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Excesmyr
Guest
Original poster
Issac wondered how it all came to this. He was being dragged away to some gang. It all happened so fast. One minute he was resting at home alone, his parents away on some business, the next the window breaks and some thugs in masks come in and tear the place up. They looked to be looking for something. When they broke in he hadn't the slightest idea of what to do. He did what felt right and hid in his closet. He had come from a well off family, raised with a silver spoon and went to a private school. There was no way he could fight any of those thugs off, especially with him cornered in his closet.
Obviously, they found him on their rampage through the house. It was only a matter of time. As he stared at them, their faces hardened and menacing, the look on their faces was as shocked as he was. They looked to be cold hardened criminals and no stranger to killing, but it was odd that they didn't off him on the spot. Instead they grabbed him and hauled him away to their van. They placed a bag over his head that had muffled some of the outside sounds. All he could hear was some quiet chatter. The voices sounded surprised and shocked. He couldn't hear much from the back of the van.
They drove for what seemed like days until they had stopped somewhere, in what he presumed, to be the ghetto. The sounds and smell of the poor dwelling in the area gave it away. He was pushed and prodded along an unmaintained walkway to an interior of some building. He assumed that this was their hideout.
They ripped off his hood and to his surprise, sitting on a chair that implied a sense of importance, a girl that bore a striking resemblance to him
Obviously, they found him on their rampage through the house. It was only a matter of time. As he stared at them, their faces hardened and menacing, the look on their faces was as shocked as he was. They looked to be cold hardened criminals and no stranger to killing, but it was odd that they didn't off him on the spot. Instead they grabbed him and hauled him away to their van. They placed a bag over his head that had muffled some of the outside sounds. All he could hear was some quiet chatter. The voices sounded surprised and shocked. He couldn't hear much from the back of the van.
They drove for what seemed like days until they had stopped somewhere, in what he presumed, to be the ghetto. The sounds and smell of the poor dwelling in the area gave it away. He was pushed and prodded along an unmaintained walkway to an interior of some building. He assumed that this was their hideout.
They ripped off his hood and to his surprise, sitting on a chair that implied a sense of importance, a girl that bore a striking resemblance to him