Mariya
The fuckers bandage the gunshot wound to my leg so I won't bleed out on them while they torture me.
Just fucking great.
No matter how I brace myself, I'm not ready to lose any body parts.
My mind is flooded with panic and pain, making it hard to
try and come up with an escape plan. You just need to find a way to buy time until your family comes for you. They'll check the tracking device and see
where you are.
The only thing I have going for me is that they once again
didn't restrain me. They probably think I can't do anything,
because of the wound to my left leg.
The fucker in charge gestures to two other men who joined us while I was unconscious, and they come to haul me to my feet. My body screams with agony, but all I can do is groan.
I'm dragged to a chair and shoved into it, then a wooden table is pushed in front of me. I almost slump over it, but manage to keep myself sitting in the chair.
A drilling sound makes every inch of my skin go numb with pins and needles.
My eyes lock on the fucker in charge as he grins at me, holding a cordless drill in his hand.
I'm not going to walk out of here alive.