Write you heart out

"Does it matter what I have to write

You look to the person to your left waiting for a response. You get no response and they just look at you with an empty blank stare. You don't know if you should feel pissed, irritated, or outright afraid.

"Are you afraid of what could happen if you don't write?", the voice behind you says.

You look at the man. You can hardly see his face from the lighting of your computer. You weren't expecting a response, but you got it.

You stutter stupidly and say, "I-I'm sorry, I-I gu-guess, (you clear your throat as you notice the man leaning a little more towards you, but not enough for you to see his face)... I'm just a bit nervous".

"Don't worry, I've noticed that this company has a lot of nervous people in it", the man says with a glint of malice in his voice. He looks at you as if lost in thought, then he says, "you don't think that it's because of me right? Or do you think that it's because of the company?"

You feel as if this is a trick question to get you fucked. You look at him with the best confident gaze you can muster and say, "well, I feel comfortable here".

"Really? That is not the response I was expecting, seeing as I can notice and hear your incessant shaking on the seat.. your making too much noise", the man says.

You can't tell what frightens you other than three things. You feel as if he's boring holes into the back of your head, the deadpan voice he used when he said that, or the fact that you didn't even notice that you were shaking. You feel a drop of sweat start to trail down your face. You don't dare wipe it away.

The man, although in the shadows, seems to be reaching towards his ear. He's mumbling something you can't quite hear. He looks towards you and you feel yourself immediately straighten your back.

"Your lucky they have cameras everywhere here, other wise I might've not been able to push back the urge of doing something to you"

The man laughs as he looks at how frightened he's made you. You're pathetic.

"Time is almost up, I've been told by the boss to tell you to hurry up. You see he really likes the money and views you bring in."

You quickly nod your head and continue typing as he says other things you'd rather not write here. Please, if anyone is reading this contact the authorities.

"I hope you've written your heart out this time because the boss intends to read your story. I'm not sure why he would even bother with that.", the man says.

Damn, I fucked up didn't I. I hope you enjoyed my story you piece of shit. I hope you regret imprisoning us here, once you're rotting in HELL.

Don't bother contacting the authorities anymore. I have no hope because I know that the moment I try to delete my plead for help I will be discovered even faster.

To those that have read this, I hope you've enjoyed my last story.

I'm sorry mom, I should've dropped the case while I had the chance.