A silent trance fell over Ken, so quiet he could hear his own heart pounding out of his chest. Then the silence was interrupted by his door being broken down. "YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL FROM ME" angrily echoed through his small home and jolted Ken back into reality. He ran into his house to try and explain the honest mistake that landed the man's drugs into Ken's garage. However, by the time Ken got through the door to try and explain he was greeted by a sharp blow to his face. It must have been something real hard because it knocked him down and drew a good amount of blood from Ken. His vision recocered only to reveal a fairly big Latin man pointing a pistol right between his eyes. "It was a mistake, I didn't even know it was.." before ken could finish talking all he could see was a boot drawing speed towards his face.
Ken awoke several hours later in a daze with his head wound screaming in agony. He couldn't see much where he was in but a moon shining through a window pane illuminating small parts through the room he was in. There was another person in the room with him! But it wasn't anyone dangerous. After looking the person down ken noticed a woman sobbing silently across from him. It was an all too familiar face, a beautiful face defiled by messy hair and ruined mascara. "I didn't mean to drag you into this, I was just doing my job" she whined out to the now conscious Ken. Ken was overtaken with many thoughts looming over his head. Why him and how did he get dragged into such a mess without doing anything?
There was no one to blame because like the girl told him, she was just doing her job. "Don't worry about it, there are much more pressing matters that deserve our concern right now and crying won't help us any. Ken tried to move toward the girl to console her but could only move nothing more than a few inches from where he was. Much do his dismay Ken had been chained down heavily to a support beam. Ken's subtle attempts at moving quickly turned into violent spasms. Ken had never been detained in his life and he damn sure didn't like it. "My name is Mya" she told him attempting to console him. "What's going to happen to us?" she said but Ken couldn't even muster up an answer before the sound of a door opening above them broke the silence between them. A large silhouette appeared downstairs with a very belligerent demeanor. "You really shouldn't mess with me, you have no idea who you tried to screw over. I'm part of a much larger group of people across the boarder who don't appreciate you two trying to make a move on us. I'll tell you what's going to happen to you, you're going to learn just how violent a cartel can be" those were the man's departing words and possibly the worst thing that Ken could have heard about the situation.
The door slammed behind the man and the looming idea of the torture and death awaiting him led Ken to desperately try to escape captivity. But there was a huge obstacle standing in the way of Ken even beginning to contemplate escape..
the chains that bound him to his eventual death. The beautiful Mya's soft brown eyes began to fill with water as she fed off of Ken's desperation at escape. There was nothing that could be done at this juncture, Ken couldn't see anything besides Mya and vice versa. If anything was going to happen it would have to wait until the morning before it happened. But for the meantime Ken still did battle with his immediate enemy. His hands had been bound behind his back and he was hurting his shoulder by trying to escape but that didn't matter, he didn't know how much time he had left before he had to deal with not one but an indefinite amount of people who are going to want to kill him. If he hadn't been knocked out, then maybe he could at least do something according to where he was. He didn't want to risk breaking through the above window just to find out that he was in the middle of a dessert or something. Then he'd be facing a very pissed off and dangerous man alone. So Ken decided it'd be best to wait until morning to size up how deep into the quicksand he was. It was heavily ironic how the first time he had shared anything to talk about with a pretty girl had to be when they were both bound and getting ready to be killed
