Sitting closer to the large window panes of the facade, Lydia is immersed deep within her own world; focused on the task at hand as she enjoys the soothing sounds of Beethoven blurting out of her headphones. So peaceful one could hear a needle drop to the floor. The beige-suited lady glances at the digital clock on the wall, it’s past midnight and there is still work to be finished. Had it not been for the importance of tomorrow’s meeting with the board of directors, Lydia would have gone home. But her determination to perform to her boss’ high standards kept her going through the late hours of the night.
Lydia taps the pages with the tip of her pen, as loose strands of hair fall upon her face. She dangles the high heels she had been wearing for the whole day, trying to find some comfort in the office chair. The office’s diaphanous nature and bright lights contrasted heavily with the darkness of the hallway leading up to it. The space between the office and the elevator shafts seemed cavernous. Her work was put to a stop as she heard faint noises coming from within said hallway. She stopped, nearly dropping the pen, and looked back. The woman quickly attributed the noise to the erratic heating unit, which was not strange to unusual sounds even during the day. She put her headphones back on but no sooner had she resumed working than she heard a second faint noise, quickly followed by a third. This startled the young lady, who pressed the pause button on her walkman and gently removed her headphones one more time. As hard as she tried, the only sound she could hear was the hum in the background.
The woman got up from her chair, leaving her beige blazer as well as the rest of her belongings behind, and made her way across the office to inspect the corridor. With a good view of the darkened hallway, she glanced in relief. But suddenly, a gloved hand summoned from the shadows. Lydia felt the weight of her body being shoved backwards as whoever was behind her gained a firm grip. Her fingernails scraped the gloved hand as it was pressed against her mouth to no avail, clamping her lips shut. Lydia started elbowing and thrusting in place as the assailant hoisted her body upwards with all his strength. Her puerile attempts were no match for the captor’s strength, shifting her body as she pleased.
Lydia focused her efforts and her survival instincts kicked in. With a rush of sheer adrenaline, the woman stomped her heels against the assailant’s foot with all her strength. The masked miscreant grunted loudly, distracting him enough to grant Lydia enough slack to make a break. The woman rushed to one of the desks in as hastily a manner as humanly possible. Such was the rush that she had dropped one of her heels to the ground, and tripped over falling ungracefully to the shiny floor. This gave the assailant enough time to recover from the blow and soon chased the desperate woman. Right as Lydia reached for one of the telephones, the captor’s relentless gloved hand was once again pressed against her lips, sealing them shut. The man clutched his arms against her and shoved her away from the phone. The sheer force had made the young accountant drop the telephone, with was now dangling from the edge of the table. Lydia jolted her body as it was lifted, dropping the remaining shoe. As the man hugged her body Lydia shrieked, in hopes that perhaps someone on the other end line might attend her pleas for help. But since no number was dialled up, her visceral screams were to no avail…
Under the command of the mysterious figure, Lydia was forced to the floor with her arms pinned against her back. Her cheeks hugged the cold floor as the pressure applied by her assailant became unbearable. Any attempts at negotiation were hastily deterred by an authoritative voice that urged her to remain silent. Lydia could both feel and hear her assailant fiddling with one of his large pockets. Once the ripping sound of tape unzipping filled the office, the young woman feared the worst…
MEANWHILE, ACROSS THE STREET…
In one of the rooms at the Marriott, a nightmare violently the peaceful slumber of Amber. She woke up in the middle of the night, pale and breaking cold sweat from whatever horrid reveries she might have had. She gently pushed the bedsheets aside as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her husband was feigning slumber and could therefore hear her wife shifting positions. Amber held the palm of her hands to her eyes, giving each one of them a gentle rub. Coming to her senses she treaded her bare feet against the carpet as silently as possible, making her way to the bathroom. The lights went on, and Amber grabbed one of the glasses and filled it up with water. When she reemerged from the bathroom, her husband too was awake:
“You all right?” – he inquired, with a drowsy voice.
“Yeah, it’s nothing… Just a bad dream I guess.” – Amber responded visibly frustrated
Her husband rolled in the empty bed as the sleepy woman made her way to the edge of the bed once again, sitting down and sipping profusely. Her eyes scanned the majestic skyline as it got lost in the distance, her attention was then brought to the building right across the street. The tower lay in pitch-black darkness, except for one of the offices. Flinching her eyes, she recognises the silhouette of a young woman sitting on the desk, going about her late-night duties. Minutes tick by nearing midnight, and Amber’s husband is fast asleep letting out the occasional snore.
