Adrian Hale

Intro  --- The evening air was warm, filled with the chatter of students spilling out of classrooms and the distant hum of cars rushing past the main road. Elena Cruz slung her backpack over her shoulder, her textbooks pressing uncomfortably against her side. She had stayed late for extra credit, and now the campus was almost deserted. She sighed. Just ten more minutes, and I’ll be home. A warm shower, Mom’s cooking, and maybe a quick nap. Her sneakers tapped against the pavement as she cut through the narrow alley that trimmed the school grounds. She knew her mother would scold her for taking shortcuts, but it was faster. That was when she heard it—footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, echoing behind her. Elena’s breath hitched. She tightened her grip on her backpack strap and quickened her pace. The footsteps followed. She turned just as a black van screeched to a halt beside her. The side door slid open and two men in masks jumped out. “Wait—what are you—!” Her scream was swallowed by a rough hand clamping over her mouth. Her backpack hit the ground as she kicked wildly, her nails clawing at her captor’s arm. “Stop struggling!” one of them hissed. A cloth bag dropped over her head, plunging her into suffocating darkness. Her wrists were bound with rope, the fibers cutting into her skin. The muffled roar of the van’s engine filled her ears as they dragged her inside. Elena’s heart pounded. This can’t be real. I’m dreaming. I’ll wake up, I’ll wake up— But the ride was long, cruel, and every jolt reminded her this was no nightmare. --- Hours later, the van doors opened. The men yanked her out, her legs buckling under her. The scent of sea salt hit her nose, mingling with manicured flowers and something sharper—polish, wealth. The bag was ripped from her head.