72 Hours: A Ticking Time Bomb

{-CHAPTER ONE, SECTION 1 STARTS-}

{-THE ONE WHO SAW IT ALL-}

January 19th 2023.

The day was rainy. No one was really out and about that day. No one, that is, except for Dutch singer Duncan Laurence. Little did he know, that was the day he shouldn't have been out and about in the streets of Los Angeles.

It was around seven p.m. The rain was pouring. Duncan has his raincoat on, but it didn't make much of a difference to how bitter cold he felt. His teeth chattered and his fingers had began to feel numb, it wasn't supposed to be this cold, for he was in Los Angeles. However, he could feel the breeze down his back endlessly blowing as he walked. He knew he had to find somewhere to keep warm.

Suddenly, he heard a call. A bellowing call from the other side of the street.

"HELP!!! SOMEONE PLEASE!! HELP!!!"

It was a young girl's voice. Without thought, Duncan ran to the scene, the wailing voice was getting closer as Duncan ran faster. The cries of distress  seemed to get louder the closer Duncan got to the danger.

Suddenly, the cries stopped.

Duncan got really scared. What if that poor girl was murdered? He knew he had to investigate.

Suddenly, he heard loud banging noises from inside an old house. No one had lived there. The house had been abandoned for years, maybe even decades.

Something inside Duncan knew that this was where the cries of help were coming from.

He walked slowly up the tattered staircase to the house, the wooden stairs were cracked and they creaked every time he so much as took a slight step. He made it to the front patio. The house didn't have any windows that were able to be looked through. Wool tapestry covered the windows from the inside. No one could look inside.

Duncan had to open the door to find out what was inside. He took a breath as he walked into the old abandoned house.

Once he made it in the house, he felt a cold shiver down his spine. He didn't know if it was from the breeze of the door, the temperature of the house, or something else....

That's when he heard the door slam behind him. He jumped.

"H-hello?... W-w-who's there?" Duncan trembled. He looked around and saw no one. Nothing.

Duncan sighed. No one was here. He decided to leave. He walked towards the door, turned the handle and....

The door was locked.

"Wh-what???" Duncan was terrified. That's when he heard a slight hissing sound, like a spray of mist was released into the air.

Duncan pounded on the door, begging to get out. But no one heard his cries. He pulled down the tapestry on the windows to see if anyone would see him through the windows. He tried breaking the windows, but the glass was tempered. He couldn't escape if he tried.

At that very moment, Duncan thought it was over. This was it. God, he didn't want to believe it, but it seemed to be true.

Soon, he began to feel weak. His legs felt numb. His screams were decreasing as he knew there would be no one to save him now ..

No one...

All was black....

.....

"He's out!" Said a voice from behind Duncan's limp, unconscious body. He was talking into a walkie talkie.

"Great to hear!" Said a man through the walkie talkie. The man behind Duncan began to worry.

"I-is he dead?" He asked.

"No, he's alive. He'll be out for awhile, though, which is a good thing." The man in the walkie talkie chuckled.

"What do you suppose we do with him, sir?" The first man asked.

"Bring him back to our place. The one down in Rotterdam! Make sure his phone isn't on him. Make sure no one can find him." The second man laughed. " But whatever you do, don't let anyone see you with him. Lave the house out the back door if you have to. If anyone sees you, shoot them. The word will spread fast enough that he's missing. If anyone finds us, we're dead."

"Got it." The man said. He picked up Duncan, still unconscious, and left the house through the back door.

Little did he know... There was someone watching it all happen. A witness...

Damiano David.