ManyWriters

On my way home, I was kidnapped by my husband Elliot's enemie.
To force Elliot to show himself, the kidnapper slashed my face and pulled out my fingernails.
Unable to reach Elliot, he started live streaming my torture.
He repeatedly cut open my skin and even poured salt water on my wounds over and over, yet wouldn't let me die completely.
The police frantically searched for Elliot, but he had turned off his phone, busy celebrating an anniversary with his mistress.
The day I was rescued, he looked at my body covered in wounds and covered his mistress's eyes:
"Don't look at her, it's disgusting."
They were relieved the kidnapper was dead, thinking their plot would never be exposed.
But they didn't know that before dying, the kidnapper had given me all the evidence.
You two scumbags, prepare to die.

Kidnapped on My Way Home

Before I could speak, the kidnapper's gaze fell on me.


He scrutinized me as I desperately tried to shrink back, selecting a pair of pliers from a nearby toolbox.


"Looks like it's not painful enough. You still have the strength to bargain with me?"


"Melody, why are you hiding? Are you still trying to run? Have I been too gentle with you?"


"Well, I'm about to make sure you can't escape. Don't blame me, this is all because of what you and your husband owe me."


I couldn't understand a word he was saying.


Since marrying Elliot, I'd been content as a housewife, with almost zero social life. I didn't recognize this man at all.


But he didn't give me a chance to speak. He grabbed my hand and clamped the pliers tightly on my thumbnail.


The next second, excruciating pain shot through my fingertip. I watched in horror as my entire nail fell to the ground.


The kidnapper shrugged, flashing an apologetic smile.


"Sorry about that, Mrs. Shaw. The pliers were too big and took some flesh with it. Don't worry, I'll be gentler from now on, so try not to move, okay?"


The agony was so intense I nearly passed out.


The crisp sound of my nails being torn off echoed through the dilapidated warehouse, one after another falling to the ground. The kidnapper gave me no chance to catch my breath.


Just when I thought I was about to lose consciousness, the kidnapper would plunge my bloodied hands into a basin.


"This is a highly concentrated salt solution, Mrs. Shaw. It'll help disinfect your wounds. We wouldn't want them to get infected, now would we?"


"It'll also help keep you alert. After all, the game wouldn't be fun if you passed out, right?"


After ripping out all twenty nails from my fingers and toes, the kidnapper took close-up photos of my face, hands, and feet. Then he tossed me aside like a piece of trash.


Laughing, he tapped a few buttons on my phone.


"I've sent the photos to Elliot. What do you think? Will he call?"


After a while, the phone rang. As the kidnapper pressed the answer button, a flicker of hope rose in my chest.


But the voice on the other end was Neve's.


"Sorry about this, but Elliot doesn't want to be bothered by you guys. He gave me his phone."


"Melody, you know how busy Elliot usually is managing such a large hospital on his own. Now that he finally has a chance for a vacation, just let him rest properly."


"Also, don't use those desperate tactics again. The fake photos you made with AI were really disgusting. I've already deleted them, by the way."


Hearing Neve's words, my heart finally fell into utter stillness.


I looked at the kidnapper standing in front of me, forcing a desperate smile despite the pain from my bruised face.


"See? I told you he doesn't care whether I live or die. He's not coming."


The kidnapper finally couldn't contain his anger anymore, kicking me repeatedly.


I couldn't hold on any longer and passed out, my eyes closing.


I don't know how long it was before I was awakened by a commotion.


Before I could even open my eyes, I was grabbed by my hair and dragged in front of a table.


The kidnapper held my face firmly in front of the phone camera, his expression twisted as he spoke into the lens.


"Elliot, Doctor Shaw, look at this person. Do you recognize her?"


"This is your wife. Don't you recognize her? Look at her face. Don't you know her?"


"Don't blame me for seeking you out this way. You won't answer my calls or respond to my messages. I'm really out of options here."


Chapter 2