Chipnapped!

Excerpt: The Bells of St. Jacques

A coldhearted poacher looking for fame named Mack sets his eyes on the Seville boys...and steals them from their beds, in the dead of night! Now Dave and the Chippettes must embark upon a worldwide chase to reclaim their loved ones...before it's too late!

Les garçons de Séville en danger ! Dave dans une panique !

~(*)~

Hallo, everyone! It's fantastic to be back...gosh, I missed you all. I've been looking forward to publish this idea for a long time. It's been awhile since I've published anything...let alone an Alvin and the Chipmunks story. I can only hope it goes well. *Crosses fingers.*

Lately, I've become refascinated with some of my childhood shows...(Ever notice how the older cartoons seem to have a great deal more heart and charm then some of the newer ones?)...and I've been struggling with myself on whether or not to publish this story. It's marked angst for a reason, folks...and some details are very much like those that are found in A Chipmunk Adventure. Only a few elements, though-so try not to worry.

I've found, that whenever you find a close family bond in a story, it's sweet to write tales that will test those bonds. In Runaway-when the Chipmunks leave Dave to look for their mother-that was just the tip of the iceberg. Now, it's going to get just a little messy...

I don't really know how this story will end. But I hope you'll all follow me on this ride. *Hugs.* Anyhoo, I only have an excerpt as of right now, so if it sounds good, please drop a review and tell me so! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Please, take care, everyone.

Quote:

"To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells -
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells."

~(*)~

"RUN!"

That was a cry Alvin uttered often, and, for once, Simon and Theodore were glad to oblige. The three chipmunks scattered as the man's lumbering footsteps echoed from behind them-each heavy, staggeirng footstep resounding heavily in the old cathedral. Upset pigeons fluttered in their wake as the sprinted across the aged stones, cooing softly in indignantion.

He was coming for them, and they knew it.

Simon's glasses slipped from behind his ears, and, just as the young professor desperately reached up to pull the oversized lenses back on, they slipped from his shaking fingertips, and clattered to the ground with a light, tinkling crack as the glass in the specks shattered.

Simon whipped around by instinct to scoop them up, but Alvin's hand was still locked around his brother's arm, and the red clad chipmunk only continued running.

"Simon, COME ON!"

Now unable to see much of anything, Simon nonetheless shot his brother a filthy look as the three reached a stairwell. If Alvin had dropped his hat, there would be no question of going back!

From Alvin's right, Theodore huffed and puffed, his face quite ruddy, his large, chocolate brown eyes shot through with terror. He staggered, and one hand clutched at a stitch in his chest.

But the weight he'd lost from being trapped in the unit all last month could only help him, now. The three ran past a series of benches near an old altar, past a series of stained glass windows. A brilliant, dazzling spectrum of colors fell on the three children as they raced past, but they took no notice. Mack was still in pursuit behind them, and every second, it seemed like one of his enormous, fleshy hands would at last wrench itself around one of their necks-

And the game would end.

Mack was still sprinting after them, even as Alvin's dark eyes fluttered frantically around the old site, desperate for a way out. The man bellowed:

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE RATS!"

The terrible sound of his voice echoed around the old place; Theodore whimpered, his eyes spilling over with tears. Alvin only ran past a statue of the Virgin Mary, tugging his brothers alongside him.

For once, Alvin could not think of a smart-alecky, twitchy retort. There were none. His lungs were burning painfully beneath his ribs, and his mind was wiped clean of any rebutal.

If Mack caught them again, it was game over. They were done. Mack had made enough money out of the Chipmunks and the Chippettes. Unless the man was still vibrantly greedy for more...

...he'd follow through on his promise to turn them into taxidermy if he captured them. There would be no simple beating; no mere missed meal, no dark room, or chains.

And again-no Dave or Miss Miller to rescue any of them. Alvin's mind went cold as he heard Mack curse from behind them, and he sped up, narrowly avoiding bumping into a cask of holy water.

At last, he realized that this was no adventure. This could be a horror story-a dark horror story-with no happy ending, no victory over the monster. It would all end-especially if Mack hadn't been lying-and had recaptured the Chippettes. If Brittany could not pull a miracle out of her temper-

They were all doomed.

Alvin's eyes began to sting, but he disregarded it as Theodore again stumbled from behind him. Impatiently, Alvin jerked at his hand, but the effect was negative. Theodore fell onto his tummy with a loud cry of shock.

Immediately, the two chipmunks began to tug at their trembling brother's hands.

"Theodore-mrgh-GET UP!"

With a terrific tug, Theodore was again hoisted to his feet, and the three resumed their flight, running past door after door after door.

Where did this cathedral end? Where was-

"Alvin!"

Alvin glanced at his brother as they continued running. Simon still looked a bit dazed, and he had no choice but to trust Alvin to lead him-but his blurry vision could still make out a blaring red sign near an old door:

Sortie. Exit.

With a cry of relief, Alvin made a beeline for the door, dragging his brothers behind him. If they could just run out, find a le commissariat, or whatever it was you called them in this country-

This horror show just might have a happy en-

"!"

This time, Alvin was the one to stumble; and, as he held onto his brothers' hands-

As one fell, so did they.

Head spinning, stars flying in and out of his eyes, Alvin let out a soft groan of pain, and blindly fumbled to get up once again.

But not before a hand closed over his throat. And, as he was hoisted up, Alvin smelled achohol.

This time, the tears came.

Mack leered at him as he slowly came to, gasping for air, wriggling frantically like a fish ensnared in a net. Simon was locked in the other hand, kicking desperately-but blindly-and Theodore was crying out from the floor. Was Mack stepping on him?

Alvin attempted to glare at Mack, but his face was locked into fear as the man leered at him.

"So...you and your little girlfriend...are the little troublemakers."

His grip tightened; Alvin choked. Now, spots were fluttering in his vision-

Mack bent to whisper in the boy's ear, his voice sickeningly taunting.

"I'm going to break you, sonny boy. Didn't you hear that promise? But now, I guess I'll just have to make it LITERAL."

His hand tightened around Alvin's arm-the chipmunk let out a squeal of pain, in spite of himself-as he gasped for air that would not come.

Mack's cold blue eyes blazed at him.

"I'd like to say that it was nice knowing you, but..."

Alvin attempted to cry out for help, but there was no breath in his lungs. He attempted to take a breath, felt his throat itch, and begin to throb in retaliation. He stared at Mack through tearing eyes, not comprehending the possibility of being able to hate a human so potently as he did now.

Or, as Jeanette might say, pity. Funny. NOW, of all times, he understood.

Mack shook him, shaking him out of his reverie. Alabaster teeth aglow, the man cast the dying chipmunk a soft smile, as if he were crooning to an infant.

"...but...it really wasn't. Even if your voice IS worth a pretty penny, I've wanted to strangle it out of you so many times..."

Throwing down Simon contemptuously to the floor, even as Theodore attempted to claw at his side, Mack reached for his belt-where his knife was.

Where his knife was.

The man flicked it open with a free hand, still grinning. Alvin couldn't see the tip of the blade, but could now feel the cold steel...

...pressed against his throat. He swallowed, and his pulse quickened, as if heralding its host imminent doom. Alvin could faintly hear, as if it echoed from a tunnel:

"See you on the other side, brat."

Still kicking aching feet against the huge man, futile as he knew it was-Alvin threw his head to the ceiling. Sunlight continued to flicker in from the stained glass-calm and serene. The rainbow colors the four were bathed in completely disregarded what Alvin knew:

He was dying.

Still kicking, still fighting-he was choking, and he was going to die.

He was dying, and now, Mack was going to really kill him. After week upon miserable week, upon finally calling a truce with Brittany, on even getting his first kiss...

Before he got to watch Simon go to Yale. Theodore attend culinary school. He become a stuntman, or something cool.

Alvin's hat tumbled off his head as he felt Mack's hot breath upon his head-could feel those iron fingers tightening into a vicelike grasp.

Before they could go home. Before he could make peace with Dave after their fight; before he could see the Chippettes, or get babysat by Miss Miller again-

They were all going to die.

And, just like before, Dave wasn't there

The tears streamed down his face, and he braced himself.

But a moment went by.

And then another...

...and another. Alvin grit his teeth, and attempted to take a swing at the man. Simon let out another cry-and then, Alvin heard a CRASH.

Distracted, the chipmunk froze.

And, to his surprise, he heard a deafening BANG echo from somewhere behind him.

The grip on his neck loosened.

Almost giddy at the prospect, the chipmunk frantically took in several swallows of air.

Mack was no longer facing him. In fact, the man had him by the shoulders-but his focus was on the trembling door.

Trembling?

Alvin cast Theodore-who was currently trapped underneath Mack's foot-a bewildered glance. Some feet away, a dazed-looking Simon, lying at base of a pew, was clutching his head.

With some difficulty, Alvin turned around to face the door, squinting slightly.

The door began to tremble again. Then-

BAM.

Was someone kicking it?

BAM.

Someone was desperately throwing a great deal of weight behind it. And, by the looks of it, getting angrier by the second.

BAM!

And, in an explosion of dust, wood shavings, and debris, the door fell free, as its assailant-made inscutable by the dust-slowly stepped inside the old cathedral.

Mack's mean little eyes narrowed, as Simon feebly reached for his slightly mangled glasses still on the floor, and weakly tugged them on, before turning to face the entrance.

Simon's own eyes narrowed as he attempted to discern a visage from the darkness.