This weeks prompt from Studio30 Plus is:
Skulduggery and/or Shenanigans
[noun] underhanded or unscrupulous behavior; secret or dishonest activity
And this weeks image is brought to you from prompt at The Dark Room.
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It wasn’t a good idea. I should never have left the safety of the hotel to go exploring the unfamiliar territory on my own. I should have listened to my bossy roommate boss me into not breaking the rules. But no, stubborn me, I swore to my roommate Theresa that I would be just fine alone.
“Besides,” Determined, I laced my hiking boots and stood up, “What could go wrong?” There ya go, the minute those words fall from ANYONE’S mouths, it’s foreshadowing. So, why would it be any different for me?
She just gave me the stink-eye as I slithered out of the room and off on my questionably wise adventure.
But, as I started hiking the Scandinavian forest trail, all concern about ramifications were erased from my mind. It was just me and nature, the way I liked it. Too much group togetherness over the course of this two week college trip where we came to Norway to study Norse history, right at its root. I needed me time, something that wasn’t in the trip description that I never took into consideration when signing up.
The forest was spectacular. The smell of Scots pine and birch permeated the crisp air. I inhaled deeply, savoring the unfamiliar scent. New York City was lacking in forests and fresh air, I could get exceptionally used to natural living.
A body of water was close, I could hear the bubbling movement of it. Of course, being curious by nature, I followed my ears. And here was when my harmless shenanigan came to a screeching halt and went full-throttle ass-backwards.
The bridge looked sturdy enough. It really did. I tested it by stepping up and jumping a couple times. When it showed no signs of collapsing, I started to walk across it. What I didn’t take into account was that, perhaps, the middle of the bridge wasn’t quite as hearty as the end I started on.
It wasn’t the snap of splintering wood that surprised me. The frigid iciness of the water as I was pulled under, that didn’t shock me. The whole “Life and Times of Mia Randall” motion picture playing in my brain as I thought I was going to die, although a pathetic display of 19 years, that didn’t do much to stupefy me either.
I was finally able to think straight and lose the backpack. It wasn’t super heavy but when it filled with water, it didn’t aid in buoyancy. Once I was free of it, I was able to get back to the surface of the surprisingly deep stream. That wasn’t the crux of this situation.
When I was finally done gasping for breath and was able to focus, that’s when I realized I was no longer alone. A small group of muscular men decorated with tribal looking tattoos and holding out intimidatingly sharp looking swords, that’s when the shock set in.
I started to laugh at how ridiculous these guys looked.
“Is that what you men do around here, dress up as Vikings and try to scare damsels in distress?” I was pissed and scared and these idiots weren’t helping matters much.
I was still on the ground, dripping and shivering. The fellas were talking angrily amongst themselves in an unrecognizable language but seeing as I only took Spanish, any Nordic language was unrecognizable. One of the main reasons I was supposed to stay with my group.
The swords were still pointing toward me and some fingers, as well. Finally, a broad man with a blonde beard and thick brown hair grabbed my bare arm and roughly pulled me up to my feet. His hands were rough and calloused, his fingernails chipped and dirty. I was a little grossed out, despite the incredibly azure eyes framed by lush brown lashes.
But hey, he helped me up. I was grateful.
As I was about to thank him, another equally thick, filthy and half naked man reached around my waist and threw me over his muscular shoulders.
It was then I realized they hadn’t come in peace.
So, I did what any girl in my situation would do.
I started screaming. Loudly.
And kicking as hard as I could in the position I was in.
I heard a deep grumble and thought I might have gotten one of the assailants in the face with my soggy hiking boots.
I kept my frantic kicking going, even though it was exhausting.
I was hoping to bruise a couple more of my kidnappers who got too close.
That’s when everything went black.
I want to know what happens!