Or, more accurately, get kidnapped by them (WHAT?!??!)

It takes a while more of walking around and not seeing anyone, to the point where you think that maybe they bussed home already. Oh, man, you hope that they didn't -- you don't want this looming over your head all weekend, that would be so terrible.

"Woa-mmf!"

All of a sudden, a pair of hands pins your arms to your side as a brown fabric sack is thrown over your head. Your entire vision goes black, as you try to wiggle your way out of their (way too tight to wiggle out of) grip. The inside of the sack smells, and it's really rough, so this doesn't feel nice at all!

"Wrong place to be, mate." You hear a female voice say cockily at your side, followed by the pop of cracking knuckles. "Still time to piss off."

Is she talking to you? If you just walked into something, you're totally okay with leaving! You try to tell them that, but the sack's been closed up around your neck a bit too tight to prove your jaw properly, and the hands holding you in place are still firmly gripped. You hear the faint shuffling of fabric a few steps behind you, then the light impact of something being dropped onto the floor.

"If any of you want the hurting to stop, I won't chase you." Cameron's voice says. Wait, Cameron said that? With that much conviction? You try to turn around to get a good look at the speaker, and you manage to, but also the sack is still on your head. Right after that your periphery is filled with the rushing sound of multiple heavy footfalls, from all directions, as a bunch of people apparently sprint around towards each other.

You can almost hear rushing wind, as the hands pinning your arms down lock them in place behind your back with a ziptie and the sound of several solid impacts fills the space, coupled with sounds of exertion and effort. The hands of two other people come up towards you, hoisting you up and into the air, where you suddenly realise that your ankles have been tied together over your school pants legs as well. Oh no!

"What's taking you, Charlotte? Just land something already!" An partially-panicked angry voice yells out. "You lot take her off! The rest of you, take him the fuck down!"

With the three people below you holding you up horizontally, you're steadily carried down the hallway, still tied up and blinded. You wiggle around, trying to make it as hard for them all as possible (you don't know what's happening, but you're pretty sure that these three people suck), but from your position and with three people supporting your body it doesn't do all that much. You've got to do better, you think!

Lifted high and marched down the hallway, the sound of quick but measured and elegant footsteps right beside you, you're carried further and further away from (what sounds like) an absolute brawl of heavy blows and cries.

"Owww!!"

"Hey, come on, don't- ghk!!"

"You girls are so useless! Just grab his arms, I'll-"

"KYAAAAHHH!!"

"I said, grab his- you know what, just let me handle him, I can-"

"Yeah, you were doing such a great job before, Charlotte."

"I CAN HANDLE HIM! If you're so - *ngh, woah* - **** to be useful, pants him or something!"

The number of actively participating voices is getting smaller, usually right after a particularly dense-sounding impact or the clatter of somebody crashing into the wall, but the sounds of getting hurt are also coming less frequently. Are things okay?! The distressed dialogue gets quieter and quieter as you're taken further and further away, wiggling futilely and "mmf!"ing to no avail.