77 HOURS

one

HOUR 1

    She could hear the sounds of rustling nearby. It was loud enough to know that either the person causing the noises, was either very close by, or the room they were in had no carpeting or soft objects. There was also a loud ringing, but she knew immediately it was just her who could hear it. She could smell blood and a slight scent of burnt flesh. There was also a candle lit somewhere in the room, too, floral and clean. She could feel the zip ties around her wrists and ankles along with the cold metal chains which accompanied them and wrapped around her mid-abdomen. Her skin stung on her left arm and her right ached deeply. The rest of her body was riddled with fresh bruises and cuts given to her earlier and she could feel every-single one. She couldn't see, though, and not because something was covering her eyes or anything. She just hadn't opened them yet. Allowing herself time to let her other senses take over in order to figure out where she might be before alerting her captor that she was awake, but she wasn't able to start guessing due to a familiar voice whispering her name. 

"Eight!" Her eyes shot open and landed on Six sitting tied to a chair just like hers. He seemed to relax slightly at the eye contact as if the reason he was calling her name was to see if she was dead or not. "Are you okay?" She now looked around her. They were alone in a large victorian styled room with high ceilings, detailing along the walls and large windows which let in plenty of sunlight to analyze every detail of her surroundings. "Eight." He called out once again impatiently. 

Eight rolled her eyes, "Never been better." Even though it was sarcastic, Six sighed in relief because she was in fact okay enough to deliver her famous attitude. He must've been the one making all that noise; probably trying to wiggle himself out of the restraints. She just sat still and glared at the man in front of her. "This is exactly how I wanted to spend my weekend-- if it still is the weekend-- tied to chair across from the man who managed to get us both kidnapped and ALSO stole my All Pink pack of Starbursts." 

"You're really still mad about those fucking starbursts?" He let his head roll to the side in annoyance. 

"Is that even a real question? Of course i'm still mad! They were all pink! Those are the best ones!" 

"We just got kidnapped-- which is not my fault-- and all you're worried about is god damn candy... I really shouldn't be surprised." 

"I can't even look at you right now--" She turned her head to the side, adverting her gaze but was cut off by the loud bang on the doors behind her and the a pair of footsteps walking swiftly towards her. 

"Look who's finally awake!" Another familiar voice hollered cheerfully as Lloyd Hansen, AKA the biggest douchebag the world has ever seen, made his way into view. "I was almost worried that this one," He leaned over Eight, letting his hand cup the back of her head, "wasn't gonna wake up at all!"

"Oh! Im so flattered!" She gave an obviously fake smile and leaned her head away from his touch. He smiled in his famously condescending way and stepped away from her, standing directly in between both agents. 

"And I especially missed you, Handsome." He bent over in front of Six. Although Lloyds strangely nice ass blocked her vision of Six, she could perfectly imagine the unreadable stare which was certainly plastered on his face right now. 

"How cute." Eight cooed. "But who are you, exactly?" Now that got Llyod's attention. He practically spun around to face her and held a hand to his chest.

"Now don't tell me that you don't remember?" He feigned hurt. She squinted, studying his face for a second before shaking her head apologetically. "C'mon now..." He tilted his head a bit, "You're breaking my heart, Doll-face."