Abduction

“What... Happened?” She tried to sit up straight, but her body was still exhausted from last night. Flashbacks of yesterday's party appeared in her mind, and they made her smile. Yesterday was a lot of fun, she thought.

"I wonder whether Dante and the others are awake," she rubbed her eyes then finally got up.

It took her a hot second to realize that this, this was not her bed.

This... this is not my room, she thought, panic beginning to invade her heart. Or any place I know.

"What the hell? Why am I here?!" She immediately got up and left the room to look for an exit. She checked the first door across that of the bedroom. It was a bathroom. She then turned right to an opening that leads to a small living and kitchen room. Across the room, there was a door.

She rushed towards that last door.

This must be an exit door, she thought. The lady tried to pry it open, but It was locked.

"DAMN IT!"

"Nonono..." she muttered to herself. "This can’t be happening." At that point, the panic was taking over really quickly.

"O-okay... D-deep breath." She inhaled slowly, then exhaled.

"Deep breaths”

"Someone is gonna come get me. It surely hasn’t been long since I got kidnapped." That sounded logical enough. "Once my family realizes it, they will start looking for me."

"Now... I should just hold on until then. Look around, see how I can do that."

She explored around, opened every storage unit there was. Whoever brought me here didn’t want to treat me like a kidnapped victim, she thought, or at least that’s what the apartment suggests. She had a million questions to ask but no one to ask them to.

She was in a plain, empty apartment, with nothing to entertain herself other than thoughts.

On the bright side, some practically put everything I need here to live... Weird, but alright. The lady was skeptical of everything.

There were 3 pairs of plain black shirts and pants, perfect size, and undies. The bathroom had all the basic necessities. There was a meal on the kitchen counter, some juices, and water that the girl hadn’t noticed before.

Clothes, food, electricity, water, even some utensils! Everything. They clearly didn’t want me to die here.

She looked in the kitchen cupboards but didn’t find any more food.

Well... Not much food in here, she thought. But I’m sure I’ll get some, somehow.

She never washed the clothes she wore because there was no machine. After some time of living there, she assumed that someone was visiting the apartment at night to stock her up on her needs-food, clothes, drinks.

There was no decoration of any type; everything was kept to a minimum. Living, or rather surviving, in this place was not a problem.

The only window was locked and tinted. The victim could barely make out anything when she looked through it, and it was too strong to break with a knife. The front door, too, seemed to never open.

Days — no, time passed, as she had no sense of the outside world — and no one came.

She never felt more frustrated.

How could they not come? Is it really that hard to find an apartment?! That was the understanding part of her thinking. It was either that or the more dreadful thoughts - Did they... even notice my being gone?

She had been isolated from human contact for quite a while, and it started taking a toll on her mental state.

One day, at some point, she thought that perhaps humans went extinct, that they all died, and she was the only one left.

Or maybe an apocalypse happened, and people went into hiding because it was not safe anymore...

So much time on her hand, not nearly enough thoughts.

Maybe I’m just hallucinating all of this. I would wake up tomorrow; everything would be back to normal. The victim tried to reassure herself in any way. Yeah, yeah. That is right.

The lady’s hair was a mess, and her eyes were a little red, too. She did not take a shower "yesterday."

But... How Do I even know that was yesterday? What if it is still today? What if it was last week?

Her hair was very tangled. Her eyes were redder than last time; they looked wearier. It has been a while since her last shower. And... Her stomach is making a lot of noise.

But I do not- I do not feel like eating, she thought; I hope that if I am hungry enough, my brain will wake me up from this...

She paced back and forth... All around the house, hugging herself, so tense and so scared. So vulnerable.

It is one bad dream, a nightmare; I know it. I will be okay.

She curled up at a corner of the bedroom, near the bed, with her eyes red after plenty of wakeful hours and a weak body.

"Please, Someone help." the girl hugged herself so fiercely as if she was holding on to something important. Her heart ached, an exhausted machine in her. She felt a lump form in her throat; soon enough, tears trickled down her cheeks, and she rested her head down on her knees and cried.

She did not cry for long, though, because at some point during the breakdown, she fell asleep...

.

.

.

She wakes up to a loud, rackety banging. Someone, or something, is hitting the window on the corner of the house.

She gets up, all groggy and wobbly from the uncomfortable position she slept in, and goes see what is wrong.

As she walks closer, the noise gets louder and louder, and she starts hearing some people screaming behind it.

It was making her all curious.

She is just 2 meters far from the window when the heavy glass finally gives in and shatters to a million pieces.

"IT’S DOWN! GO IN, GO IN!" She hears a person shout loudly.

In no time, two heavily armed people come in.

When the first person notices her, he points the gun at her and yells, “THIS IS THE HRT! HANDS UP IN THE AIR!”

The two assets nod to each other, then one holds his gun steadily pointed at the victim while the other scouts the whole apartment, going in and out of rooms. She then comes back and whispers something to the man’s ear, something the victim couldn’t make out, and shows him a crumbled paper. The man glances back at the victim and lowers his rifle.

The victim just stands there, confused and shaken as ever. The idea that someone had finally come to rescue her could not be comprehended by her. It was too much to process; she needed time.

Then the man signals to someone from towards the window, and a third person leaps inside. He turns around, allowing the victim to get a good look at him. His short and fluffy hair, pretty grey eyes, pretty face - all of that, all of it, was familiar.

It doesn’t take the victim any time to realize who she was seeing. That person is standing in front of her. Her blood runs cold. She doubles over, from plain shock, and leans on the wall to her left for support.

It really was him.