#imanien

"You don't know that!" he snapped, tone sounding something like a whispered scream.

Imani shifted her weight on her knees, groaning when she couldn't manage herself into a more comfortable position. "I'm not just going to die in a grimy basement and I sure as hell aren't going to let you!"

She twisted and tried to steal a glance at him. With their hands bound together behind their backs and anchored to the ground, there wasn't much to do but lean on each other and hope for the best. The room was empty, dark, and smelt of rotting drywall. Bruises had started forming on her knees hours ago from kneeling on the cement floor, and hunger was eating away at her stomach. She wasn't planning on getting kidnapped again, but she still promised herself that if—when—they made it out, she would never wear shorts again.

Tien on the other hand, couldn't drag his thoughts away from the idea of death. He didn't want to die before he told his crush he liked her. He didn't want her to die before that moment either. His solution was to not tell her, because they wouldn't die before then. They couldn't. But still, the thought just wouldn't leave.

Eyes full of tears, chest constricting, mind fuzzy, he asked, "What if they kill us?"

"Will you stop saying that?"

"I'm serious, Mani. What if this is it?"

"We're not dying until I say we're dying."

"Can you say we're not dying?"

Imani, who had still been fighting against her restraints, settled down. She let her head fall back on his shoulder and took a deep breath. "We're not dying."

"Thanks."

"Did that help?"

"Honestly, yeah, a little bit." He shrugged, much to her discomfort. "You're usually right anyway."

"Let's hope I am this time too."

Approaching footsteps outside made them both jump. One second someone was fiddling with the lock, the next, light was pouring into the cramped space. A man came into Imani's line of sight, stepping in the way of her view of the other two behind him.

"What do you want this time?" she asked.

Twice there had been someone else in the room. Twice someone had checked the ropes before leaving without a word. There hadn't been others watching those times—or at least Imani hadn't seen them watching. The thought sent a chill down her spine.

The man bent down, a knife in hand that glinted in the light. He cut the ties between Imani and Tien's restraints, leaving both their hands still tied. He remained stuck to the floor while she was dragged to her feet. The man took tight hold of her arm, but she didn't make his job easy. She kicked and screamed and did everything in her power to get away.

Tien's eyes darted between the two. "What are you doing? Where are you taking her?"

"Tee, don't—"

"Somewhere you don't want to be," the man cut in.

That's when the true panic set in. The fear of being separated from Tien and dragged away. The fear of never seeing him again. The fear of a fate worse than death. It came quick, but in full force, like a bucket of ice poured over her head. It was heavy and made her shake, but it also sent a blaze through her, something that only made her fight harder.

She vaguely heard Tien begging from behind her. "Take me instead! Please!"

The man spun her around and stared down with dark, evil eyes. There was something clever and cunning in them that she didn't want to see.

"Don't make my job harder than it already is," he sneered.