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After leaving the classroom for the day, I make my way to the grocery store with the intention of preparing a delicious meal for the girls and Dean tonight. The day has been going well, and my students have been actively participating in class lately, which brings me joy. Upon entering the grocery store, I decide on steak and potatoes for tonight's dinner. Once I have all my ingredients in hand, I head towards the cash register. Throughout my time in the store, I can't shake off a strange feeling, but I dismiss it as nothing significant. As I load my groceries into my car, I suddenly sense a…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
After leaving the classroom for the day, I make my way to the grocery store with the intention of preparing a delicious meal for the girls and Dean tonight. The day has been going well, and my students have been actively participating in class lately, which brings me joy. Upon entering the grocery store, I decide on steak and potatoes for tonight's dinner. Once I have all my ingredients in hand, I head towards the cash register. Throughout my time in the store, I can't shake off a strange feeling, but I dismiss it as nothing significant. As I load my groceries into my car, I suddenly sense a presence behind me. Before I can even turn around, I am unexpectedly struck from behind, then being forcefully thrown into someone else's vehicle. The men have concealed their faces with masks, making it impossible for me to recognize them. "Could someone please explain what's going on?" I inquire. In response, one of them tells me to 'shut the fuck up whore,' in a foreign language, instructing me to remain silent. We continue to travel for what seems like an eternity until the car eventually halts. The men then forcefully pull me out of the vehicle and lead me into a dungeon-like structure. Inside the dimly lit dungeon, fear grips me as I try to make sense of the situation. The air is heavy with a musty smell, and the sound of dripping water echoes through the cold stone walls. I can feel the rough texture of the walls against my fingertips as the men push me further into the depths of the structure. My heart races, and I struggle to keep my composure. "Please, I don't understand what's happening. Why am I here?" I plead, my voice trembling with a mix of confusion and fear. The men remain silent, their masked faces unreadable, as they continue to guide me deeper into the unknown.
Autorenporträt
Crystal Steadman is an American author. She is from a small town in Arkansas. She was born and raised in the country where you had the choices to read, write, or fight with your cousins. Most times you found her in her favorite tree reading one of her many favorite books by either Stephen King or Nora Roberts. Once she got a little older she started writing short stories but it wasn't until she was much older when she found her love for putting fantasy on paper.