My Pervert Kidnapper (UNDER REVISION)

My Pervert Kidnapper: Threat

I swayed to the music, letting my body move with the beat.

This... this is life.

Hanna handed me a shot of tequila, and we both laughed when she almost lost her balance.

"Thanks!" I downed the tequila in one go, then went straight back to dancing.

The dance floor was packed—of course it was. It was Sunday night at The Palace in BGC, and the place was alive. I glanced over at our table and saw Harumi, my Japanese friend, kissing her boyfriend. I rolled my eyes. Ugh. So cringe. I mean, we're still young—why settle so fast? Explore a little, diba?

They'd been together for years already. But whatever. Her boyfriend's kind naman, takes good care of her, and isn't strict about gala nights like this.
Me? Totally different story. I love my options, just like tonight. Fren, that famous varsity basketball player from our university, was staring at me while I danced.

"I think he's gonna kiss you tonight!" Hanna squealed over the music.

I stopped dancing and wrapped an arm around her. Then she handed me another shot of tequila. Diyos ko. I was already feeling tipsy, and it was still early.

"I'll make him chase me first," I smirked. "Hey, you're getting me drunk. I'm still supposed to drive you home!"

She leaned in, about to whisper something. "Someone's driving me," she said with a grin. "So... bye, my friend."

"What?" I blinked, confused, just watching as she disappeared into the crowd.

The place started to feel warmer, so I left the dance floor. When I saw Harumi and her boyfriend still all over each other at our table, I just sighed and headed to the bathroom to retouch my makeup.

The line for the bathroom was ridiculously long. Ano ba 'yan, ihing-ihi na ako. I pulled out my phone and mindlessly scrolled through social media to pass the time. A few familiar names popped up, mutuals posting stories from the same club. I tapped like on a couple, then locked my phone.

Almost immediately, it buzzed again.

An unknown number.

Unknown:
You look good tonight.

I let out a small chuckle. Seriously, who is this? I was about to reply when another message came through.

Unknown:
But how would it feel if your parents saw you lifeless?

My smile vanished. My eyes widened as I looked around. People everywhere. Loud music. Nothing suspicious. No one staring at me—at least, not obviously. I sighed. Damn it. Who would even joke about something like that?

Me:
Stop the prank. It's not funny.

A reply came almost instantly.

Unknown:
Then we'll see. Enjoy the rest of the moment, because tonight, you will die.

I swallowed hard, then forced myself to lock the phone. It had to be a prank. It had to be. I mean, who would hurt me? My parents' security was around—even if I hated it, they were somewhere nearby. I should really ask my parents to make them less obvious. Being followed everywhere was already weird enough.

When it was finally my turn, I went into the comfort room and retouched my makeup, trying to calm my nerves. My reflection looked normal—maybe a little tipsy, but fine. Then I heard shouting outside. Some kind of commotion. I rolled my eyes. Another fight, probably. Usual stuff in this place. I fixed my lipstick one last time and stepped out of the comfort room.

"Hanna?"

My heart dropped. She was on the floor, completely still. My brain refused to process it at first. Maybe she slipped? Maybe she drank too much? But no. Something about her body, the way she wasn't moving at all... it felt wrong.

Then I saw him.

A man stood beside her, calm and unhurried, a gun loosely gripped in his hand.

This isn't real. This can't be happening!

The world seemed to mute around me. The music, the voices, the flashing lights, everything faded as he lifted the gun. Straight at me. I'm going to die. Am I? Not like this. Not here. My legs wouldn't move. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. My chest burned, my breath shallow and useless.

Then a strong arms wrapped around me from behind.

"Who the fuck are you?!" I shouted.

Something cold pressed against my face. A cloth. Instinct kicked in and I tried to pull away, but my body felt weak, sluggish. The smell hit me, suffocating. What is that? I can't... breathe. My thoughts started slipping, like sand through my fingers.

The lights blurred. The sounds became distant, like I was underwater. My legs gave out completely, and I felt myself being pulled somewhere—away from the noise, away from the crowd.

I shouldn't have ignored the messages.

I shouldn't have come out tonight.

The last thing I felt was the steady pounding of my own heart—slowing, fading—until everything went black.