Kidnapped

The unforgiving rain beat against my coat as I hurried home from a late-night school club. Spears of lightning illuminated the footpath, guiding my weary steps. My phone screen glowed, revealing the time: 7:20 PM. Damn, I was late.

Approaching my house, an unsettling silence hung in the air. All the lights were out, an unusual sight for my parents. Shaking off a growing unease, I fumbled for my key, the silverware glinting in a flash of lightning. I unlocked the door, slipping inside the dark, quiet house.

“Mother? Father?” My voice echoed, swallowed by the oppressive silence. No response. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I shed my drenched coat and shoes, the warm air a stark contrast to the chill outside.

My hand trembled as I flicked the kitchen light switch. It flickered on, revealing a small note on the counter. Curiosity warred with fear. As I leaned closer to read it, a deafening crash erupted from the living room. What was going on?

The noise sounded again. Heart pounding, I cautiously crept towards the living room, flicking on the light. Papers, my father's papers, lay scattered across the floor. They had been on the middle shelf. Someone was here.

My heart hammered as I backed into the kitchen, my eyes glued to the note. My breath hitched as I finally read the chilling message: “You're Mine, Leila.”

I spun around. A tall, dark figure loomed over me, a knife glinting in his hand. I screamed, trying to push past him, but his grip was too strong. He grabbed my hair, delivering a brutal fist to my waist. I crumpled, whimpering in pain as his shadow enveloped me. Another punch landed on my head, and the world dissolved into a blinding spray of white dots before darkness consumed me.