A sharp cry broke me from my thoughts. Feet halting instinctively, my light raced around the space. There was no sight of what had made the noise. Cautiously, I took a step forward and then another. Finally, I realized what had caused the cry. Or rather, whom.
"Oh, my God." I raced forward. A figure sat on a bare metal chair. When I got closer, I could see ropes and wires wrapped around the person's ankles to the legs, thighs to the seat, and wrists behind the back of the chair. Unable to move anything but their head, groans and moans escaped the mouth of the person. It was difficult to distinguish anything. Perhaps they were my age, but they could have been significantly younger. A cloth pressed into their mouth and wrapped around their eyes prevented any features from showing. However, dark hair cascaded down their shoulders, and a small figure indicated a female.
Blue and purple bruises poked out on her arms and legs, lines of blood trailing from hidden wounds. She had been sitting here, completely in the dark for who knew how long before I had shown up. Hurt and entirely isolated.
My light glazed over the chair and the person tied to it, settling on a scrap of paper set on a lone stool beside the chair. Other than the chair and stool, there were no other big objects set within view. A glare of silver blinded me before I realized what the object was. Placed under the paper, a small pistol stared up at me expectantly.
"Don't worry," I told the girl, my eyes never leaving the pistol. "I'll get you out of here."
Unsure if she could even hear me over the painful groans, I picked up the paper, tentatively examining every inch before it slipped through my fingers. My heart stopped beating, fingers numb and cold. I stared at the girl.
Printed on the seemingly innocent piece of parchment were six little words. Six words with the power to control the outcome of my actions, change the course of history, and change my destiny and the girl's destiny forever.
"Kill the girl, or you die."
I stood silent, still as a statue for what seemed like endless minutes before the girl's groans brought me back. The tortured, hurt, bruised girl was most likely scared out of her mind, sitting tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse. What would I do if I were in her current position? Surrounded by the unknown, my fate in the hands of a stranger with a choice?
The quiet laugh that bubbled out of my lips was more frightening than the pistol set on the stool by my side. "You can't be serious," I yelled out into the darkness. Perhaps the man in the fedora was here, watching every movement, finger on a trigger if I made the wrong one. Somehow that only motivated me more to voice my thoughts.
"This girl played no part in my past; why should she be punished for my sins? Let her go and take me instead. Punish me. She's innocent!" The dark stared back at me, daring me to make another move.
I would make a move, but I needed to think. With the heart-wrenching sounds of pain coming from the girl to motivate me, I racked my brain for a plan. I needed to get both of us out of this building alive. And fast. The man could be around any bend, shrouded in the darkness just like he was at the restaurant. With a start, I remembered the speck of red on his shoes, trailing my eyes over the girl's body. Perhaps it really was dried-up blood.
If he was willing to hurt and bind up this girl for her innocence, what would he do to me if I were to untie her? Surely then, we would both die for my supposed heroism, and nothing truly good would come as a result.
Kill or be killed.
The girl had her whole life ahead of her, but what about me? There was never truly a time in my life where I felt complete, having lived my life to the fullest. My job was amazing indeed; however, my true dream was to travel the world. My life flashed before my eyes, happiest moments leading into the quiet, lonely days. I had so much more to live. So much more of myself to give and share with the world.
My gaze traveled back to the pistol, threatening to pull me into its deadly grasp. Fingers twitched by my side, but my feet stayed planted, humanity winning me over. This was not the right thing to do, and that was a dangerous risk I was fully willing to take. If I were to use the pistol, I would be no better than the man in the fedora.
"I won't give in to your twisted game. People are better than this. I am better than this!"
With a shove, the stool fell on its side, pistol flying out of my sight and away into the darkness. The sound echoed throughout the warehouse as I rushed for the girl. The binds held fast with each amount of tugging. Determination coursed through every nerve in my body, threatening to take over. The coarse rope and wires cut into my hands, drops of blood trailing towards the floor and collecting into a puddle at my feet. A yell escaped my mouth with one final tug, and the binds came loose around her thighs. Scrambling to untie her legs and then her arms, within agonizing minutes, the girl fell into my arms.
We sunk into an embrace. "I've got you, I've got you. You're safe now."
The girl quaked in my arms. Overwhelming tears flowed down both our faces. Quietly, slowly, she pulled away from me and slipped off the cloth from her mouth and eyes, giving me a glimpse of the girl hidden underneath. My whole body froze; breathing stopped as I took in her features. Gentle blue eyes gazed back at me, dark waves cascaded down her shoulders, pale skin the color of snow reflecting in the small light.
"Lindsey."
YOU ARE READING
A Shot in the Dark
Mystery / Thriller*ForeWarning* Depictions of death, loss, distress, and fear Despite the worry of her best friend and co-worker, Gabriella, a lowly waitress, realizes that her past has finally caught on to her. After a past colleague reaches out to her with a compel...
