A/N: Hello everyone! Suuuper sorry for being absent for the longest writing hiatus ever. It's been an awful mix of writing block and life keeping me super busy these past couple of months. So, in honour of the new season of Scandal, here's a new chapter :) I appreciate every single review, follow and favourite I've received so far. Thanks everyone!
Previously…
Hey, Abby mouthed, come here. The woman nodded. Her eyes glanced around and found no one else was watching them. She scooted closer towards her. She stopped when she was about two metres away from Abby, trying not to draw suspicion.
"What's your name?" Abby whispered, ever so slightly leaning towards her so she could hear.
"Jordan." She whispered back, glancing to her sides once more.
"Okay, Jordan I want you to do something for me. You know these masked men?" Jordan nodded. "I want you to whisper to as many people as possible to bring them down." Abby whispered. Jordan furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
"Literally. Tackle them down, punch them, knock them down. Grab their guns if you can. Anything to get them out of my way. I'm going to try and call for help outside. I'll give you a signal. Will you do that for me?" Abby whispered rapidly.
Jordan's eyes widened and nodded several times.
"As many people as possible, okay? The more, the better." Abby repeated. She nodded. Abby looked at Frank who was still in a deep conversation with the other masked man. She scanned the room once more, her blue eyes fixated on the tall, mahogany front door. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.
She was ready.
Olivia tapped her foot impatiently. She bit her lip, her eyes glancing at Mellie, then at the door. She couldn't bear not knowing where they took Abby. Is she even still alive? A million scenarios ran in her head, none of which ended well. She pictured Huck- or Quinn, walking towards her with that look- that look that would only mean one thing. She could see a body bag behind her being zipped up by paramedics. She looked back at Quinn in time to hear her voice crack as she delivered the grim news. She shook the thought away, turning away from Mellie as tears started forming. Her chest tightened and not a moment later, she couldn't breathe properly. She clutched at her chest and tried to find her breathing, but failed, quickly sending her into a spluttering, heaving mess.
"Olivia?" Mellie murmured, a concerned look on her eye.
"S-S-Stay here." Olivia choked out, abruptly standing up.
"Are you okay? Wait-Wha-Where are you going?" Mellie asked, surprised.
"Stay put. I mean it, Mellie. I'm going to find Abby."
Abby watched Jordan whisper the details on a man's ear. She bit her lip, glancing back to her masked captor, Frank, an apprehensive eye on him. Her eyes anxiously scanned the rest of the room. Abby watched the scene unfold. She noticed a dramatic change in the atmosphere. Whispers grew louder as the message was spread; people glanced at her before looking away, returning back to their animated whispers. She was still scratching away at her wrists, determined to get out of the tight restraints. Her wrists bore an angry red colour, her skin turning raw. Seeing that it refused to budge, she glanced back at Frank and started biting through the duct tape. She managed to make a small tear until she saw the masked man Frank was talking to walk away in the corner of her eye. She quickly pulled down her hands and angled the small tear away from him as he arrived.
He roughly grabbed her arm and walked her to a corner. "I don't know about you, Miss Whelan, but I'm having a grand time tonight." He whispered at her ear. "Don't fuck it up." He hissed. In one swift motion, he took her wrists and bound them tighter than ever with duct tape. "I'm not an idiot. Now, lead me to the president."
Abby looked around the room. She slowly started walking across the room aimlessly, trying to buy time. As soon as her body was straight across the main door- even though several metres still separated them- she yelled, "Now!"
The entire room suddenly woke up from its slumber. The floor shook under her feet as she watched the scene unfold. Roughly two dozen people started charging for the men in masks while others quickly ushered the rest away from the fight into rooms. The frantic look on people's faces as they collided into the fire exit doors leading down the stairs meant that they had barricaded and locked the door. It wasn't long after until the first shot from the masked men ran out. Piercing screams and echoes of gunshots filled the room, the splatter of blood a harsh contrast against the once white curtains. Abby stood rooted to the spot, slightly shaking. Yells of instructions from Frank echoed through the room as people were now trying to grab their weapons. A man in his early thirties was wrestling a masked man in one corner for his gun, both faces bloody and bruised. Abby could see several bodies on the floor, not moving. She stared in shock. She let out a muffled sob and wiped away a stray tear. Her heart twinged painfully as she wanted to help them. After a few moments, she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to regain her composure. She took one last look at the scene and ran for the door – which now stood unguarded.
She reached for the door handle and found it sealed shut. She turned the handle several times but it would not budge. She cried in frustration, taking a step back and slamming her side to the door repeatedly to force it open, to no avail. At the same time, a masked man heard the commotion by the door and yelled, "OI!"
Abby's heart skipped a beat. Desperate, she tried turning the door handle several times once again. The door remained close. As she saw him loom closer at the corner of her eye, she began to step back and kick the door, releasing cries of frustration when it remained close. Before she could kick it again, the man had taken a hold of her, placing his arms around her waist as she screamed. She fought and kicked against his grasp, finally punching his face with her elbow and wriggled free. She punched his face once again. The masked man then started stumbling backwards and finally – tripped on a clutch. He hit his head against the wall and crashed on the floor, unconscious. She stared in shock for a few seconds and forced her trembling figure down to search his pockets for anything that could help her open the door.
A cigarette pack, a blueprint of the building, some gum and finally – a gun. She examined the heavy weapon with her trembling hands, feeling the loaded power within. She has never used a gun outside a firing range before. Abby stood up and walked towards the locked door to the lobby. Taking a slow, shaky breath, she aimed for the lock. She fired three shots in quick succession. She cautiously walked forward and the door swung open with ease.