Suddenly the suited woman’s figure disappears from Amber’s view as she got up from the chair. Amber initially thought nothing of it, until she reemerged… Amber’s eyes opened wide as she witnessed the nondescript silhouette of a man draped in black clothes, pinning her to the ground. She watched in horror and feared the worst when the assailant reached for his pocket. From her perspective, she could not decipher the details, but some sort of bond was being applied to her legs and feet, and presumably to her mouth as well. Amber remained petrified for an instant, she then poked her husband waking him up.
“What’s wrong honey, why don’t you go back to sleep?” – he said in a deeper voice this time
“John look, there. She is being attacked.” – Amber held her finger to the window and pointed to the brightly lit office.
“She? Where?” – John replied quizzically, still drowsy from his short sleep.
“There! In that building…”
Amber’s husband rubbed his eyes and fixed her gaze on the opposite building, he watched the scene unfolding inside the office with eyes as wide as plates. The struggling lady had been bound securely, as she wriggled her body from side to side in a violent fashion. The masked assailant could be seen strolling almost leisurely around the empty office space until his silhouette was lost in the shadows. Amber and her husband believed the man had left, but the suited woman was still in harm’s way. She could not move an inch, Amber was visibly worried about her well-being:
“John we have to do something, she might be in danger.” – Amber spoke with a tone of urgency
“Should we call the police?” – John replied rather pragmatically, trying to calm and reassure her wife.
“There’s no time for that, you know how long it can take them to come downtown…”
With these words, Amber got up from the bed and rushed to the clothing rack. Grabbing the first set of garments she found, Amber got dressed in record time. Coming close to the window she started counting the floors one by one until she reached the office where the helpless woman was struggling.
“Okay, floor fifteenth.” – she mumbled to herself.
“What did you say? Oh for god’s sake Amber you’re not really thinking of–“
“She needs help damn it. We might be the only witnesses, I’m going there.”
– Amber responded in a very stark and authoritative tone.Amber rushed her way to the elevators, and in no time she was already at street level. She had even forgotten the key to her room, but Amber was determined to aid the helpless woman. John watched from the window as her wife dashed across the cobbled square, piercing the ink blackness of the night. As she stepped inside the atrium, she was met with an eerie silence that filled up every corner and crevice of the majestic entrance. There was no one around, even the reception desk was completely desolate. This gave Amber some clues as to how the mysterious assailant had managed to sneak into the building. At least so she thought.
Out of view from the obliviously clueless Amber, and under the reception desk lay the bound body of the security guard. Her limp body had been restrained with a generous amount of silver-tape, binding her every aching limb. Despite her state of unconsciousness, the masked assailant had made sure to wrap her mouth with tape, thus her lips were sealed.
Had Amber noticed this, she probably would have proceeded with caution. In no time she was entering the elevator, pressing the button to the fifteenth floor. However, the doors did not shut. In fact, there was no reaction from the elevator’s system. Amber thought it was broken, so she tried the elevator right by her side. It was of no use, the woman quickly realised that she needed a magnetic key to operate the lifts, probably the sort of key exclusive to tenants and workers of the tower. This did not stop her, with a firm step she set foot in the hallway, and quickly glanced at the dimly lit stairwell across. Amber dashed with urgency, determined to climb the ominous flight of stairs until she reached level fifteen. It was a tall order, after reaching the sixth floor Amber had to pause to catch her breath.
With bated breath, she caught her second wind, and breaking sweats she finally made her way to the fifteenth floor. Amber knew she was on the right story because she recognised the brightly lit office at a glance. Enveloped in silent darkness, Amber treads carefully. The low hum of the heating unit and the buzzing of the fluorescents disguise her footsteps. She reaches the glass door to the helpless woman’s office, Amber finds the door was half-closed. The hanging telephone as well as the many sheets of paper scattered haphazardly across the floor showed the unequivocal signs of a struggle. Her heart races as she sets foot inside the office, her breath grows heavier. A rush of adrenaline through her brain meant her senses were sharpened in the stillness of the moment. The silence that surrounds her is abruptly interrupted by the faint sound of muffled whimpers, intermittent but constant in volume.
Her head turns towards the source of the sound, Amber now rushes to help the woman treading loudly on the floor. The thumping sound of footsteps alerted Lydia, who shifted the weight of her body in the direction of the noises. Her eyes open wide as plates and her struggles increase in intensity. The tape crinkles and crackles with every vivid motion, but it does not loosen up. The sound of the rubbing fabric blends with her blurred speech. Amber immediately rushes to help and crouches, pausing to reassure the helpless lady:
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out of here.” – Amber said decisively.
Far from reassuring, her words prompted a violent struggle on the bound lady. Wriggling and writhing against the bonds Amber went around the bound woman’s back and straddled, searching for a break in the tape. Lydia started to scream against her gag, trying to vocalise her words as much as she could. No matter how hard she tried, her sealed lips hindered her every attempt at communication. Blurred mumbles blurted out from her silver lips, each one louder than the last. In spite of her vehement efforts, Amber could not decipher what she was trying to say. Perhaps even worse than that, Amber seemed to be entranced in trying to free her.
From the corner of her eye, Lydia saw the masked assailant emerge from the shadows, making his way towards the couple. Her struggles increased, Lydia screamed and protested against the gag as loudly as she could, as fiercely as her forces allowed. “I’m trying, I’m trying…” – Amber exclaimed, clueless as to the true nature of Lydia’s muffled complaints. With every step closing the distance between them, Amber’s tunnel vision meant it was too late when she noticed the mysterious man approaching.
Amber’s face turned pale and she started to sweat profusely, petrified at the masked man’s sight. In visible shock, she uttered a shriek that pierced the crystal silence of the office. Amber’s desperate shout was cut when the masked assailant pressed a damp cloth over her face. Lydia watched as her saviour was being subdued right before her eyes, her look of horror nearly matched Amber’s. But there was little she could do, her muffled complaints added to the confusion of the moment. Amber clutched the man’s gloved hand with all her strength, she started to regret taking the stairs. Her forces had been significantly hindered, and as Amber began inhaling the damp cloth she started dozing off. In a stint of time that felt like an eternity, Amber’s limp body came tumbling down right next to the woman she was trying to rescue. The captor’s eyes gleamed in relief, he straddled and seemed to pause to catch his breath. Lydia resumed struggling, perhaps out of frustration rather than in a serious attempt at breaking free. Her only hope was lying face down in front of her, in deep slumber.
The captor wasted no time in binding the meddling lady, he drew the roll of silver tape from his back pocket and began unspooling the tape. With time in his favour, the captor did not stint on her restraints. He bound her wrists together as tightly as he could, the tape fused into a ball that served as a mitten. Thus her lower body was similarly bound, with profuse strips of tape binding her at the ankles, calves, knees and even her toned tights. Her skin bulged ever so slightly around the edges of the tape, a testament to the strict nature of the bonds. The masked assailant then plastered a few strips of tape over her lips, then proceeding to wrap the roll around her head until he ran out of tape. The sequence was underlined by Lydia’s vigorous but equally fruitless muffled groans. All the man had to do was ignore her, she no longer posed a serious threat…
AT THAT MOMENT, RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET…
John watched the scene unfold before his eyes. His face became the vivid image of shock as he watched helplessly, still by the edge of the bed, John reached for the telephone on the bedside table and dialled 911. However, the lines were out of order. He was uncertain of what to do, only minutes ago he had been awakened from his deep slumber, and now had become the silent witness of what he wished was a feverish dream. He climbed on the bed once again, shifting the weight of his body until he reached the other end of the bed. There he grabbed his crutches and got on his feet in a bumbling fashion, making his way to the door. Just as he was in the hallway, his leg failed him, and he tumbled onto the ground losing grip of his crutches. Now he was the helpless one, he too would need some help before being able to help his wife. Frustrated, he lay on the ground with intrusive thoughts of what may be happening to her beloved…
MEANWHILE…
Thus the masked assailant left the pair to struggle in their bonds, tossing the used roll of tape onto the floor. As he disappeared from view, Lydia could hear the man opening some drawers, and fiddling with filing cabinets. From the corner of her eye, aided by the reflection of the glass, she could see the man drawing a document from one of the filing cabinets. The masked assailant held the sheet of paper with both hands, seemingly inspecting it. Lydia’s attentive eyes tried surmising the nature of the document to no avail. After a few seconds, the man folded the document and stashed it in his pocket, without a care in the world as to wrinkling it. His thumping footsteps now seemed distant as the silhouette of the man disappeared into the shadows of the hallway. This time, he was gone for good.
