A Trap Novels & Stories

"Mom, I love you! Come back soon, okay? We'll go to the amusement park and surprise Dad." ... The car scraped against the guardrail with a loud bang. My heart pounded, but I did not stop to check the damage. My speed did not decrease. My phone rang again, and it was Charles. I answered, my voice trembling, "Charles, where are you? Where's Sally?" "She's in the car!" he snapped. "Why are you tracking me? What's the big deal?" "Charles, listen to me. You need to get her out now!" I pleaded.

Two police officers came to see me—one older and one younger. “Stella Elba, twenty-eight years old, currently unemployed?” The older officer glanced down at his notebook. “Yes.” “Why did you take an excessive amount of sleeping pills?” “I took the wrong dose.” “The wrong dose?” The younger officer frowned. “Three blister packs are missing more than a dozen pills, and you’re telling us it was an accident?” I stared at the ceiling. “It was an accident.” The two officers exchanged looks. The older one closed his notebook. “We’re going to speak with your doctor. If you need help, you need to be honest with us.”

Several guards rushed in and struggled for a long time before pinning Caleb's father to the floor. Amid the chaos, Caleb ran to the influencer's camera and snatched the selfie stick. He sobbed at the screen. "Everyone, you saw it, right? He's a psychopath. He deliberately disguised bricks as a laptop to trick me. I plugged my USB into the wrong port and it short-circuited! "My thesis really is gone. This is murder by another name. Please help me get justice!"

The sight was beclouded and dizzy, draining their senses, and no one wanted to stop there. “Laila,” Tristy called to her, shaking the white packet. Laila’s eyes widened with heaviness brewing inside them. “Let’s go,” She took them inside the red room and settled around the glass table. Tristy pulled up her card and skillfully constructed eight lines of the pleasurable grate. She looked at others with a twitched lip.

For an instant moment, I couldn't stop myself from falling apart anymore. Tripping on a runway show was the biggest shame for a model. If someone had sided with the higher ups bad side, her career was bound to be fall down. At that moment, I was having no less danger than this situation. I remembered the last incident happened with Model Sana. She tripped on her high heels over the runway and as a result, the brand cancelled their Contract with her. Even they blamed telling that Sana wasn't professional.

She didn’t see the camera in the light fixture. She didn’t see Nathan’s screen. She didn’t see the trap tightening, one quiet click at a time. The trap was finally in motion.

"We're going to wind them up with a trap before ambushing them deeper into the territory. Who's going to set the traps? What kind of traps?" "The timing should be perfect. We cant have the vanguard losing their number earlier in the game," Minnie told Ace. "So the trap should be able to report." I cleared my throat. They want our team to be the bait and the trap simultaneously. I know so since four sets of eyes looked at me. "I didn't know whether we're the trap or the sacrifice here," I said and sighed helplessly. "Anyway, don't blame me if we fail." Ace looked at me intently. He must be thinking of another way not to consume the particular unit since he said

“Run faster, Catherine.” My head snapped back at T’s voice. My foot tripped. I yelped, stumbling before gaining my balance. I scanned where I was again. Concrete flagged my sides, the crates were still a good eight feet away. I moved. Feet slapping against the ground, echoing in the air and the moment I reached the trap. Up close, they looked worse… rotting wood, unevenly stacked, barely holding together. Perfect. I skidded to a stop just past them, spinning around like I’d hit a dead end.

“Jennita...,“ her head is matted with sweat and blood, and my heart twinges with pain, hearing the relief just from calling my name, the weak smile she shot me before she took a deep breath, moving uncomfortably in the trap. “You’re doing perfectly, Brenda. Just hang in there,” I looked over the trap, uncertain. It’s a hunter’s trap, alright. I’ve seen plenty of this while on hunts or patrol, but I’ve never seen anyone get caught in one, so I was lost on what to do momentarily. “I’ll get you out of this, alright.”