My Scandinavian Adventrue is Ruined

Apparently, I passed out because I woke up inside of an airport restroom. Why those people brought me here, don’t ask. I don’t know either.

Surrounding me were stalls, urinals (Well I guess I’m in the Men’s room.), and sinks. The tile, beneath me, littered with paper towels, was freezing cold. That gave me a clue as to how long I’ve been “asleep”, not too long. Vandalism was everywhere. Tourists have written things like “Mark rulez” and “Joe loves Sue”. Nobody seemed to care a whole lot about what the restroom looked liked.

A bare bulb lit the room with a bright light, burning my eyes after an hour of darkness. The door was thrown open and in stepped a broad and muscular man, the man in my dreams. The ice blue eyes looked into mine with curiosity and concern. Why was he worried about me? The last time we met, it seemed as though he had meant to kill me. Slowly, he asked, “Can you stand?” I nodded in response. “Then come with me.”

He helped me onto my feet. I had to lean on his arm in order to find my balance again, but soon enough, I was pacing briskly behind him. Crowds of people hustled and bustled about the airport, seeking their plane. Most of the population was Scandinavian, but a few Americans could be spotted here and there.

He stopped abruptly in front of a door with the words “Do Not Enter” marked on the glass window. We entered, only to find an empty room, but this man knew what he was doing.

The man hastily pulled a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket, read it, crumpled it up, and ate it. How gross was that!? There had better be some explaining when they reached their destination. Quickly, he made his way to the far side of the room, and even more quickly, he shouted a word. It was the most foreign word his mind would ever be capable of comprehending for it sounded almost beastly. The walls pulled back to reveal a much longer room and powerful. It wasn’t that the room had power itself, but the person sitting at the end of the rectangular table which filled the room.

“Here he is. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, checking the restroom periodically”, said my guide.

“We’ve been ready to talk for quite some time now”, the gruff and powerful voice said. “Well then, sit down. Take a seat.” I took a seat at the bottom of the table, opposite of him. Glances of distaste landed on me from the formal and business-like people who were obviously in the middle of an important meeting. “I bet you are wondering what you did to get in this predicament.” He had said it almost amusingly. I seethed but tried to hide it.

I studied him. He looked powerful all right. He was young, in his mid-twenties perhaps, and the deep green of his eyes bore into mine. The man dressed expensively, but I could only guess because my interests weren’t in suits and weekend golf. His head was shaven, and his jaw jutted forward, making him look confident and strong.

There was a twinkle of amusement within his eyes still, and I started to wonder why. This man was my captor. He’s supposed to be calling my parents for ransom, torturing me, or whatever. Instead, he wants me to talk with him. What should I do?

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

The man smile his sinister smile, and looking me in the eye, he said, “It’s not what I want, Troy. It’s what you want.”

“I don’t understand. You go through all of the trouble of kidnapping me on a plane just so you can play mind games with me?”

“We’re not playing mind games, Troy. In fact, we're being quite straight-forward."

Again, He smiled something sinister and bored his eyes into mine with a fiery intensity which made me drop my eyes and look toward the floor. I guess I should play along? I thought.

"What I want, hm? Well, I want a great many things. Why don't you be more specific?" I said cooly.

"Troy, troy. You want to go to Scandinavia. Don't you?"

"It's where I was headed..."

"But do you know, Troy, about the dangers in Scandinavia?"

I didn't try to hide my puzzlement. All I want to know is what the hell the guy was talking about. I know the guy, for some strange reason or other, doesn't want me to go to Trollkyrka, but why is that?

"Tell me just one reason you don't want me to go."

" Have you ever heard of a creature called ... a troll ... Troy?"

I frowned and said,"Yeah, why are you asking that?"

"Partly curiosity, partly because they're real and inhabiting Scandinavia."

He said it with ease, almost casually, and it scared me at first, to think that a troll actually existed. Then I smiled and said," You're lying."

"No, Troy, I'm not." He rose from his seat and walked toward the door. "Nice  meeting you. I hope we won't be meeting again."

He shouted a new word, this one equally disturbing and strange. The wall behind me parted and he left through the door on the far side of the other room. All of his nerds followed suit, each glancing at me menacingly and leaving the room. That left me with Tough Guy.

"So," I said quietly. "What happens to me?"

The big guy looked down on me with a cold stare and said,"You come with me."