Still the champ…

It’s some sort of a warehouse. At least the boxes would imply that. No sounds can be heard, other than her labored breathing through the gag in her mouth, as she comes to. Her eyes are darting around. Looking for someone. Her head moves frantically, but the chair she’s taped to is not budging. She can feel her heart racing and adrenaline pumping through her veins. She knows that’s the body’s last try to get her out of this. But she’s not hopeful.

Where did he go?

She calms herself, tries to wiggle her arms, but feels the constraints tightening as she tries to pull her hands out of the tape. She senses movement out of the corner of her eye. He’s there. Moves closely in to view. A mad man, with a wide grin. Looking down on her. Holding a hammer. Is this how she goes?

He’s wearing denims and a tank top. The white shirt is almost completely black from dirt and blood. The pants seem to be held together with the same tape that was used to tape her to the chair and covered in grease. As she’s observing him, she tries to move her feet. Ankles taped to the legs of the chair. She expected that much. Not much has been left to chance.

As she contemplates the last moments of her life, the man starts to talk to someone. Spreading his arms wide and muttering something to someone that is, by the looks of it, sitting in the rafters. She tries to raise her head, but sees nothing.

He paces around her, throwing the hammer from one hand to the other, muttering all the time.

As she relaxes her whole body, in expectancy of what’s to come, she feels something slip down her right wrist. It’s not a knife. It can’t be. But it’s almost as good. It’s her bracelet. Small silver thing with those little charms attached to them. And one of them is a star. A pointy little star. The thing she put on this morning before heading out to work, and obviously did not take off when she got there, just might give her a fighting chance.

Although she might get fined at work for not removing jewellery.

Focus. She needs to focus. Trying to buy time, she mutters something through her gag. The man stops and mockingly puts a hand to his ear, while his swinging the hammer around in his other hand. He’s coming closer, she’s panicking but is working away at the tape with the star. She just needs to crack it before he cracks her.

He’s swinging the hammer faster, in an almost cartoonish manner, as he inches towards her.

Feeling the crack in the tape, she puts all her might into a strong jerk, just as he’s within arms reach of her. Her hands are free. She lunges towards him, which is easier said than done when you’re taped to the legs of the chair too. But the utter shock paralyzes him just long enough for her to fall on him.

She headbutts him, breaking his nose, covered in blood, they both fall to the floor. The chair still attached to her. She pushes herself up before he comes to, and smashes him repeatedly over his head with both her fists.

He’s out of it. She knows he is. Rolling over, the chair makes a loud thud in the empty space. Clumsily, she releases one leg, and then the other. Looks about and sees a door. A small one, leading probably into the interior of the warehouse. She lunges towards it, a grin of her own showing through the blood.

She enters a weird room that looks like the main security for the warehouse with dozens of monitors spaced around, all streaming imagery from the warehouse. Throwing a glance, she sees that her “friend” is stirring. She needs to hurry.

She yells out: “Throw me the nails, I’ve already got the hammer!”. Turning around, she checks in with Matt from streaming. “What are the viewer numbers?”

“Through the roof! Give them a bit more time, people are picking up that something big has happened.” Matt says with a grin.

People like to grin here. It’s that sort of a job.

“Roll an ad, let’s cash in” she says as she walks back towards the warehouse.

Still the champ…don’t you doubt it.