Abby had not made two steps when she slipped on something wet, smacking hard against the cold, white tiles. She groaned, clutching her head. She went to sit upright when she realised she was covered in something warm. She looked down and her eyes widened in horror as she looked at her hands. They were covered in deep, vivid blood, which slowly trickled down her arms.
"Oh my god." She whispered in horror, and crawled away as fast as she could. She turned around to see a woman, lying on her stomach, a pool of blood surrounding her. The woman's messy black hair concealed her face, her white dress splayed around her. Was it even white? Abby thought. The dress was almost completely saturated in blood; its source seemed to be coming from the deep, gaping hole on her chest. Her dark skin was pale, dead to the world.
Abby's heart dropped. She gasped, her trembling hands covering her mouth. "No. N-No. Oh, god. It's-It's not her. It can't be." She choked out, blinking back tears. Her trembling body crawled slowly towards the lifeless figure, leaving bloody handprints on the white tiles. She was crying now, her arms shaking so bad she could barely crawl forward. Please. Please Please Please Please Please, she chanted in her head.
Abby reached the body. Her heart thumped faster and faster, ringing in her ears. Her trembling hand cautiously met with the woman's shoulder. Goosebumps rose from Abby's skin. She was already so cold. She took a shaky breath, firmly held her shoulder and turned her around. The woman's lifeless eyes bore right through her. She gasped and crawled back in shock. She closed her eyes. It wasn't Olivia. She sighed in relief.
"Oh, thank god." She whispered. She stood up and saw the lifeless figure of a man behind her, who died in a similar fashion. Abby then looked at the door and looked back at the bodies and made the link. They were trying to get out of the lobby. The masked men must've had them surrounded and closed off all the exits as they entered the building. Smears of blood marked the mahogany door and the locked handle. Her eyes followed the smears down until the door touched the floor, where the smears of blood gradually became more frantic. She pictured that they must've been friends, or lovers, who were cornered by one of the masked men. They were shot and as a last resort, tried to flee the room, scratching and knocking against the locked door. Abby shook the thought away, her heart heavy. She looked around and saw it on the other side of the room. Barricaded and locked no doubt, was the front door.
"Turn around nice and slowly." A voice said, a gun pressed firmly on her head. Abby's heart stopped. She turned around and met with a man's piercing cold eyes, the barrel of a gun digging painfully against her skull. Even through his mask his voice was clear as day, echoing throughout the quiet hallway. He quickly snatched the gun she had forgotten was on her hand.
"And where do you think you're going?" he hissed, his voice laced with malice. He grabbed her arm firmly, and led her away from the bodies. They started walking across a dark hallway where doors led to smaller function rooms.
"Where'd you come from, huh? Me and my partner have been circling the lobby since we came. Locked and barricaded the doors and the windows. Shut down the elevators and closed off the stairs. No way you've been hiding in the lobby the whole time." He said, hissing at her ear. They reached one of the last doors on the hallway and stopped.
"Don't test me." He said through gritted teeth. She kept her mouth firmly shut, afraid that they would lock the doors to the room that she came in and trap everyone else inside. Tension filled the air as he breathed down her neck.
"I don't have time for games. How did you get to the lobby? Huh? How?" Silence. He yanked at Abby's messy hair, resulting a sharp gasp from her. "Answer me. Where did you come from?" He thundered, pressing the gun harder against her skull.
Abby whimpered, her eyes tearing up because of the tight grip on her hair. "I-I-I'm not s-saying anything."
Without warning, he suddenly slammed her against the wall, pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. He forced her inside, her head smacking hard against the white wall. He yanked her hands behind her back and forced it together using a zip tie. Abby whimpered, blood slowly trickling down her head.
"P-P-Please." She pleaded, crying quietly.
"That little bruise is nothing compared to what I'm trained for. Now I'm gonna ask you one last time. How did you get here?"
She didn't say anything. He slammed his gun on the side of her face.
"Please!" she cried, tasting the metallic tang of blood on her lips. He raised his arm again.
"-No! Don't. P-Please. Please." She winced. He crouched down and pointed his gun to her head.
"Where?" he whispered in a low, dangerous tone. A pause. He pressed harder against her temple.
"The main function room. I-I came f-from the main function room for the gala." She said in a hoarse whisper, crying.
He grabbed her face forcefully and spat, "Did anyone else come with you?" Abby shook her head.
He let go of her face, hitting the wall again with a thud. She groaned, smearing the wall with blood.
"I know who you are. Everyone single person in this building. I know who you're friends with. I know what you did this morning and what you had for lunch last Monday." He revealed in a low, dangerous tone. "Enlighten me, Miss Whelan, have you seen the President recently, by any chance?"
"Have I?" she said, defiant, wiping the blood off her mouth. "I sure as hell would never te-"
"Have you ever been shot, Miss Whelan?" he snapped. "Would you like to find o-"
The door swung open. Another person in a mask signalled him to come closer. Abby sighed in relief, her head pounding painfully. The men talked in fast, tense whispers. It seemed that something had occurred. After several moments, his partner left.
"Try anything funny and you will never exhale another breath." He thundered. He slammed the door close. She heard the muffled jingle of the keys. A final click of the lock. The heavy pitter-patter of his footsteps becoming fainter. And at last, silence.
Thanks for reading! Thoughts? Should I continue?