Held to Ransom

Held to Ransom Alone and seemingly lost, I was heading down the street unaware of my destination. There was an elderly lady standing beside me, who, with immense concern, asked me “Where are you going?” I replied “I’m going for a stroll.” The sight of other people roaming the streets comforted me and gave me a sense of security. A colorful, vivid, neon sign reading “Game Lounge” just across the street took my heed, and intrigued me to go inside. As I began walking I fell headlong onto the sidewalk, and was knocked out senseless. I felt cold chills running through my body as my soul went on an astral travel. My thrill was about to be replaced with terror.
A masked man wearing black, tattered clothing quietly crept behind me and harshly covered my mouth. He gripped my phone and shoved me into the passenger seat of his little, drab colored car. The interior reeked of a marijuana scent which began to flare up my allergies. I was far too petrified to say anything, or to even cough. I just sat there. He drove about twenty miles far, and then turned though this narrow, murky corner where he finally stopped. He stepped out of the car, and immediately after, he took me out, and slammed the door shut. I became overwhelmed with wonder, but still I said nothing. He fiercely grasped my arm and took me into this apparently abandoned house, which was the only house around. It was a gruesome place where every floor board creaked. The atmosphere filled with the voice of a hundred tortured souls and the shadows devoured even the brightest light. With a frayed, threadbare rope he tied me to a black, shabby, wooden chair which was the only piece of furniture in the isolated building. Immediately after, my phone began to ring. It was my mother. He answered, and before she had the chance to speak, he said “Either you’re going to come up with three million dollars in twenty-four hours, or she’s dead” and bashed the phone against the wall, shattering it to bits. I shook with fear.