Imprisoned

At the normal time that John would be coming into work, there was an obvious empty spot where his blue Chevy would normally be parked.

As the sun slowly climbed up into the pale blue sky, it was becoming more and more obvious that he was not coming in.

"Call him again." Dan Bradford, Chief of Police, for the greater LA county mumbled.

"He could just be oversleeping or maybe stuck in traffic." One of the deputies responded off-handedly.

Dan slammed the daily reports onto the desk and shot a fierce look at the deputy.

"Call him again! John never does a no-show no-call stunt. If he doesn't show up for work and he doesn't call, he's probably in some kind of trouble."

Blake and Luis hovered in the corner eavesdropping in on the conversations between the Chief of Police and one of his deputies with growing concern. The Chief did not have a clue how scary things were and how big a trouble John could be in.

"He's not answering, Chief."

Dan sighed.

"Where's George?"

"He's on another assignment, Sir."

"Call George and tell him I want him back pronto. Adam is in the hospital so John's been running around without a partner for over 24 hours. Tell George I want him to find John ASAP."

"Yes sir."

Blake prodded Luis.

"I'm going to go check and see if Jasmine made it home. You stay here and see if George has been able to locate John. I'll be back as soon as possible."

Luis nodded.

Blake shot up through the ceiling and flew back towards Jasmine's apartment. He had been there only last week to pick her up for a gig but he still remembered where it was.

Blake found her door and slipped through.

His eyes took in the polished floor and squares of dust patterns in various areas throughout the living room. There were stains delineating where expanses of walls used to end and furniture began.

Now there was nothing but an empty room.

He drifted down the hallway towards the two bedrooms behind the living room.

The bedrooms were empty catacombs waiting to be filled with another tenant's personal effects.

It was the same with the kitchen area. There was not even a scrap of trash left behind. It was as if Jasmine Love aka Jazzie Hunter had never existed in this time and space.

There was no reason to remain in this place. She was not here and neither was her stuff.

Blake flew back to the police station with a terrible feeling in his guts. Something bad had happened to Jazzie and that cop.

"Any news?" He asked once he met up with Luis again at the police station.

Luis shook his head.

"What about you?"

"She's gone. All her stuff is gone from her apartment too."

"You think maybe she's the one who killed the guys and now she's taken off?"

Blake gave Luis a dry look. Was he daft? She had no motive for killing any of them, not to mention the fact that Blake was the one who had taken out the three men who had gone after her.

"No."

"What do we do now?"

"Let's go back up the mountain and see if we can find his car somewhere along the road. We're the only ones who knew he and Jasmine went to La Hacienda Mountain Range."

☯︎☯︎☯︎

A shaft of sunlight hit Jasmine's eyes, waking her up from a dreamless sleep.

For a moment, she could not remember where she was or even what day it was.

She knew she needed to contact Randy to find out the status of the songs she had just submitted to the publisher.

More importantly, this was the weekend that the band was supposed to be flying to north to do a charity concert. The pay was negligible but it was for a good cause.

The band!

It was then that everything flooded back to her in a monstrous wave of recollection.

Blake was dead. Ray was dead. Terry was dead.

Adam was possessed by demons, and both she and John Greer had been attacked by thugs.

Lord, she had to find John!

Jasmine struggled into a sitting position and found her limbs weak as green bamboo shoots. On her body was a bouncy fluffy nightgown of a white cotton material that was a gift from her deceased mother.

Jasmine never wore it because it reminded her of the nightgown that the little girl in Peter Pan wore. So how in the world did she have the horrid thing on?

She clambered off the bed and searched around the nightstand and the dresser for her phone but it was nowhere to be found. Something was very odd about this room but she could not put her finger on what it was.

Suddenly, the shaft of morning sunlight shining through the window hitting the floor filled her with a sense of dread. Her window wasn't supposed to face east.

It was a south-facing window.

She made her way to the window and felt terror rising up into her throat. She clutched the front of her nightgown and looked out at a grid-work of iron bars across the opening of what should have been open space!

Jasmine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them again. The view did not change.

She was on an upper story floor of some larger structure looking out onto pure blue sky atop a hill of some type. The golden valley spread out below her in a grid-work of skinny streets and tiny monopoly-sized houses.

This could not be happening. Maybe she was still dreaming. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. There was no change in scenery outside beyond the iron bars.

It was at this point that Jasmine gave in to panic.

She began screaming at the top of her lungs for help as she gripped the cold iron bars with both hands, trying with all her strength to shake them loose from their cemented foundation.

The bars did not budge.

It refused to even vibrate even though she began pounding them with the flat of her palms.

After yelling and screaming for a few minutes, she realized she was utterly alone save for a pair of doves that had been startled into flight at the instant of her yelling for help.

As Jasmine began to grasp the reality of her situation, she sank to the floor, holding her head in both hands and shutting her eyes tight against the tears that threaten to spring forth.

Oh God! This could not be happening. There had to be a rational explanation for this.

But deep down in Jasmine's heart, she knew that too many things happening lately did not have a logical explanation. This was just another in a series of strange occurrences set in motion by some powerful demonic force.

Oh Lord, she was fucking scared!

She was going to be the next one dead. Something horrible was going to happen to her. She could feel it in her bones.

Suddenly, Jasmine was gripped with sudden anger.

Fuck them!

She was not going to let whoever did this to her kill her without at least fighting back a little! Maybe she could get in one good kick to their groin before they slashed her throat.

She ran to the opposite window and opened the drapes. There were bars across this window too.

Running to the door, she tugged and pulled on the knob. It would not budge.

It had been locked from the outside.