I walk home slowly, breathing in the cool Autumn air. I'm exhausted from working an eight hour shift and I can't wait to get home; I plan on curling up in my pyjamas with a blanket and a film.

I turn into an alley, a shortcut that I take every day. It takes almost ten minutes off of my walk home. I know every corner, every abandoned object that lies in my path but that doesn't stop me from scanning the darkness cautiously.

My pace quickens as I walk, and I can see the other end from where I am.

I'm about to leave the shadows of the narrow alley behind when a cloth is forced over my mouth and I'm dragged backwards. I can't scream out, and the person dragging me is strong enough to stem any of my attempts to free myself.

I begin to feel drowsy, my eyelids drooping. Soon, everything goes black.

*

I'm groggy when I wake, and I struggle to open my eyes. My hands are tied tightly behind my back and I've been thrown on my front. I'm in the back of a vehicle of some kind, and I wince as the bumpy road throws me around a little.

This must be a transit van or something, I think.

When my eyes adjust to the darkness of wherever I am, I squint in order to make out any shapes. There's nothing, except a roll of tape near my head. I struggle against the bindings around my wrists, but to no avail.

I can hear voices from the front of the van. Deep, male voices. I can't hear what they're saying; the van's bodywork is apparently so rusty it's creaking loudly as we move along.

Tears of frustration stream down my face as keep trying to free my wrists, wondering if anyone's noticed my absence yet. I don't know how long I was unconscious for, how long ago I was captured in that alley.

I don't know how much time passes as I'm chucked about in the back of the van. The driver turns corners sharply and violently, and my body aches everywhere from hitting the sides of the van. I can taste blood from where I've been biting my lip to stop me from crying out.

The van abruptly comes to a stop, and I hear the doors close. Footsteps go around the van, and the doors are unlocked. Light streams in when they open, blinding me momentarily.

"Oh look, she's awake!" Says one of the voices, and I cringe.

"Come on, we're late gettin' 'er 'ere," says the other voice as the first man grabs my ankles and drags me out. I wince as something on the floor of the van grazes my temple, and I'm violently thrown over my captor's shoulder.

"If you stay quiet, you won't get a beating," he says. Both men laugh harshly as they walk. It's too dark for me to see anything. There are no lights anywhere, and not even the moon is out to help me. The sky is pitch dark, just like everything else that surrounds me.

2: Part 1

I hear a door open and artificial light enables me to see. I look around, frantically searching for signs of anything that might help. My heart sinks when I realise that we're in the middle of nowhere. I can hear the crickets and grasshoppers.

"Nothing out there to 'elp ya, love," says one of the men, smirking. He's walking behind the other man who is carrying me. The light reveals beady black eyes set in a squashed-looking face, with only a thin, sneering line for a mouth and a receding hairline. I scowl at him, and this earns me a hard slap around the face and my eyes sting with tears. I breathe deeply to calm myself down.

"She misbehavin' back there?" Asks the man carrying me.

"Nuffin' I can't 'andle Baz," replies Squashed Face. I look back over to where I've been carried from, and see four dirty grey transit vans parked alongside each other.

I'm carried inside of what seems to be some kind of cottage, and the door is slammed shut. The hall that I'm carried down is narrow, and Baz turns a corner so sharply my head nearly hits the wall. All of a sudden, Baz pulls me off his shoulder and drops me on my feet.

My hands are still bound together and I'm frozen to the spot as Baz leans forward with a knife. But all he does it grab my hands and slice the tape that holds them together, freeing them. Then he points to a door behind me.

"In there," he orders. A few tears escape from my eyes as I timidly walk towards the room. It opens as I near it, and the knot in my stomach tightens. I feel a hard push against me, pushing me into the room. The door slams.

The room is not large and is also square, but luxurious. An exquisite mahogany desk sits in the centre, a bronze coat hook stands off to the side, a large gilded mirror is positioned on the wall to my left, and there are various paintings hung on the wall that look expensive and to a certain taste.

Behind the desk is a chair. It's turned away from me so I can't see who sits in it, but their presence looms over me like a cloud. Whoever it is has some importance, and is obviously in charge of this whole thing.

I'm now terrified.

My breathing comes in quick, shallow gasps as the chair slowly turns around to face me. The man sitting in it looks hard at me, his icy blue eyes amused at my state. He's a large man, broad shouldered and well built. His dark hair is cropped close to his head, and his pin-striped suit is impeccable.

"Good evening, Rose," he says, and his voice is coldly calm.

"Who are you?" I stammer. "What do you want with me?"

"All in good time, Rose."

His eyes are laughing at me, and he throws me a packet of baby wipes.

"Clean yourself up, Rose," he says, gesturing to the mirror. "You want to look your best for what awaits you."

3: Part 2

I'm not given much time to clean the blood from my lip or my tear stained cheeks. The man behind the desk seems impatient.

"Hurry now, Rose," he says. "We want to hurry this process up. We don't like to be kept waiting for our entertainment."

"Entertainment?" I repeat. "What entertainment?"

"All in good time," he says. His voice is patronising, as if he's talking to a seven year old instead of a seventeen year old.

The door opens, and Baz and Squashed Face walk in.

"You called, Boss?" Baz says. I frown. The man behind the desk never called anyone.

"Yes Baz," the Boss replies. "Take her now."

"Are we bein' gentle wiv this one?" Squashed Face asks, his black eyes glinting. The Boss thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head.

"Not this one, Harvey," he says. I don't have time to do anything, because I'm suddenly being hoisted up and thrown over someone's shoulder again. A quick scan around the room reveals it to be Squashed Face – Harvey – who's carrying me this time.

I'm carried out of the Boss' office and through more narrow corridors. Harvey turns corners sharply, and laughs cruelly when I catch my head on the top of a doorframe. After a few minutes, we suddenly come to a stop.

