Hopeless.

 

"We're not hurt.  We're all tied up.  They are holding us as hostages.  Unless you follow all of their orders, they will kill us."

Ryan stopped speaking.

He struggled as a ball gag was shoved into his mouth.

The screen went dark.

===================================

Rope.

Brandon was covered with rope.

Binding him to the chair. His forearms were roped together from elbows to his wrists.

His upper arms were tied to the top rung of the chair.

Ropes crisscrossed his torso, binding him to the chair.  His thighs were tied together and lashed to the seat of the chair.  His ankles were pulled apart and each one tied to one of the front legs of the chair.

He forced himself to move the inches he could to relieve the cramps from being forced to sit tied up.

He shook his head again to get the sweat off his face as his saliva dribbled from the ball gag soaking his shirt.

====================================

Justin kept flexing his upper arms, trying to loosen the ropes.  The coarse rough rope only tightened around his triceps, burning his skin and digging into his muscle.

He heaved his chest and tightened his gut.  Again, nothing.  Finally he drew upon all his strength, and  fought the ropes, only to flip the chair backwards, crashing on his tied arms.  He heard a crack.  Something broke.  Not the chair... it was all steel.  He realized he broke his arms and was too numb to feel it!

====================================

Their demands were met.

But they left us tied up, Justin with his broken arms.

Struggle as we did, there was no escape.

No food.

No water.

We pissed and shit on ourselves.

Waiting for death.

Hopeless.