The smell of stale air and old fabric filled my nostrils—it was dark, and the low rumble of the road told me I was in a moving trunk.
I took a deep breath, focusing on the cable ties. They could be broken, I realized, but I had to be quick. From the rough rumble and jolts, I could tell the car was driving over a bumpy, uneven road, and my time was running out.
With controlled breaths, I focused on the restraints, twisting and wrenching them until I felt the ties loosen just enough for me to pop them. I kicked at the rear lights, each strike jolting the car slightly. Finally, one light popped out, and the dust rushed in.
A pang of dread washed over me—the dust meant we were away from the city, in the middle of nowhere. I felt my heart stammer as panic set in. No time left. I braced myself, twisting and using a shard from the broken light to work the trunk's lock from the inside. But then, just as I felt a give in the lock, the car lurched to a stop, and my heart raced faster.
Before I could escape, hands seized me, pulling me from the trunk.
Rough ropes dug into my wrists, binding my arms tight as I was dragged forward, vision swallowed by the suffocating darkness of a thick sack over my head. The air turned heavy, oppressive, while unfamiliar hands gripped me, pushing me along with ruthless force. Beneath my feet, loose rocks crunched, hinting at a rugged, uneven terrain, and somewhere close, the low hum of car engines
Without warning, we stopped. Brutally, they shoved me down to my knees, sharp stones biting into my legs as they secured my ankles, leaving me immobilized.
The sack was yanked from my head, and I blinked against the blinding glare of headlights, their harsh beams casting an eerie light over the scene. Beside me knelt a row of men, each dressed in pristine white shirts, their heads covered with rough cloth sacks, silent figures in a surreal line-up.
Beyond them, shadows loomed, faceless under the dark. But one face emerged from the darkness: Armando. His gaze met mine, filled with silent dread, as if even he feared what was to come.
"Armando," I whispered, panic cracking my voice as he secured my wrists in place. "What's happening?"
"Stay quiet," he muttered, barely moving his lips. "Just... don't move."
