Exploit | J•G

8.5

Amber's P.O.V

I'm awoken by the sound of someone banging loudly against the locked door. I stir myself awake before darting my attention over to the area as confusion and fear seeps back into me at once.

                     "Five minutes!" A deep voice yells from the other side.

Five minutes?

Five minutes until what?

I quickly sit myself up against the mattress before wiping the sleep out of my eyes and standing to my feet. I look around the lifeless room as I long for some type of window or display to the outside world.

It feels like it's been forever since I last saw the sun, I can't believe I ever took it for granted.

           My hands bring themselves up to my temples before slightly rubbing the area in order to alleviate the lingering headache that I've had for the past few days now.

They can't keep me here forever.

Once jack figures out that I'm telling the truth he has to get me out of this place.

I'll lose the rest of my sanity if I don't escape soon.

I push myself off of the firm bedding as my feet begin to trudge against the rough carpeting. As I bring myself to my new closet area, my eyes immediately scan the clothing selection that Vittoria brought for me yesterday. I look over at the different bland options of clothing before settling on the pair of leggings and a sweatshirt.

Slowly I begin to remove my current layers of clothing, seeing the different faint bruises scattered across my body as I change into the new outfit. I make sure to keep my tank top on, using it as a sense of undergarment as I slip on the grey sweatshirt. Once I was fully clothed my eyes flicker down to the sweatshirt, causing me to notice a set of blue numbers written on the front of the grey material.

1172

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I look down at the numbers, having me feel slightly uneasy.

What do these numbers mean?

My hands bring themselves up to the other set of clothing, having me push through each material to see the same set of numbers embroidered into all of the pieces.

What the fuck?

Why would they have this on all of the new clothes that they brought me?

Is this the number they've assigned to me?

Is this how many people they have being held captive here?

Is this all I am now? A set of numbers?

                The sound of someone fidgeting with the locks from the outside catches my attention. A deep and anxious feeling wells up in my chest as I quickly fix my disheveled clothing before removing myself from the cramped space.

As I step out of the closet and into the small walkway, the door then opens in order to reveal a tall guard wearing a black ski mask. My heart skips a beat as I begin to feel small and insignificant standing before him.

He looks down at me before lifting up a pair of silver handcuffs while keeping the door propped open with his foot. I quickly glance behind him, allowing me to see a few guards scattered down the halls while standing in front of different doors.