Bob strode into the alley feeling a little silly with himself. He had walked halfway down when the smell of rotten fish and chips coming from the bin bags which had been dumped by the chip shop down the road, began to overpower him. The bins in this alley were supposed to be emptied once a week but it looked as if they hadn’t been emptied for a month. They were overflowing and at least a dozen bags had just been dumped at the side.
Wait a minute, what was that hanging out of one of the disgusting black bin bags. No…it couldn’t be.
It was a dead cat. The once beautiful and sleek animal had had its pride torn away from it. It looked as if the cat had been kicked to death because there was huge patches of bruises all along one side and there was congealed blood, stuck into the deceased creature’s black matted fur. The cat’s eyes had nearly decomposed and hundreds of flies covered it gorging themselves on the cat’s flesh.
Bob reeled away from the disgusting ball of fur, nearly tripping over a roof tile that had fallen from above.
It was just then that Bob noticed something move behind the bin. CRASH! The bin launched across the alley hitting the opposite wall. A huge man, who was at least six and a half feet tall and probably weighed twenty stone, jumped out from behind the bin and then smashed Bob’s head against the solid brick wall!
Bob fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. The huge man looked at the fallen body, smiled an evil grin, picked Bob up then carried him to the end of the alley then bundled him into a waiting car which then drove off at speed.
Bob woke up what he guessed must have been 20 minutes later. He was pinned against the right side of a car by the huge man who had attacked him. The car was a long, black BMW with tinted windows and a stench inside that Bob couldn’t quite place. The interior of the car consisted of smooth cream coloured leather and lots of oak paneling. A bit too posh a car to kidnap someone in, Bob thought. Agghh! Bob just realised his head was in huge pain and it felt like his head was splitting in two but he couldn’t remember why.
The huge man then realised Bob was awake and turned to a man in the passengers seat and said, in a very unintelligent sounding grunt, “He’s awake Giovanni.”
The man called Giovanni looked small and skinny with a few grey hairs starting to creep into his heavily gelled black mop of hair. He was wearing a suit and when he spoke there was an obviously foreign twang in his accent.
“So we meet again my good friend,” he said in a cold cruel snarl, “why did you do what you did last time we met? I did not appreciate it.”
All Bob would do was sit there trembling in fear while having his arms squeezed behind his back by the huge man who would probably break them even he tried to move.
Bob finally managed to stammer out his words, “I d-don’t know what your t-talking about.”
“You do so, you idiot. But lucky for you I can’t be bothered arguing right now so we will have to wait until we reach our destination,” replied Goivanni. Bob suddenly felt his head shudder with a renewed surge of pain. It felt as if someone was hammering a gong inside his head and he was still sure his head would split in two soon.
Bob tried to rack his brain and think at what he was supposed to have done, but, Bob couldn’t remember anything apart from having his head banged against a wall.
Bob stared out of the window in disbelief, he had lost his memory and he couldn’t remember a thing.
Bob then realised how fast they were traveling. They were going at about fifty miles per hour through the city centre. Bob was surprised how empty the streets were for this time in the evening. He then noticed a traffic light changing to red up ahead. Surely they would have to slow down now. But no. the driver went straight on.
SMASH! A car had crashed into the left side of the BMW. That side of the car had a huge dent in it and both airbags in the front had inflated, pinning both the driver both the driver and Giovanni to their seats. It also looked as if the big man had broken a leg from the impact because he was clutching one in agony.
Bob, seizing his chance threw open his door, then sprinted away from the car and into the pouring rain, not stopping for at least ten minutes when he finally gave up running.
Bob sat on the kerb shaking. He examined the bruises on his arms and legs he had gained in the car crash. They were the colour of the stormy sky above him which was currently making him wetter than a fish. He reached to his head and felt blood still trickling from the cut on his head. Bob was a mess. He had no idea where he was, he was drenched and could hardly walk from exhaustion. He started to cry and began to ask himself why those men had kidnapped him. Had he really done wrong and if he had what had he done. He looked about himself for a landmark he recognised and couldn’t find anything. He tried to remember anything about himself, even what he had done before he hit his head but nothing came to him.
How was he supposed to get home if he couldn’t remember where home was? Would he ever get his memory back…?
Somehow he doubted it.
