Captive *Complete*

Ethan Miller. Ethan found himself in deep trouble, lost in a treacherous place, chased by a serial killer. The FBI trusted him with this mission to find and locate the infamous killer. And to his luck, he ended up being the one on the run, chased by a deranged man. The killer and his dog were well trained and relentless. They mercilessly chased after him for what seemed like hours, showing no signs of backing down. Ethan was panting, finding it hard to breathe. He could see his breath misting before his face in the moonlight. In this dark place, surrounded by massive trees and thick shrubs, the wind howling in his ears, making it more ominous than what it looked. It was mid-December, and this year seemed colder than ever. The ground covered by thick snow, two feet deep, and the many Magnolia trees that usually showed off colorful flowers in different shades of pink were already covered and glittering with frost. He cursed under breath, groaning as he leaned against a big tree, hissing while adjusting the makeshift bandage around his upper thigh. The bullet was grinding painfully against his bone, making it hard for him to move. The thought of the killer only shooting his leg to stop him from fleeing has crossed his mind. He had this unsettling feeling that he wanted to catch him, more than kill him. Ethan, just by the sound of those gunshots, figured that the fugitive had a sniper rifle, and that he was precise with his shots. The first bullet had hit his leg, but the rest seemed to direct his path in a certain direction. Could it be that he's forcing me to run towards a trap? Ethan shook these dark thoughts out of his head, disregarding all his doubts. He knew that slowing the bleeding was the best option, for now. Ignoring the agonizing pain, he concentrated on controlling his breathing so he could listen better, looking far behind him for any trace of the crude man. The area was so eerie, only the echoey sound of the harsh wind blowing and the rustling of leaves could be heard. There was no sign of life around him as if he were the only person there. He couldn't hear the growls of the dog any longer, and it made this troubling feeling upset his stomach again. He didn't know if whether this signaled an end to the pursuit or only a pause. He didn't know if that psychopath was watching him from afar, waiting for the right moment to strike again, rendering all his efforts fruitless. Ethan took his time in assessing the ground around him, taking this time to recover his stamina and rest his wounded leg. And when his breathing calmed down, his hearing cleared, leaving him baffled when no treacherous sounds could be heard. It was well past midnight, so the bastard might as well had decided that his wounded victim wouldn't get far, waiting for daylight to resume the chase was the best bet. The thought of tracing back his steps to check if the killer went back to his cabin was tempting. But then again, he was wounded, tired, and helpless. Ethan could only push himself to find a way out of this dense forest. He studied his surroundings one last time, trying to figure out the right way back to civilization. Ethan knew that he could be just venturing deep inside the forest, but he couldn't stop now. He knew he was being careless for attempting to find his way at night, more like he was being suicidal. He pushed himself away from the tree and resumed walking, using a thick broken stick he had found. The terrain didn't exactly lend itself to limp along with a good and steady rhythm. Ethan had so much trouble and used a lot of effort to keep himself from slipping down. The ground he'd have to cover was probably three to four miles, at least, to reach safety, and that was assuming he could even last long enough to make this journey. His mind instinctively calculated, and he tried to ignore the odds of his success. He was wounded, although it wasn't fatal. He has lost a lot of blood and needed medical attention. And he lost most of his gear too, including water. Thankfully, he still had his handgun. At the thought of it, he quickly checked the magazine to find only four bullets left. "Great." The bastard would probably come after him armed to the teeth. Ethan knew this was a race against time, and his chances of survival were slim to none. If the killer wouldn't find and kill him, probably an enraged bear would. This area wasn't well-known for bears activity, but for wolves, that was a different case; these woods named after them. 'Blue Creek Wolves Forest'. Just great. He stopped again to rest, leaning against another tree, panting for air. Ethan had the uneasy feeling that he had lost more blood than he originally had thought, and that was why he was having trouble focusing. Why he was light-headed, and his breathing was more like panting. "Taking a night stroll, I see?" A sarcastic voice startled him. Ethan found himself staring at the end of a double-barrel sawed-off shotgun, all too clear under the moonlight. He actually had to force himself to lift his gaze from the barrels and focus on the man holding the weapon. "Taking a night stroll?" The stranger repeated, his tone was calm and firm. The angle made it impossible for Ethan to see his face. Could it be the killer? No, he couldn't be, or else he would've shot me by now. Ethan did his best to study the man as if he were trying to remember every detail. The guy had washed out jeans on, and a warm jacket with a fur-trimmed hood pulled up, covering most of his face. Although Ethan didn't have a good