Amelia trapped

Elliott disappeared with the man into the shadows of the warehouse. May stood there and watched the remaining men with anxiety crawling up her spine. The industrial smell of the place was suffocating. She barely had time to process before Elliott reemerged, his face pale. His calm confidence was gone. Without a word, he nodded to her and motioned for her to follow him. “This way,” he muttered. He led her down a narrow hallway toward a steel door.

May’s stomach twisted into knots. “What happened?” she whispered, but he didn’t answer. He just kept walking. The accented man followed behind them. When they reached the door, Elliott pushed it open, and May’s breath caught in her throat.

There, in the dim light of the back room, was Amelia. She was tied to a chair, her hands bound behind her, legs strapped to the legs of the chair with thick ropes. Her curly red hair was disheveled, and she was wearing nothing but a tank top and yoga shorts. A gag was tightly wrapped around her mouth. Her wide, terrified eyes locked onto May the moment she walked in.

May gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my God… Amelia.”

Elliott stepped back, avoiding her gaze. “They didn’t have a choice,” Elliott said, his voice low. “She freaked out. They had to… restrain her.” May could hardly breathe. Amelia looked horrified—angry, scared, confused. Her chest heaved as she tried to speak, the gag muffling her words. “I’ll be right back,” Elliott said, glancing nervously at the man. “We need to… negotiate.”

He turned to leave with the stranger, the door clicking shut behind them, leaving May alone with Amelia. The room was small, the walls lined with exposed brick and dusty shelves of forgotten equipment. A single flickering light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting eerie shadows over the scene.