Whitney Prescott always thought she could charm her way through anything... a smile here, a well-timed laugh there made her one of the most popular secretaries in the office. But that all changed, one huge mistake made sure she'd never feel special again. Now all she felt was the ropes binding her wrists, wound so tight she can feel her pulse throbbing against the coarse fibers. The huge rubber ball crammed into her mouth tastes of salt and old grime, the kind that collects in places no one thinks to clean. It made her sick, and it was clear that none of her usual charms would work for her so all she can do is try to calm herself and think of how she can get out of this mess. She breathes through her nose in shallow pulls, each one a small negotiation.

Then she hears it, the footsteps receding down what sounds like a concrete hallway - each step a little more hollow than the last - then a door loudly closes, and then there is nothing. No voices, no hum of computers, or air conditioning. Just the faint creak of the old chair beneath her shifting weight, and the low, useless sound of her own muffled cries disappearing into the silence of the room.

[STRUGGLE SCENE ONLY + BONUS SCENE]