Jan 6

In an attempt to save her skin, Alaya spread her legs wide and tried to break her heels against the metal slide in order to stop her downward descent. It did not work. Instead, her journey came to a frightening end when oshe came ut of the tube but thankfully safely landed on a large blow-up in a glass-enclosed room.

She heavily landed sinking deep within the tremendous cushion. She wasn’t suffering from a concussion, but she wasn’t quite herself either. Still, in a panic, and clearly off balance, she fumbled around neurotically fighting her way through until she came to a halt. Slowly she began to move about its unsteady surface until she managed to find and fall from its edges and landed on the floor.

“Are you done yet?” A voice called out from behind the glass.

Alaya compulsively reached to her left for her handgun, only to find it wasn’t there. She had forcibly complied and left it behind in the car. Running along the sides of the large furniture, with her back turned to it and down in a crouching position, she began to demand answers.

“Where am I?” She shouted. “Show yourself!”

The glass door opened and in walked a man. “Calm down,” he started as he approached, “no one here will harm you.”

Her arched position slowly stiffened to stand straight up. She looked up to see who it was and became mildly at ease. The face was familiar, yes, but where she was being kept certainly was not.

“Where am I?” She asked.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot disclose that information to you just yet. For now, all you need to know is that you are safe.”He stretched forth his hand to lure her from the dark.“And more importantly, don’t forget why you are here.”He continued.

Her eyes suddenly lit with a wary smile of submission. “I haven’t.” She responded nervously. “I will do anything I can in order to save Nick.”

Mr. Bishop smiled cockily then stepped off audaciously for her to follow. “You say you love my son huh?” He smirked.

“Prove it.”

JAN6

Aplelemus – GOVT FAC Room 17D

Slummed shoulder and decked in a perpetuated glum state, his head felt like bricks upon a tiny pillar. Mr. Lu sat still. It was inopportune that his only son would have found himself locked up in prison at such an inconvenient time. The shipment was sent to the prison, and everything was now in place. All he could do now was wait for a call.

The horrific pain he felt was unspeakable for that of any man, nevertheless, a father. He opened his desk drawer and slipped out a chain with a cross on it. He held it up against his forehead, prostrated himself from within his chair and then began to pray.

Is this the grand design? Is this what was meant to be? How could he let this happen?

The frustration and anguish filled his glands and the metal squished noisily against his slippery palms.

“Please…” he pleaded. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I’ve sacrificed everything. Please, I beseech thee….

Don’t take my son!”