look at what the fugitive was wearing when he was chasing him, he was sure that he didn't have such a warm-looking jacket. In this freezing weather, a tiny bit of jealousy filled Ethan's heart, hoping he had this jacket on to cover him from these harsh conditions. If Ethan weren't feeling weak, he would've probably handled the situation differently. The giddiness was only getting worse. "I ran into some troubles while hiking." He answered with difficulty, hoping that his tone was convincing. In the same calm tone, the man said. "Yeah, people often run into bullets all the time here. Especially when it's miles away off the hiking trails and on private land." There was no hint of sarcasm or hostility in his tone, just a monotone, bored one. Ethan, even in his weary state, noticed the main point. "How do you know that it's a bullet wound? I might have fallen or. . .something." The stranger answered his question with another."That gun comes with a badge?" Ethan wondered how he could see his handgun since it was in a shoulder holster inside his zipped up jacket. He hesitated a bit and felt obliged to answer under the threat of that lethal weapon. "Sort of." The man didn't like his answer, pointing the shotgun at his face. "Either you have a badge, or you don't." His voice still calm and somehow warm. It made Ethan feel relaxed when he should feel threatened. "I'm a private investigator." He said, hoping he wasn't slurring his words in his haste to explain himself. "I was hired to locate an escaped fugitive." He added. "Escaped from where?" "Uh. . .Carolina. Federal custody in North Carolina." "And, they sent a civilian after him?" There was a faint hint of amusement in his voice. "Not at first. I mean. . .there were state cops and FBI, and a bunch of people with tracking dogs, but he gave them all the slip. And in these mountains. . .Well, fugitives have gone missing pretty much forever." "So, you were hired." "Yeah, I'm good at these sorts of things," Ethan muttered, wryly aware of the irony that drove him to add. "Usually." "And did you locate him?" Ethan had to think about that for a minute. Just because this stranger had a gun on his face, it didn't mean he had to tell him everything. He eyed the man carefully, yet still couldn't see his face because of that large hood covering it. The idea of him being the fugitive crossed his mind again, but the fact that this man was acting indifferent about the whole thing didn't add up. "Yeah," He heard himself say. "It was supposed to be find and report, that's all. The sneaky bastard slipped behind me when I was waiting for him to return to his cabin for me to leave. After that, I was just trying to get away from him and his dog." "The Mad Vigilante." The stranger said as a confirmation. "The Mad Vigilante, what a silly name." Ethan chuckled bitterly at the name the public gave to the ruthless killer, and the other didn't seem quite impressed, sighing. A faint awkwardness filled his heart, hesitantly asking. "How do you know of him?" Ethan chuckled at his own stupidity, feeling a bit embarrassed. "You must've heard of him from the news. How did you know he's the man I'm after? And did you see him around the area?" The guy nodded and looked around the terrain, scanning the surroundings before looking down at Ethan. "There aren't many of us up here at this time of year, so I noticed him when he got here." "And why are you out at this time?" He couldn't help but ask, feeling curious about this guy. If he knew that the Mad Vigilante was nearby, why didn't he report him? And why was he roaming in the dark when a serial killer was on the loose? "I heard gunshots, and the whole area is a no-hunting zone. Besides which, it wasn't a rifle fire that I heard." Ethan wondered why now he was aiming the shotgun above his head again and realized, only then, that he was sliding slowly down against the tree. His body felt weak, dizzy, unable to stand upright. "Those would've been him shooting at me, and me. . .returning fire. I wasn't supposed to shoot him, so. . .I didn't try to hit him. . .but he didn't give me the same courtesy." He looked around for any signs of hostility, before shaking his head to clear his vision. He abruptly moved his wounded leg, making him lowly hiss from the pain. "Shit." A sigh misted in the air in front of the face he couldn't make out, the stranger lowered his shotgun, his eyes seemed calculating. "God, you look heavy, and it's going to be a b***h getting you back to my place." Well, I'm sorry for being heavy for a big man like yourself, Ethan swallowed his words, fighting the urge to snarky bit back at the stranger, taking offense at what he said. Yet, with the situation he was in, he didn't want to offend the man and get abandoned to fend for himself. He sighed, defeated, a slight pout pulling on his lips. "Are we going to your place? That. . .sounds like. . .a good idea." "An idea that would work better if you don't pass out along the way." If he had it in him, Ethan would've rolled his eyes. The guy was treating him as if he were weak. Yes, he was wounded and feeling sluggish and a bit of faintness, but he wouldn't lose consciousness any time soon. "Pass out? Nah. I'm. . .fine. Just need to rest a little. . .while and. . .I'll be. . .a. . .okay." The guy bent towards him, and Ethan tried hard to see his face, but all he caught was the glowing blue of his eyes. You've got ways to go before you're A-okay, pal. It was the last thing he remembered, wondering if that had been his thought or that of the stranger.