“What is that?” uttered Ronald.
Gray saw him standing up as well as Colleen. His head turned around, looking for the source of the sound. “Whose phone is that?”
The men began tilting their heads and checking their phones.
“Not mine,” said one man.
“Not mine either,” responded another.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” thought Gray and abruptly hit the power off button of her phone in panic without looking at the caller. When she peeked back at them, Ronald was still suspicious. She laid flat on the floor. She could feel the beating of her heart rising to her throat. She glanced at the door she entered from. If things go south, that was her only escape plan.
“Is someone else here?” Ronald
The nail on my pinky finger broke and it hurt so bad already. Gray just wounded her leg and hit the other one. She must have felt like dying, right? By the way, have you ever eaten a food that dropped on the floor, too? You have, haven't you?
Zia Scott eyed the man guarding the room as he disappeared past the corner of the tunnel-like path. She scanned the area. There were rusty pipes clustered together on all corners of the room, crawling all the way up the high ceiling. The room was dimly lit, not because there were dim lights but because only about 2 to 3 bulbs were working. Some bulbs were eerily flickering as if fighting to fulfill their job while other sockets were already missing bulbs. Staring at the ceiling, it felt like a horror movie. There were no windows. The only entryway was the one path in front of her, the tunnel. And she was curious. Curious as to what laid beyond the tunnel. She looked down on the concrete floor, staring at the dust on her shoes. “Is this an abandoned factory?” she thought to herself. “There’s about a hundred and thirty-four abandoned factories in the city though.” She glanced back at the pipes on the walls.
“Hey!” Gray Stewart abruptly ducked right under where Disgustington was standing. Luckily, since the lights were dimmed, he was unable to notice her. Disgustington, on the other hand, abruptly zipped his zippers up and caught himself. “Fuck!” he yelped. While he was still preoccupied with his own problem, Gray took this opportunity to hide among the machinery, stealthily crawling her way in. She didn’t even bother to check who it was that shouted earlier. Whether the “hey” was directed at her or not, she would find out in a few seconds. Hiding herself behind the machines, she heard approaching steps. “What the hell are you doing, leaving your post?!” a man said furiously. He
“The mommies on the bus say shush, shush, shush,” sang Zia Scott along with the other kids, swaying their bodies back and forth harmoniously. “Shush, shush, shush. Shush, shush, shush.” “The mommies on the bus say shush, shush, shush,” they all sang in chorus. “All through the tooooown. Yeaheeeeey!” The kids became hyped and enthusiastic as the song ended. They were unable to clap their hands nor jump in joy; however, their gleefulness was expressed through their wide grin and crescent shaped eyes. Zia’s attention was shifted to the approaching heavy footsteps, and her eyes guarded the tunnel. And as she suspected, it was the man who was keeping watch of them coming back. When she saw him walk in, she noticed the pinkish color of his right cheek. His steps were heavy and noisy
Gray Stewart silently listened in on the two men’s conversation beyond the other side of the room, kneeling on the floor with her right ear planted on the door. “I thought they’d be coming tomorrow?” said a man with a hoarse voice. “That’s what I thought too,” intoned another man with a deep voice. “We’d get our money early then.” The hoarse-voiced man snickered. “I don’t know, man.” The deep-voiced man seemed hesitant with his words. “What?” “I got a kid, man. She means the world to me. I’m not really on board with this trafficking thing.” “Oh?” thought Gray to herself. And while listening in on them, she named the hoarse-voice man Evil and the other man Half-evil. Evil sneered. “You gettin’ cold feet now? We smuggled drugs and bombs, robbed banks, counterfeited and laundered money. We even trafficked women before. You still tryna be a saint, man?” “Man, a bachelor like you will never understand me. I have a fa
Gray Stewart studied Evil and after ascertaining his sincerity, she decided to trust him. She tucked the pendant inside her jeans’ front pocket. “This is what we’ll do,” she started. “You’ll have to---” Gray’s sentence was interrupted when they heard approaching footsteps. Realizing that she was out in the open, she reached for the door and hid once again on the other side of the room. She locked the door and listened intently with bated breath. “What are you still doing here? I told you to get rid of it already.” It was Ronald’s voice. “Are you that stupid, huh? Can’t you do one simple order?” His voice rose, almost shouting. THUD! Gray jolted as a thudding sound hit the door.
Gray Stewart’s complexion turned pale as her eyes met Fakey McBaldy. Likewise, he was also just as surprised when he saw her. “T-there’s someone here!” he shouted, pointing his trembling hand to her. While he was still under confusion, Gray pulled out her stuck foot so hard, her shoe fell off. With one less shoe, she squeezed her body out of the set of tanks and sprinted on the side aisle. She had only one way to go; the door. As she sprinted without looking back, she could hear clamoring and the breaking of bottles, as well as vehement footsteps. “Catch her! Shoot! Faster!” were the words she could pick up in the middle of escaping. Almost reaching the knob of the door, she heard a gunshot promptly followed by a hole on
BANG! BANG! BANG! The children held captive together with Zia Scott had started throwing a fuss to the series of gunfire heard from beyond the tunnel. “You stay here. Guard the kids,” said a man with a strange mohawk hairstyle and went away. “What is happening outside?” thought Zia to herself. “Nooooo! So noisyyyyy! Mommyyyyy!” cried a little boy behind her. “I’m scaaaaared! Dadddddyyyyy!” bawled another one. “Shut the fuck up!” roared the guard seated on his chair with the gun on his hand, resting on his lap. Zia anxiously glanced at him who seemed to have tightened his grip on the gun. She looked behind her.
“Are you lost, darling?” Even though Gray Stewart could not see the face of the person behind her due to the utter darkness embracing the room, she was certain as to whom the voice belonged to. It was Undertaker’s. Winter was still a few weeks away, but her body was already frozen. There was adequate air for her to breathe in, but she felt suffocated. It was dark, but she could clearly see death waving its hand toward her. It took a few seconds for her horrified bones to finally move. However, as she attempted to move, he had already gripped on her wrist. “Fuck,” she thought to herself as she looked behind her, to her wrist who had been caught by a shark’s mouth. His long nails were slowly drilling deep into her skin. Her face contorted as she silently whimpered.