Chapter Text
Dustin wakes up sprawled over his room’s floor. His legs are at an uneven angle and his arms laid above his head. Dustin’s already confused as he slowly opens his eyes, the light inside the room making it burn and causing him to squint.
Dustin’s vision is blurry but he makes out a wall in front of him. The first thing Dustin notices is his nose is runny, extremely runny and his eyes are watery like he had just been crying. This throat feels dry so he tries to clear it but it only came out as a wet cough. Mucus filing in his throat.
Dustin curls his right hand into a fist and places it against the floor to raise himself up off the cold floor beneath him. Dustin lifts his body up, almost in a plank position as he turns onto his stomach, groaning softly. He’s breathing heavily and he doesn’t know why because he hadn’t even moved much.
Dustin lifts himself onto his knees next, until he’s in a kneeling position, staring at everything around him. Dustin paused looking straight ahead. He felt a feeling of nausea wash over him. Dustin looked around the room vividly. To his left, a drawer with a walkie talkie and trophies on it. At the bottom of it, there were a lot of toys. Dustin tilted his head and squinted his eyes in confusion. “Mom?” He called loudly, but not loud enough. He felt sluggish.
Dustin’s head moved on autopilot to his right, seeing a bed beside him, a comforter set on it filled with a superman blanket. Something Dustin would never get and that’s when he realized it wasn’t his room. The nausea overflowed him again and he stared back towards the door in front of him dizzily. “Steve!” Dustin yelled, almost choking from his voice.
No one replied and Dustin felt his eyes prickling back up with tears and he didn’t rub this away. He felt his face getting red as his nose continued to drop snot. What the hell was going on?
Dustin finally lifted himself up, his back connecting with a wall as he stood dumbfounded around him. He stared at the door for a while, deciding to make a move towards it. He crawled until he reached the door, hands scrabbling at the doorknob, turning it impatiently. Nonetheless, the door still didn’t budge and Dustin grew restless. Why was he so tired?
Dustin gave up and moved backwards, pressing onto the wall again. His eyes formed dots and he so happened to stare at the ceiling above him. Dustin paled and his eyes widened. There was something there, an object. It was flashing red, alerting Dustin of his presence. It was only a matter of time before Dustin realized it was a camera, his face morphing into an unreadable expression. Almost mortified.
The realization slowly dawned on Dustin. The room. No one answered when he called, the camera facing him. He was taken, kidnapped, and missing.
No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening right now. Not now. Not to him. Why him? Why did it always have to be him ?
Dustin brought his knees up to his chest, crying softly. Real tears flowing down his cheeks now. After a couple of minutes, another realization dawned on Dustin. The walkie talkie.
Dustin snapped his head up that was tear stained and reached for the walkie on the dresser, snatching it, and turning the walkie on pressing
the button to talk. His mouth watered as he spoke in a desperate plea. “Hello. Hello?”
Silence.
Static.
More Silence.
A voice.
“I know you’re probably confused and really scared right now,” All the air left Dustin’s lung and he felt like he was going to pass out. He gripped the walkie-talkie tighter and he glared up to the camera watching him, shuddering. Whoever was talking to him was the one keeping him here, watching him like a fucking creep. Dustin felt sick and he gagged.
“Who are you!” Dustin screamed towards the camera, angry tears falling as his face turned a deep shade of red. The walkie-talkie spoke again.
“I need you to bear with me.” The voice said and Dustin looked offended at that. He threw the walkie-talkie away from him and screamed in frustration. Hands flying up to his head. He just wanted to go home, he doesn’t even know how he got here. His head was pounding and his body felt stiff. His next instinct was to search the drawers and he removed them widely, not caring if some hit him on the way out. He had to get out of here.
“There’s nothing in there, Henderson.” Dustin stopped, his body slumping as he let out a helpless sob. His face was a mess. How the hell did they know Dustin’s name? How did they know Dustin but not the other way around. Where was he?
From all Dustin’s crying he developed hiccups, and it hurt. He wanted nothing more but to leave but the room had no windows, only a door Dustin assumed was the exit. It had to be.
“Please just- just let me go. I won’t tell, I swear. I haven’t even seen your face.” Dustin’s voice echoed in between sobs, he waited to hear the voice on the walkie-talkie again.
“I’m sorry.” Was all the voice said as the channel clicked off and Dustin scrambled towards the walkie-talkie picking it up in one swift motion. “Wait-no no. Please! Please, I…” Dustin’s sentence never finished because he couldn’t stop crying and eventually..Dustin started to realize he wasn’t leaving and he climbed on the bed sadly, falling into a helpless slumber as he threw the blanket over himself.