December 22nd, 10:21 p.m. (Mountain Time)
Abigail and Layla had sneaked through the building, trying to find the exit. They were being held in what appeared to be an antique shop. During their exodus, they had passed numerous items dating back hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Had they not been focused on getting free from their captors, they might have stopped to admire the unique pieces of art. Abigail poked her head through a doorway. Not seeing anyone, she motioned for Layla to follow her.
Stepping through the doorway, the girls entered a large showroom with several glass counters displaying many items similar to the ones the girls had already seen. Moving deeper into the room, Abigail heard voices nearby. She faced Layla and held her index finger to her lips before pointing toward a door on the other side of the room. Staying low and moving carefully, the girls were almost to the door, when Abigail heard a loud noise behind her. She whirled around and saw Layla standing near the broken pieces of a large antique vase. She watched Layla duck her head and raise her shoulders. She had bumped the vase by accident. “Run,” shouted Abigail, spinning around and bolting for the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Reaching for the door handle, she stole a quick look behind her to make sure Layla was coming. Whipping her head back around, Abigail ran headfirst into the arms of a middle-eastern man, who grabbed her and forced her to floor. She saw Layla attempt to get the man off Abigail, but he swung his left arm backwards and hit Layla in the side of the head, making her backpedal into the waiting arms of a second man. Layla screamed, but the man behind her put his hand over her mouth and her screams were muffled. Abigail continued to struggle, until she felt a sharp prick in her neck. She was familiar with what came next. Her vision dimmed and she saw a small black hole get bigger, until she lost consciousness.