halfway point came up close to lunch, and Will let himself rest against a huge stone as he took another sip of water. Off to the left, the old, disused mill with its rustic wheel had been given an island all to itself, or at least a decent river that ran almost like a moat around it. A small waterfall nudged at the millwheel, trying to give it some life, but the wheel only whimpered a protest that barely carried on the breeze. Air and water would only move it so far before the wheel gave up, creaking back into its slow drowning. Will and the mill had stared at each other a few times over the years, sometimes leaving Will with a slight chill, that feeling of not being as far away from life as he’d like. The blackness of the windows glistened like a widow refusing to let her grief fall, mouth quivering against the loss of life, of love, of history. He’d hated this place as a kid, and now it just reflected how tired he felt. Like the millwheel, life seemed to want to push him around despite his will to just fade into the background.

Flicking the lid back on his water bottle and then clipping it to his jogging bottoms, Will pushed away from the stone, then from the mill. A few blackbirds flew from the trees, crying disgust at his interruption, and Will nodded an apology. “Sorry, lads. Your turf, right? Not mine so—humph.”

Will hit the forest floor, tasting nothing but dirt and grunting away the leaves from his face. A curved root jutted from the ground, and it sat there grinning a little too proudly with Will’s running shoe jammed there in its mouth. Will sat up and grabbed at his shoe. Wincing at the ache in his ankle, he rubbed at his foot first, not liking how the deep throb called cut to his running day. “Just like you to fall and have no one around to fall for, Will,” he mumbled. Managing to wiggle his running shoe back on, Will sighed and pushed up off the forest floor.

Barely even managing to straighten to his feet, Will grunted as an arm slipped around his waist, forcing him to hit the floor again, this time his shoulder and hip taking the brunt of the ground as he landed on his side. Legs came around his, holding him still, just as arms crushed a bear hug around his ribcage. Will cried out, and a crunch of twig was heard above his head just before a blindfold was roughly pulled into place, turning Will’s world black. The man crushing his ribs, he came with a friend, and one who was content enough to kick at Will’s shoulder and force him face-first into the roughage. Will’s arms were wrestled behind his back, tied, then as dirt-filled fingers dug into the side of his mouth, Wills lips and jaw were forced open and a gag pinched into the corners of his mouth. Will grunted, and a hard breath roughed his ear as something sharp, cool, and very dangerous pressed against his cheek.

“Keep real still, beauty, and real quiet.” The knife twisted slightly, now scratching a path down Will’s jaw, to trace the curve of his throat. “Or struggle,” whispered a voice. “But I guarantee you won’t like me by morning if you do.”

Will stilled, his hard breathing the only stress-release point he allowed himself.

“Oh, I like you like that.”

********
Kidnapper: Hey. [stops Will from running blindly over to help his past self] No you don’t, pup.

Will: [struggles] Who the hell invited you along?

Kidnapper: Life’s not all about you, Will. Oh [grabs Will by the back of the hair] eyes forward, no peeking.

Jack: [to Kidnapper but covering eyes with her hand] So where would you like to go, then?

Kidnapper: Well, I did miss an episode of Top Gear a few days back.

Will: What? Bloody Top Gear? Just friggin great. [To Jack] I get out of this, we’re having a serious talk, Jack.

Jack: What [gives innocent face] -- you don’t like Top Gear?

Will: Jack.

Jack: Sorry, I know this is hard. [Winks] But who said you're getting out of this?

*********

Kind of leaves in you a strange place with these, lol. I don't like looking my main leads in the eye.

Anyway *chuckles* there are other fine stories in the making on the Goodreads M/M Group. Next week's topic will be [runs off to Absolute Write to find out] Ah, yep: "If someone wanted to meet your MC, where would be their best chance of running into them?" Hmmm that'll be interstin'. But we're getting close now to having these free stories available on Goodreads. I'm looking forward to seeing the cover reveal.

Picture "Fashion Shot Of A Young Man" courtesy of: Photostock:FreeDigitalPhotos.Net