THE CAPTURED

Her lungs burned as she took in more breath, her heart pounding against her ribs. He was getting closer and closer. I'm not going to bother moving silently any longer. She should have fled as soon as she noticed them approaching the edge. Her heartbeat and wheezing are the only sounds she hears. 'HELP!' she wanted to scream. HELP! HELP! 'However, it was doomed to fail.' No one is going to be able to save her. This island she had dreamed about had turned out to be her worst nightmare. The moment she understood that something was terribly wrong. But she'd stood there, frozen in disbelief. Stood there, even when he turned toward her. Even as he looked past her, through her, then said something to the other man. Her first instinct to rush forward and assist had been cut off by a cold, paralyzing fear. And the knowledge that what she'd just witnessed wasn't an accident. As she fell over roots and twisted her foot in vines, a sob caught in her throat, strangling her. She threw herself forward and landed hard on her face. Her cheek burned where she'd scraped the ground, and hot tears rushed behind her eyes. She remembers her sister and her parents. They've been there for her since the beginning. They told her not to go when they found out it was headed to a distant island, but she persisted in following her dream. She is regretful for going there. This island is a nightmare. But it was too late to go back and change her mind. If she just keeps up with them. She is not in this situation. She scrambled up and started running again. He was so close now she could hear him breathing. She'd never make it back to campsites. “Oh come on b*tch come here you are the star of this show.” It was said to her. This production, in her mind, is crazy. They're insane. They are attempting to make it as realistic as possible. She goes on and on. She'll never stop running because if she does, she'll die. And if she got caught. This is her last shooting . At the fork in the trail She turned right, toward the beach. He couldn't hurt her out in the open, not in broad daylight. Not where someone might see her, and help her. She had a strong desire to do so, despite the nightmare. She genuinely does. But what if the night appears? Everything will come to an end. She was almost there. The sheer rush of hope as she spotted a flash of blue water ahead gave her a burst of adrenaline and propelled her legs faster. Because the hope was there. Moments later she was sliding down the slope, spilling onto the white warm sand. She pushed herself back onto her feet, half running and half stumbling forward, choking out a sob of relief. The sunlight glistened on the water. Then her skin turned to freeze. He was calling her name softly. She opened her mouth to scream as she can, but there was no sound. She tried to run, but her feet were dragged by the sand. She couldn't move since her legs were weak. They're not moving quickly enough. She fell again, and she turned around to see him gliding down the slope and stepping onto the beach behind her. She finally found her voice and screamed for help as loudly as she could. She finally let it out. But there was no one there, as far as she could see, throughout the entire length of the beach. She screamed again, crawling on her hands and knees, turning then falling back on the sand as he walked toward her. "Who are you? I didn't see anything. I won't tell anyone. Please." He just shook his head, then unfolded a latex mask and pulled it on, hiding his features. She'd already seen his face. Why did he need a mask when she'd already seen his face? The fact nobody had earlier helped her. Yes, it’s like she's in the middle of filming, but that's the reality. As the man with the mask approached her, images from every horror film she'd ever seen rushed through her mind. "Please! Help!” she screamed again. Then sobbed, "I won't tell anyone! J-just let me go!” She was scurrying backwards now, on all fours, like a crab. "Yes of course." he said, "you won't tell." When she saw the gun in his hand she closed her eyes and, for the first time in more years than she could remember, she began to remember. She remember the only one who can help her. She prayed. **** "Good afternoon ladies and gentleman. Today I have good news.” The man leaned against a table in the front of the LINDOWN hotel's small conference room. His nonchalant stance seemed at odds with the measured expression in his eyes as he examined the room. HE APPEARS TO BE AS LUXURIOUS AS THE BILLIONAIRE BOSS IN THE MOVIE. This had to be the "ruggedly handsome" director her sister had described in a rushed phone call more than two months earlier, Allixon reasoned.Before Gwenieth vanished She was rumored to have left for the set of a new reality show. However, as far as Allixon would tell, no one in the industry had ever heard of it. The director was tall and lean, dressed in a loose black fitting polo shirt and faded jeans. Although he wasn't overly muscular, Allixon's experience as a fitness instructor told her this was not a man who spent his time sitting behind a desk. He maybe goes three or twice a week. She could easily imagine him performing the physical challenges on an old school, survival-type reality show. Since he looks so flexible based on what she sees. His steady gaze scanned the forty or so people sitting on the folding chairs, and they immediately fell silent. Nervous excitement filled the air. While she studied the director, he suddenly looked her in the eyes. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, afraid that somehow her face would reveal that she was no ordinary contestant. This man has a lot on his plate. He had everything. He has a lot of money, and she admits that he is incredibly attractive. However, there is no obvious reason why her sister vanished on that strange island. Her sister is extremely persuasive when it comes to acting. However, in order to get the fame she wants, she decided to participate in this reality show. This reality show has a huge fan base. However, there is no information about the other contestant who didn’t win. The winner was the only one who appeared on television. Because the other contestant's social media account was already gone and unreachable, the reason why Allixon never had the opportunity to ask them. The director seemed to measure her a moment longer, then moved on. She exhaled slowly, unaware until that moment that she had been holding her breath. There was no way he'd recognized her as Gwenieth's sister. Gwenieth was movie-star gorgeous, in a classic cinema sort of way that belied her adventurous spirit. But she never wins to another actress for some reason. She always outshines. Allixon, on the other hand, was a throwback to the Irish ancestors on their father's side of the family. She told herself to relax. The longer she kept her identity a secret, the better chance she had of catching the director off-guard. That is, if she ever got the chance to speak with him alone. His voice, like the appraising look he'd used to survey the room, had an undercurrent of steel. “My name's Logan Smith. I want to congratulate all of you on being selected as possible contestants for Reality survival Island. I'm here to answer any questions you have. Then we'll be interviewing each of you briefly, and you'll be notified of our final selection by the end of the week.” "Understand that if we could, we would choose you all. But the success of our program requires the proper mix of contestants. For those of you who aren't selected today, we'll keep you on our list for future tapings. But for the people that will be listed. Early congrats.”