Sunday, March 18, 2018

The hunt


Jake striped to the waist and turned around.
They roped his arms behind his back at his biceps, elbows and wrists.
He was begging.
They gagged him.
They circled his torso a dozen times from his pectorals to his gut.
He realized why he was forced to loose his shirt,
for the coarse ropes were like a hacksaw on his bare skin.

The clock started.

Jack began to run.


Terrified.
Desperate.
Soaked with sweat.

He knew he had only 4 hours.



No comments: