I woke up in a place that smelt of mold and mildew. The walls were covered in a thick layer of black mold that only made me cough frequently. A headache perpetrated my head, and soon, it ached without remorse. Yes, I knew I had been captured, but my kidnapper must be a stupid soul to kidnap an ex-wrestler.

I was tired to a black swivel chair—not the most appealing choice for a kidnapper. The whole warehouse I was in looked oddly familiar, only increasingly rusted and worn-down. My speaking was muffled by a thick layer of duct tape and a rope that went across my entire head. My hands were planted behind the swivel chair, also tied in a very poorly knotted rope. My legs were sprawled out on the ground, placed up against a plastic pole in the swivel chair, tied up as well. It seems that my kidnapper has little to no experience. With the swivel chair, I turned around to face a table with various weapons placed about. One of which was a pocket knife. I laughed to myself. How could anyone be so dumb. At least they took my phone out of my pocket, but he left it on the table next to all his weapons he probably placed their to intimidate me.

The warehouse bad a very earthy, unpleasant smell. I couldn’t cover my nose though. Was this person plan to kill me with how much mold was in the room? 

I grabbed the knife off the table, turning the swivel chair around before grabbing it and setting my hands free with the magic of sawing the rope. I probably could’ve unknotted the knot to begin with. 

My kidnapper must have been delusional. They were probably on some shopping trip getting more ‘torture weapons.’ This was the most pathetic setup I’ve ever seen. Who in the right mind would think to put a victim right by a table with a bunch of weapons they could use to escape. I was practically dying on laughter by this point. It struggled to get my legs free from how hard I was laughing. I would’ve expected this kidnapping to be more serious but I couldn’t take it seriously at all. I finally got my legs untied before ripping off the tape and rope they had put on my mouth. I put the the pocket knife in my pocket just as my kidnapper walked in. 

He stared at me in pure shock. His mouth hung open. He wore a black ski mask and a black coat, concealing his eyes with sunglasses. He looked like a low-budget robber if they didn’t have enough money to buy a gun. 

The kidnapper quickly pulled off his ski mask, revealing himself to be my old boss. Before I became a wrestler my old boss begged me to stay, but I declined his offer. My old boss walked out toward me and smiled, but it was more of a friendly gesture than a sinister one. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Barbra,” he said after a long pause.