Intro

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She breathed laboriously onto the soft fabric that was shoved inside her mouth and held there by silver tape.

Breathing was the only thing she could control. The only thing he allowed. She couldn't see, she couldn't move, she couldn't speak. Being tied to a chair in a basement of a psycho's house was not how she intended on spending her Saturday night, but she didn't have much of a choice now.

She knew she was going to die and no one would miss her, no one would even know she had gone. She had no one in this world. In a strange way this made her feel relieved. Amra had always known someday she would die, either by a stranger's hands or her own risky behavior, and she had accepted that.

The sound of heavy steps could be heard descending to the basement, where she sat awaiting her fate, but nothing could be heard after that. It was silent, but she knew he was there, watching her.

𓆰𓆪

EARLIER

Her heels echoed down the street as she quickly made her way home. The sun was no longer visible and with it it took its warmth. The thin gray cardigan was not suitable for this weather. All she had underneath it was a plain short sleeve white v-neck shirt. Her tight blue jeans made it hard for her to walk any faster. 

She knew it was not safe to be out at this time of night, but she needed her drug. She patted her jean pocket every so often to make sure it was still there.

Darkness had caught up to her. The street lights turned on and the breeze picked up. She clutched the sides of her cardigan bringing them closer to her core. Her long black curls flowed wildly around her face. 

Amra was almost home. Soon she'd be turning into the safety of her familiar neighborhood and out the street.

Some cars whizzed by. Most of the businesses to her side had closed, except for the local bar and a couple restaurants at the end of the street, but it was eerily quiet.

"Almost home." She assured herself.

She passed the car dealership and just as she was about to cross the alleyway next to it, she saw a shadow move in the dark.

'Run Amra! Do not look just run!' her instincts yelled. A red flag went up in her head, so she decided not to investigate or make anything of it.

It was probably just a cat or a harmless homeless man, she thought as her paced quickened.

"Wrong." A gruff unknown male voice spoke from the shadows.

She hadn't seen who said that, but it was enough for the fear of his voice to paralyze her in that standing spot. She couldn't walk, her body was trembling no longer by the cold but by horror, and her breathing had seemed to stop.

Fear could do many things to people. The lucky ones were able to respond, to run, to fight back. The unlucky, like her, froze, could not speak, scream, run, or fight back.

She was vulnerable. 

The only adrenaline that kicked in for Amra, was a small amount that allowed her just enough movement to turn her head in the direction of that spine-tingling voice.  As she searched the dark alleyway she saw no one, and for a brief moment, she thought her imagination had been the culprit of the voice.

"Wrong again, darling." That guttural and unearthly voice spoke again.

This time she was able to spin around just in time to see who it could be, but immediately her eyes landed on his frightening black orbs. There was no color in those eyes.

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