That One Kiss

𝟗. 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭.

As the darkness of night gave way to the faint light of dawn, Sahar and Isleen's minds raced with unanswered questions. They were trapped, confined to a space that seemed to grow smaller by the minute. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of their own ragged breathing. They had been taken, but why? What did their captor want from them? The uncertainty was suffocating, leaving them feeling helpless and vulnerable.

The girls' eyes met, their gazes locked in a silent understanding of their shared fear. But for now, they were prisoners, held captive by some unknown force, with no clear escape in sight.

Sahar's eyes filled with empathy as she gazed at Isleen's distraught face.
❝ I am parched sahar ❞ she whispered, her  throat parched and dry. The air was stifling, heavy with the scent of sweat and fear. Their bodies ached from the prolonged captivity, their backs protesting the hard, unforgiving surface they'd been forced to sit on for what felt like an eternity. Isleen's tears sparked a sense of desperation within Sahar.

❝ I'm parched too, Isleen,❞ Sahar croaked, her dry throat cracking with each word. ❝ My mouth feels like the desert. ❞ She licked her lips, hoping to moisten them, but her tongue felt like sandpaper.

❝ We need water, and soon, or we'll...we'll...❞ Sahar's voice trailed off, unable to vocalize the dire consequences that lurked in her mind. The thought of dehydration, of withering away in this dank, dark place, was a nightmare she couldn't shake.

❝ We have to find a way out of here, Isleen. We can't give up. ❞ But the words felt like a distant hope, a mirage on the horizon, as their bodies cried out for relief.

As the man entered with the glass of water, Isleen and Sahar's eyes widened with desperate hope. Their parched throats and dry lips seemed to scream for the refreshing liquid. But in a cruel twist, the man's smile grew sinister as he deliberately dropped the glass, shattering it on the floor mere inches from their outstretched hands. The sound of shattering glass was followed by Isleen's blood-curdling scream as a sharp fragment pierced her leg, blood welling up from the wound. Sahar's eyes went wide with horror as she watched in disbelief, her mind reeling with the man's malevolence.

❝ You monster ❞ she spat, her voice venomous with anger and fear. The man's laughter echoed through the room, a chilling sound that sent chills down their spines.

Sahar's face contorted in disgust and rage as she lunged forward, attempting to spit in the man's face. But her dry mouth could only manage a weak dribble, which fell short of its target. The man's eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement, his gaze roaming over her body like a predator sizing up prey.

❝ You would look stunning under
me. ❞ he repeated, his voice dripping with entitlement and menace. Sahar's skin crawled under his gaze, her mind recoiling from the implicit threat. She knew she had to keep him at bay, but her weakened state and the daunting surroundings made her feel trapped and vulnerable. With a snarl, she summoned all her strength and spat again, this time managing a feeble glob of saliva that landed on his shoe. The man's smile never wavered, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intent that made Sahar's blood run cold.

The sudden barrage of gunshots sent a jolt of shock through the room, making Sahar and Isleen's hearts race in unison. The man's smile faltered for a moment before he swiftly regained his composure and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound of locks clicking into place echoed through the silence, leaving the girls in a state of heightened anxiety. They exchanged a fearful glance, their minds racing with questions.

What was happening? Who was firing those shots? And, most importantly, would they be able to escape this nightmare? The darkness seemed to closing in around them, the only sound being Isleen's labored breathing and the muffled gunshots growing fainter in the distance. Sahar's thoughts were a jumbled mix of fear, hope, and desperation as she whispered to Isleen, ❝ This might be our chance...we have to try and get out of here! ❞

Sahar and Isleen struggled against the ropes that bound them, their desperation growing with each passing moment. The crash and gunshots grew louder, closer, and more intense, making it seem like the chaos was right outside their door. But despite their best efforts, the ropes refused to yield, digging deeper into their skin as they pulled and pulled. Sahar's wrists were raw and bleeding, her fingers numb from the pressure. Isleen's eyes were wide with fear, her face pale and clammy.

❝ We have to keep trying! ❞ Sahar gritted her teeth, her voice a hoarse whisper. ❝ We can't give up! ❞ But just as they redoubled their efforts, the door creaked open, and a figure loomed in the doorway, casting a long, ominous shadow on the floor.

Sahar's eyes squinted, trying to pierce through the dim light, her gaze fixed on the figure in the doorway. But the shadows seemed to swirl around her, obscuring her features. She blinked hard, her vision blurring momentarily from the strain. The wounds on her hands throbbed in protest, her body screaming for relief.

She gritted her teeth, her focus refusing to waver. Who was this person? Friend or foe? Her mind raced with questions, her heart pounding in her chest. But the figure remained shrouded in mystery, their identity hidden behind a veil of darkness. Sahar's frustration grew, her helplessness acute. She was trapped, injured, and at the mercy of this stranger. Would they prove to be her savior or her tormentor? Only time would tell.

As the figure stepped closer, Sahar's eyes widened, and she saw the outline of a young woman. Her features were still obscured by the shadows, but the soft curves of her face and the long strands of hair falling down her back gave away her gender. The woman's movements were swift and silent, her eyes fixed on Sahar and Isleen with a determined intensity. Sahar's heart raced with a mix of fear and hope, unsure what to make of this sudden turn of events. Was this woman a rescuer or a captor? Her eyes locked onto the woman's, searching for answers.

Isleen's eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, her face reddening with rage as she took in the sight of the woman standing before her. Her gaze was piercing, as if boring into the woman's soul, her anger and betrayal palpable in the air.  ❝ You! ❞ Isleen's voice was low and menacing, her tone dripping with venom.

❝ You're the one who's been holding us captive? ❞ The woman's expression remained calm, but a flicker of guilt danced in her eyes, betraying her composure. Sahar's eyes darted between the two, her mind racing with questions. What was the connection between Isleen and this woman? And how did it lead to their captivity? The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken secrets and unresolved conflicts.

Sahar's eyes snapped into focus, and her gaze locked onto the woman's face. Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth agape, as she whispered the name:
❝ Madelyn? ❞ The word was laced with venom, her tone a mix of disbelief, anger, and betrayal. Madelyn's expression faltered, her eyes flashing with guilt, as she took a step back, as if recoiling from Sahar's accusatory gaze. Isleen's eyes never left Madelyn's face, her own anger and resentment simmering just below the surface.

The air was heavy with tension, the silence between them deafening. Sahar's mind raced with questions, her thoughts reeling with the implications. Madelyn, her betrayer. The revelation was like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless and reeling.

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