"Open the door, Baz," Harvey says. Baz quickly slips past us and I hear him unlock and open a door.

Harvey steps forward and before I know it, I'm being thrown across the room. As my body comes into contact with the opposite wall, I groan in pain.

"Fuck!" I mutter. I roll over onto my stomach and curl up. I hope you don't ever experience that, or anything similar; it hurts.

The two men laugh again, and I hear the door slam. The key turns in the lock and their fading footsteps indicate that they are walking away.

"Rose!" A familiar voice cries, and I lift my head to see two people rushing towards me.

"Fay?" I manage. She helps me stand up, while the other person helps me stand up. I look at the other person and my heart skips a beat as my blue eyes lock with dark brown ones. "Matthew?"

The corner of his lips twitch but he doesn't smile.

They help me walk over to where someone else is sat, and I recognise him as Benjamin. He's Fay's boyfriend, and he just stays where he is as the other two help me.

I exhale as I sit down and lean against the wall. Fay and Matthew sit either side of me, with Fay sitting near Benjamin.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"We wish we knew," Fay says. "Are you okay?"

"Couple of bruised ribs, I'll be fine," I say, managing a reassuring smile. I don't feel fine, physically or emotionally, and not just because of this situation. Let me explain why.

Fay is one of my closest friends in the entire world. She's nine months older than me, recently turned eighteen. She's drop-dead gorgeous, with dark brown eyes, long brown hair, and flawless olive skin. She's dating Benjamin who is a year older than me, also eighteen. I don't know him that well, but I've heard enough to know that we wouldn't get along.

Then there's Matthew. At 23, he's six years older than me. He has dark, chocolaty brown eyes, and dark hair. He's only a couple of inches taller than me, give or take, but in my eyes he's perfect. I can't find a single fault.

Apart from the fact that he's crazy about Fay.

So I'm stuck in a room with the guy I like, the girl he likes, and the guy she's dating. Fun, right?

Now all that's left is to know why we're in here.

4: Part 3

Nobody is speaking, and I can't stand the silence.

"How did they pick you guys up then?" I ask.

"Benjamin and I were out and as we were walking through an alley, they just got us then," Fay explains. "What about you?"

"Walking home from work," I say. "Cut through an alley." I look over at Matthew. "How did they get you?"

"Just as I was leaving work," he says. "I was walking to my car and the next thing I knew, I was tied up in the back of a van."

"I wanna know what the hell they want," Benjamin says, his anger evident in his tone.

"We all do," Fay snaps. "You're not the only one going through this, you know."

I shift awkwardly and wince in pain as my body reminds me that I'm severely bruised.

"You alright?" Matthew asks me, frowning.

"Yeah," I say. I can't look at him. "Were any of you used for shot put practice?"

"No, we were all just pushed in," Fay says. I sigh.

"Just me then."

I lean back against the wall, trying to ease the pain my ribs are experiencing. The room we've been locked in is small and square, with clinically white-washed walls and smooth wooden flooring. There's a light switch near the door, and the light is just a naked bulb hanging from the centre of the ceiling. There are small black cameras in each of the four corners of the room.

"I wonder what's going to happen to us." I say it aloud, but no louder than a whisper. I slowly stand up, breathing deeply.

"Rose, you should really stay sat down," Fay says. "You're hurt."

"That's the least of my worries right now," I say. "I want to know when they're planning on telling us why they've arranged this meeting."

"I honestly don't understand what they want with us, specifically," Fay says, her voice wavering slightly. Benjamin moves closer to her and puts his arm around her. I don't miss the sad glance that Matthew sends their way, but I wish I had missed it.

"Did any of you meet him?" I suddenly ask. They all look at me blankly.

"Who?" Benjamin asks.

"None of you met the bloke in the big chair?" The shake their heads.

"This must be something to do with you then," Benjamin says. "You're the only one who met that guy. We were all just brought straight here."

"Are you suggesting that this is somehow her fault?" Matthew demands. Benjamin doesn't waste a breath.

"Well, it's can't be either of us," he says. "Because we don't know each other. That leaves Fay and her because they know everyone–" he looks directly at me. "–but it can't be Fay because she didn't meet the 'bloke in the chair' but she did, so it's clearly her fault."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that meeting someone instantly meant that I was somehow involved in the kidnapping of three other people I know," I snap. "Oh, and my name is Rose. Not 'her' or 'she'. Rose."

My eyes are stinging with tears, and I look away from them. I start pacing, trying to figure things out.

"It's not her fault!" Fay is arguing with Benjamin. "I can't believe you're accusing her of this!"

They continue arguing, but I block their voices out.

It's not my fault.

It's not my fault.

It's not my fault.

So why do I have the strange feeling that it is?

I don't have much time to dwell on this, because suddenly I hear footsteps and the lock in the door clicks. It swings open and the Boss walks in, flanked by Baz and Harvey.

"Please sit, Rose," he orders. Fearfully, I do as I'm told, taking my place between Fay and Matthew again.

"Why are we here?" Benjamin demands angrily. "What do you want with us?!"

"Shut your mouth, gob-shite," Harvey hisses. "'e's abou' to explain."

The Boss makes us wait a few minutes before speaking. He is standing up straight, with an authorative air surrounding him.

"You are here for our entertainment," he begins. "One of you is at the centre of a situation that concerns the other three. You do not need to figure out which one of you this is."

"What do we have to do then?" Benjamin asks. Harvey goes to step forward, but the Boss holds a hand out to stop him.

"If you would let me finish, Benjamin," he says coldly. Benjamin says nothing more. "You have twenty-four hours to think about your task, and then you will inform us of the outcome. The four of you have promising futures ahead of you, but only three of you will be given the opportunity to experience them. Your task is to decide which three."