Lydia was left alone with her pitiful companion, and her struggles ceased so she could catch her breath. Without the ubiquitous presence of their assailant, she started thinking about how she would escape. First, she started poking Amber’s side with her nylon-clad toes, in a vague attempt to wake her up. This proved to be fruitless, as her bound body remained in deep slumber. Then, she started wriggling against the tape once again, and soon she found out that stretching her legs made the tape loosen up. It was not by far a significant achievement, but it meant Lydia had just enough slack to try and get up from the floor. She cocked her head upwards, motioning her body into an upright position. With calculated movements, she brought her ankles closer to her body, and with a firm grip on the floor, she employed all her strength into getting up. At first, she stumbled and nearly fell, but after a second attempt, Lydia was back on her feet. With a much clearer view now, the woman scanned the office looking for something that could aid their escape. A pair of scissors was too much to ask it seemed, the desks lay completely empty except for the computers, keyboards and mice.
She turned her attention to one of the telephones nearest to her, and determined to reach it she started hopping her way towards it. This proved to be a significant challenge; Lydia initially tried to tiptoe her way across the glossy floor, but this was painstakingly slow. Her pantyhose meant she lacked a proper grip on the floor, but she opted to try and hop her way around. It seemed like the fastest solution, every time Lydia hopped she had to focus her efforts on balancing herself, which proved to be a much more arduous task than expected. Her careful steps had given their fruit. Before her eyes and at hand’s reach was the telephone on one of her co-worker’s desks. Lydia brought her body as close to the table as she could, turning her back towards the telephone. Her bound hands scoured the surface of the desk gently until she could finally feel the telephone’s cable. With a loose grip, she brought the telephone closer to the edges of the desk by pulling the cord towards her. Her mind was racing anxiously, and her heart began beating faster. She could feel the device coming as close to the edge as she wanted. Lydia scanned her fingers across the dial, trying to find the right numbers. She managed to dial 911, but just as she was doing so, the telephone jolted from its position and began to dangle from the edge of the desk…
“MMMMMPGHHH, MMMMPPHHHHH”.
Lydia yelled against her gag and writhed about, with such intensity that she lost balance and tripped, ungracefully falling to the floor. From there, she could easily see the telephone dangling right in front of her nose, prompting her to shout a muffled cry. She would be relieved to find that someone was at the other end of the line, her muffled whimpers ceased as Lydia paid close attention.
“911, what’s your emergency?” – the voice of the woman at the other end was faint but understandable.
“MMMMMGGHHHGG, MMMMHHH, MMMMMPGGHHH!” – Lydia yelled as loudly as her gag allowed her, hoping her symphony of incoherent dribble might give the operator a clue of the nature of her predicament
“I can’t quite make out what you are saying Madam, could you please hold the microphone closer to your mouth?” – the operator awaited a response
“MMMGGHHHG… MMMMPHH! MMMHMMH” – the bound woman’s face grew red in frustration with her fruitless attempts at vocalising her ordeal.
For a moment there was silence from the other end of the line, after a brief pause the faint voice returned.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” – the operator inquired, suspicious that the caller’s intentions may be disingenuous.
“MMMMMMMGGGGHHHG… MMMMPPPPHHHH” – Lydia shook her head from side to side as if the operator could see her. Stammering and blabbering with no clear message.
To Lydia’s horror, the call came to an end. She was left alone with the sound of the dial tone, which soon began to blend with the muffled cries of her bound companion, who had just woken up. Lydia wiggled her way across the floor like a worm, until she finally saw Amber struggling similarly. As they came close to each other, their gazes met. Lydia pressed the soles of her nylon-clad feet in an attempt to remove Amber’s gag to no avail. The tape had been wrapped around the woman’s jaw very securely, thus Lydia stood no chance. The hours of the night ticked on, and with nobody coming to rescue them, it dawned on Lydia that they would have to wait for the sun to rise and her co-workers to find them in that state…
