Andrew Forsythe (androphagos) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-07-29 23:52:00 |
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It had taken a few days to figure out where his target lived, but now Andrew was finally standing in front of the house in which an 'Elizabeth Cornfoot' hopefully resided. There was a very large part of him that felt guilty about dragging a pregnant woman out of her home and kidnapping her against her will -- this sort of job wasn't exactly the sort of thing he had signed up to do when he thought he would be helping the Dark Army secure greater freedom for werewolves -- but on the other hand, after his poor performance arresting Tabitha MacFusty the previous month, he had to do something to redeem himself and hopefully not get himself thrown out of the pack or even killed as a punishment for his supposed 'cowardice'. A careful stalk around the house and trying to listen through the windows had seemed to suggest that there wasn't anyone home, but he had to give it a go anyway -- perhaps it meant she was home alone without her husband and possible older children present to get in the way. He hid the rope he had brought to bind her behind his back and gave the door a few loud, but polite knocks as he tried to make himself look relatively presentable -- the faster this could be done, and with as little violent struggle as possible, the better. Elizabeth had been sitting in her recliner in the sitting room for far too long -- a Healer's order for bed rest several weeks earlier had put a damper on the overwhelming joy she was supposed to be feeling at the moment. She'd been idle every afternoon and had a stack of romance novels on the end table that she'd read twice over, cover-to-cover. If her husband hadn't been so adamant about her being 'well rested for the baby's sake', she was sure that she felt well enough to be walking around or going to work, so long as it was something other than watching the minute-hand on the clock's ticking or wondering when this would finally be over so that she could experience some different and far more appealing joys of motherhood. Without thinking, she nearly leaped from the chair when she heard the knock on the door. Who could possibly be calling on her in the afternoon when nearly everyone she knew was occupied with interesting things at their respective places of employment? It was no matter, really. She was simply grateful for the excitement, or at least the breaking of post-tea monotony. With some effort, she lifted herself to her feet and walked to the door, opening it without even bothering to peephole first. "Hello," she said, as cordially as she could manage when she saw this most curious stranger on her doorstep. "May I help you?" Andrew tried his best to offer a smile that hopefully wasn't unintentionally predatory in appearance as he unwound the ropes behind his back, waiting for the right moment to pounce on her and hopefully get this over with without hurting her and the baby too badly. Actually seeing the pregnant woman standing in front of him made him feel even guiltier about what he was about to do than before, but he had orders and there must have been a good reason for why she had to be brought to the Foundation centre by force. 'Mrs Elizabeth Cornfoot, I presume?' he asked, keeping his tone polite and conversational and hope that would keep her guard down. "Yes," she answered, leaning back to shift her front-heavy weight into a slightly more comfortable position. She opened the door a bit wider and rested her hand on top of her stomach. "And you are...?" 'Well, actually, that's not necessary for you to --' Andrew didn't see any reason why she would lie about her identity -- and there was always mail he could check later if there was time -- so before he finished his sentence, he suddenly lunged forward and grabbed at the woman with his free arm in an attempt to turn her around and pull her roughly towards him, hoping he could tie her up quickly once she had her back right against him without much of a struggle. Elizabeth both gasped and took an unsteady step backward as Andrew came toward her. When she felt his hand on her, she screamed as loudly as she could, hoping that one of their neighbors or anyone nearby might hear her and come to help her. She did not have time to wonder who this man was or why on earth he appeared to be trying to hurt her, and instead tried to slam the door on him before he could get to her. Having yanked her arm just out of his reach and only just in time, she turned and tried to run -- though being as pregnant as she was, that was practically impossible -- into the sitting room where she had left her wand. It was a damn good thing Fenrir or a Death Eater of higher rank than the one who had Apparated both of them to the location were not around this time to see that he had just failed to grab an unassuming and apparently unarmed pregnant woman who was only standing a foot or two away from him -- he couldn't imagine what sort of chastising or punishment he would get for that -- but she couldn't have gone far enough to get away for long, at least not if she really didn't have her wand on her person. After nearly resorting to kicking down the door as per usual Dark Army protocol, he remembered it was unlocked anyway and simply shoved it open again once he gave the doorknob a sharp twist. The woman hadn't run -- if her toddling under the extra weight could be called running -- too far down the hall, and he noticed she was standing on what looked like a long carpet. He could clear the distance between them in a few steps, but for all he knew, she had her wand by now and could hex him with her fake Latin before he got close enough. Just to be safe, he had to incapacitate her somehow first. 'I'm so sorry about this, ma'am, but this for your own good,' he shouted, half as an apology and half as a warning that he was about to do something rather unpleasant. He bent down to drop the rope and grab hold of the carpet, hoping some sort of maternal instinct would jump in to protect the baby for now as he stood up and yanked the fabric out from under her feet. Not having been about to heed the man's warning (and likely being too much in a panic to have even heard him), Elizabeth had been only a few steps away from the end of the rug and only a few more away from her wand when Andrew pulled the rug. Unbalanced enough to begin with, she lost her footing immediately. Knowing that she was going to fall down, she was almost more terrified than she had been running away from the stranger -- if she fell forward, even trying to catch herself with her hands would not prevent her landing stomach-first and potentially injuring her unborn child. Knowing this, she tried twist herself around in a desperate attempt to protect the baby, and she landed hard on hip and shoulder, sliding several feet forward on the slick wood floor beneath the rug before she finally came to a stop. Looking up at the werewolf, she found herself all but crippled by her fear and when she spoke, it was in a ragged half-shout. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, trying to push herself further away from him and looking for some way to escape Andrew couldn't help but cringe as the woman fell -- and again, it was a good thing none of his superiors were really around to watch what would certainly be seen as a moment of weakness -- and he had suppress a natural urge to apologise profusely and help the woman to her feet as he walked over to where she was on the floor so he could bind and gag her before any neighbours alerted the authorities about her screams. 'We're just taking you to a Foundation centre for an appointment,' he said lightly as he finished knotting the ropes and tying a band of cloth around her mouth to keep her quiet. There were a few envelopes sitting on a nearby table that he rifled through to double-check that this was, in fact, the Cornfoot household once he was able to stand up. 'As I said, it's for your own good, and the baby's as well.' That done, he called over the Death Eater who was still waiting outside, and with a loud crack, the three of them disappeared and left behind an empty house for the woman's husband to return home to in only a few hours. |