Emotional Hostage Novels & Stories

We're teaching Catherine that her mother chose terrorism over family, so by five years old, she won't remember you or want rescue. Elena's 45% consciousness could process losing Catherine's love without feeling the full emotional impact, making the psychological warfare successful. The isolation continued for another month without word on Dante's survival or Hope's safety in the infant care facility. "You're never seeing your daughters again," the ISOC director said in Elena's cell on his only visit. "Accept reality, and your remaining detention time will be easier than fighting inevitable outcomes." Elena had been alone in her cell for six weeks when her door opened unexpectedly at 3 AM, an

Worried about Zach's and Loretta's safety, she yelled angrily, "Oliver, what do you want?" Oliver lounged at the opposite end of the couch, legs crossed, and replied casually, "Isn't it obvious?" At that moment, a man armed with a gun approached them and demanded they hand over all their phones and watches. Sienna lowered her head, leaned toward Daniel's ear, and whispered, "We're being held hostage. There are loads of men, loads of guns, and tons of explosives here. One wrong move and we'll be blown to bits. Lucky you, huh? You'll die soon. Are you happy?"

“I caught one of her men yesterday,I’m currently holding him hostage.” “Really?” Emma said “I don’t really know about that, but if you are holding him hostage, She’ll definitely suspect it. But she seems more focused on rebuilding right now. She’s weak physically but dangerous mentally. This early discharge tells me she’s not planning to hide and heal. She’s planning something.” I felt a rush of dark satisfaction mixed with fresh anger. “Thank you, Emma. You’re a lifesaver. Keep watching her every second. If she sneezes, I want to know.”

“Driver matches Avery. Dog visible in passenger seat.” Relief flickered. Then, died when James spoke again. “She’s not alone.” Every hair on my arms rose. Colton’s voice went low. “Explain.” “Traffic camera caught movement in the rear of the truck. Human shape, bound wrists, possibly. Could be injured or a hostage.” Bailey blinked. “Hostage?” Emily’s voice crackled with something like admiration. “The sedated man is still here. The one she cut is not.”

Just one more night in this hell hole. *** I was startled awake by shouting. “Police, put your hands up!” I was being saved. “Help!” I screamed. “Help me!” A few minutes later the door burst open. The flashlights blinded me slightly. “Jovie Wimberley?” One of the officers asked. “Yes, yes that’s me! They-they held me hostage!” “Let me through!” A familiar voice called. “That’s my fiancee!” I was strangely relieved when a man came into sight. Jasper.

You have no right to keep her here. "No right?" I asked, my voice stiffer. "You believe I took your daughter hostage? You think I am not aware of what you want to do to her? You think I don’t see the emotional scars she conceals every single day? I didn't take her hostage, Shane. She escaped from your home and from you." His face twisted, and I saw his guards shift restlessly behind him. He did not enjoy being defied. Not by a superior. Not by someone who would tear him limb from limb if he moved so much as a foot in the wrong direction.

Gio barked. It was one of the women who responded in a shaky voice, "It's the hostage....She...She slashed her wrists.."

I squeak in fear “Our hostage situations mean something different than yours.” “What does it mean?” “It means that they are going to keep them partying until we get there and learn what they would like.” Slipping his arm around my waist, he chuckles at my confusion. “We get everything that we want. If they want something, we just talk about it. Anger and fighting normally happen because of disagreements. True hostage situations aren’t a thing here. No one is ever in danger unless you consider an abundance of coffee and pastries a danger. Normally they will try and sway the person they are hanging out with to believe in the words and needs. It isn’t anything serious at all. Probably just want

She just got good reflexes, easy peasy. “They won’t call me ‘White Viper’ if my movements are sloppy, you idiots!” She confidently commented and threw quick kicks and punches at the hooligans until the man was left with only five of his men. “EVERYBODY PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN AND LET THE HOSTAGE GO!” A strong authoritative voice filled the hall. Everyone waft their gazes at the counter upstairs where Hyde stood up. The man put down his hand with the weapon and released Robert. However, when the hostage stood up, he pulled back his hand and was about to shoot him, but Hyde was able to shoot the gun he was holding before he could fire it. He just lost his grip on the pistol.

My nipples tighten, pressing against the silk fabric. Is he really going to let me out? "Let's go," he said, smiling approvingly. But I just froze. I kept asking myself: is this really happening? And as always, the answer is the answer: yes. I entered the living room as if entering a completely different world. That's where I was terribly afraid to infiltrate. I hesitate, the room feels too big, too cold, and too bright for my sensitive eyes. I squeeze Eric's hand, needing reassurance that he's close to me, and then stop. My way of thinking is weird, but there's no way to change it. What is it called for a hostage to seek protection from his captor? Stockholm syndrome? Did I have it? Is it c