Hey Mikey, funny thing, a while ago I started writing this story but I left my page open for too long so I lost everything. I didn't even save a draft. I was pretty upset so I forgot about it for a while, but seeing how you really cared about this story, I decided I should write something. Here you go:
WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE
It was a warm Monday late afternoon and Mikey was jogging in the village absentmindedly. He must've been jogging for 20-25 mintes because he was getting short-winded when he noticed the black landscapers' van slowing down to a halt behind him. Was he being followed? Weird, he thought.
When then van stopped, a short man in a black suit and tie walked out. He looked nothing like a landscaper. He was older, with slicked back hair and a mustache and looked sharp. The man called after him: 'Hey you! Do you know how to get to Sherbourne?'
Deciding this man was too old and frail to be dangerous, Mikey happily obliged and gave the instructions: ‘Keep going north, I’m not sure how many lights, probably five or six, then you will see an intersection...’ ‘Heh? I can’t hear you, son. Come closer.’ Meh, though Mikey as he jogged towards the elderly man. He was old, and probably hard of hearing, he though. Then suddenly, the back door slid out and a huge man jumped out. He was much younger, in his thirties, had black curly hair, dark eyes and a menacing goatee. He wore a black suit just like his partner, except he was about almost a foot taller and very sturdily built (so around 6’5’’, at least 220 pounds). ‘Don’t move,’ the hulk snarled. Scared senseless, Mikey lifted his hands and surrendered himself. God, please don’t hurt me, he though. ‘I have money, around $20, if that’s what you want,’ he mumbled, almost inaudibly. ‘SHUT UP! I’m not interested in your money!’ The larger man shouted. He had one of those deep, booming voices that could scare any insignificant mortal into submission. ‘Well, not if it’s only twenty bucks. Is he the one, papa?’ The old man inspected Mikey’s face and eventually concluded ‘yes, it is him.’
‘GET IN THE CAR!’ The giant shouted again. At this point, Mikey became disobedient, so the man simply grabbed him and threw him in the van. (Now Mikeybound, forgive me since I don’t know what you look like, but for the story’s sake, I will assume you’re much smaller than your kidnapper and therefore easily dominated.) ‘HELP!!!’ Screamed Mikey, and in response, the old man wrapped a soaking rag around his mouth and nose. The rag smelled sickeningly sweet. Chloroform! Damn it, thought Mikey, this can’t be happening. He tried to fight his abductors, but the chloroform was far too strong, and after only several seconds his mind began drifting. He fought to keep his eyes open, but his muscles betrayed him and out he went like a drunk. The last thing he heard was the revving of the van engine and the giant man chuckling menacingly on top of him.
‘Hey, wake up, spoiled brat!’ This time, it was the old man’s raspy voice he heard. Mikey opened his eyes very slowly; it took him several seconds to remember what happened and accept his surroundings. He was in a semi-industrial, abandoned basement room, with gray cement walls, several blacked-out windows, and no furniture other than several chairs and wooden cabinets. These cabinets were equipped with working tools – several saws, hammers, screws, just simple woodworking tools, but he had the chilling sensation those sick men intended to hurt him. He did not need to look down to realize he was tied up to a chair. He was still wearing his gray training pants, white socks, sneakers and windbreaker jacket. His ankles were taped to the legs of the chair in several layers of duct tape. His midsection was tightly bound in yellowing hemp rope, with his hands taped behind his back, palms facing outward. At least he wasn’t gagged or blindfolded, or both. He was scared enough as it was. The restraints were tight, but not uncomfortably so. He assumed they were going to keep him like that for a long time.
‘What do you want from me?’ He asked in the most unassuming voice he could master under the circumstances. ‘Well firstly, allow us to introduce ourselves. My name is Lorenzo Cesi, and this is my son Vince,’ the hulk nodded slightly in recognition. ‘Does my name ring any bells, young man?’
‘Cesi, Cesi, hmm...’ Mikey scanned his mind audibly, fruitlessly trying to remember the name. ‘No, sorry guys.’ Ouch, this isn’t going to be good...
‘HE’S LYING!’ Vince the Giant yelled again. In the small basement room, his voice echoed like an earthquake. ‘His parents must owe you at least a hundred K!’
‘Vincenzo, basta! Essere tranquillo, bambino!’ The old man snapped again. For a second, Mikey seriously believe Vince wanted to turn his face into a pulp using his fist. ‘I’m sorry about him, my son is a little angry these days, problems at home and such. Anyways, here’s the thing: We believe your parents owe us a great amount of money they borrowed for starting a type of business...what was it again?’
‘You mean the computer hardware store?’
‘That’s it! They sell computer parts, keyboards and monitor and random crap like that? Sorry son, I’m old and not technologically savvy.’
‘Yes. Well, they actually do more programming, my dad is a computer programmer and he worked in high tech for like, 15 years...’
‘That’s all very fine and dandy, but they owe us a little over one hundred thousand dollars and it’s been several months since the deadline we set them, yet they still haven’t come up with the money. Do you see where I’m going with this?’
Mikey became very angry. His parents were financially irresponsible, and as a result, he was kidnapped by their loan sharks who will now demand a ransom for his release. He tried to turn the blame onto them: ‘So you’re trying to tell me you led my parents a hundred thousand big ones, fully knowing they will not be apply to repay you? That’s a little irresponsible, don’t you think? And you’ve kidnapped their son as a form of revenge?’
‘I wouldn’t call it revenge, Mikey Smith...’ hissed Vince. His voice was even more menacing when he’s calm. Crap, he knows my last name! Thought Mikey. ‘We just really need that money, and if your parents weren’t going to pay us, we needed to put a little pressure on them. And you literally ran into my arms, who would’ve thought?’ Vince laughed loudly. I didn’t.
‘I see exactly what you did. I’m your prisoner, and you’re not going to release me until my dad pays those one hundred thousand dollars?’
‘It’s one hundred fifty four thousand, two hundred and seven dollars,’ Lorenzo corrected me, ‘and fifty eight cents. We’re going to hold on to you for as long as we need, eventually your parents will realize that they miss you and something will happen.’
‘Crap! And if they don’t pay, you’re not going to kill me, are you?’ Mikey pleaded.
‘As unbelievable as this might sound, we do not want to hurt you, son. We’re more worried about the police getting involved. We’re organized criminals; we have a reputation to uphold. If your parents dare to even think about calling the cops, you’re going to be sent home in a wooden box, do you understand me?’ Meanwhile, Vince noticed my ropes have been getting loose around my chest and stomach so he fastened them and tied additional ones to keep me secured to my chair.
‘This is not fair! Is there anything I can do?’
‘Mr. Smith, life isn’t fair, I believe you’re old enough to know that. Now we’re going to leave you here for an hour or two, and then we’ll have to ask you some questions, which you will have to answer. Vince, do me a favour and put the sleeping mask on him?’
The sleeping mask ended up being a black sleeping blindfold which Vince used to cover Mikey’s eyes. ‘Oh God, No! Take that thing off me! Please!’
‘We suggest you stop screaming, or else we’ll have to gag you too. Come on Vincenzo, let’s go.’ And there they left Mikey, bound tightly to his wooden chair, his hands taped behind his black, and a blindfold covering his eyes, disorienting him. He could scream for help, but he knew they were in an abandoned place, and he would only tire himself. Mikey had no idea how long his parents, or anybody else for that matter, would take before they decided to pay his ransom. All he could do is contemplate about his horrible fate, and hope that somehow he would be saved.
Should Mikey be saved? Or should Vince Cesi have some fun with him first?

Sorry I can't talk now, I'm a little tied up at the moment.