L A Y L A   A B R A H A M 

Layla never made it into the office.

No, because that would have been too easy.

When the receptionist had called her name, indicating that she was to go in to see the bank manager regarding the loan for expanding her already establish business, Layla had stood up with a smile on her face, excited.

This was the first step towards becoming her own brand.

Her heels clicked twice against the expensive marble when the ping of the lift resounded from behind her.

She didn't look back. She didn't even think of looking back.

In hindsight, she probably should have.

With her head held high and her briefcase by her side, she took another three steps before the receptionist screamed from behind her.

Startled, Layla paused for a second before she whipped around, her eyes looking for anything that was out of the ordinary, anything that had frightened the lady.

Layla's eyes grew large in size as she took in the sight in front of her.

There were two masked men on the floor that hadn't been there before. The only visible skin were the two holes cut out for their eyes as their bodies were covered in non-descript clothing. It was pretty typical and kind of cliché, but Layla didn't have time to criticise their obvious choice of outfit.

They both had guns in their hand. One of the men had managed to make his way behind the desk and held the receptionist in a choke hold from behind, the gun pressed into her temple. The lady was crying and grabbed at his arms, desperate for him to let go but it was obvious that he was far stronger than she was.

The other man had just walked out of the lift, the gun pointed right at her.

She inhaled and then exhaled.

If Layla had been quicker and if her movements had been swifter, she would have made it into the manager's office by now and perhaps, she would have had more of a chance to protect herself.

She definitely wouldn't have been a deer caught in headlights as she was now, that's for sure.

But right now, with a man standing a few feet away from with a gun following her every move, she was at a loss for words. Her brain scrambled with ideas on how she could possibly get out of this rather sticky situation but her mind fell blank.

The briefcase fell out of her hand and dropped to the floor, clinking against the tiling rather noisily before falling flat on one side. Layla couldn't bring herself to care, or to even tear her eyes away from the man in front of her.

She was afraid that if she looked away then he would shoot at her.

"Oh, my." She heard a voice from behind her. Layla could only assume that this was the manager whom had come out of the office to inspect as to why his receptionist had screamed.

Layla had been really excited to introduce herself to the manager and pitch her business plan not even a minute ago but now, she didn't even dare turn around to greet him.

This was a life or death situation and Layla would very much prefer it if she stayed alive.

The masked man pointing the gun at Layla swiped his arm through the air and then pointed it at the manager; Mr Abignail.

Layla felt relieved that she was no longer the main target, but that didn't last long as the man rushed up to her and grabbed onto her arm, the gun alternating between both her and the manager.

"You don't have to do this," she voiced aloud, her voice nothing but a mere whisper. She looked up at him as he was about half a foot taller than her modest height of 5'4, even with heels on. "If you let us go then we won't tell anyone you were here."

A dark chuckle resounded from behind the material mask. "There's nothing to say," he chuckled, though no one else in the waiting room found his joke humorous. "Now shut up and don't move." He instructed, fiercer now as he tugged on her arm.

His death grip would surely leave a bruise.

Layla winced visibly as he yanked on her unceremoniously, dragging her behind him as he walked towards Mr Abignail, a dark look in his eyes.

"Wait!" Layla screeched.

The masked man turned out and glared at her, his gun still pointed at the bank manager. "Don't make me have to kill you." He warned her, but Layla still reached out and grabbed her fallen briefcase from the ground, regardless. This seemed to have spiked his interest. "What's in that?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and she feared dropping the case again with how clammy her hands were becoming from all the nerves. And it didn't help that her other arm was turning immobile with the way he was stopping her blood circulation. "It's my business plan," she replied meekly.

"You won't need that with where you're going."

She nodded meekly and dropped it to the ground, but made sure to push it under a chair. She would come back for it when this was all over.

If she had the chance.

And so that's how Layla, Mr Abignail and the receptionist all found themselves in the elevator, heading towards the ground floor. The first captor still had a choke hold on the receptionist whom seemed to have given up resisting and had just resorted to sobbing quietly.

Mr Abignail stood stiffly with the gun pressed to the back of his neck, and Layla was stood against his chest as the second captor wound his arm against her waist, keeping her as close to him as possible.

On the way down, she did try to wiggle away from him but he was quick to press the barrel of the gun against the side of her head.

She didn't need to turn and look at him to know that he was glaring at her. "Do that again and your blood will be used to paint the walls."

She gulped and nodded her head.

Momentary relief washed through her when the gun returned towards the neck of the man next to her, but she immediately felt terrible for such a thought.

When the elevator pinged and the doors opened. All three hostages were rushed out of the elevator and herded towards the back of the main floor.

Layla was only able to catch a few glimpses of the main floor before the captor snapped at her. "Walk faster!" He barked, pushing her, but then grabbing her by the arm again when she stumbled in her heels.

Havoc wreaked everywhere. Glass and papers scattered everywhere, tables and chairs unturned, and the most worrying of all, the shutter was brought down over the front of the building, preventing anyone from coming in and out of the bank.

Water stung her eyes when she saw a body lying on top of one of the counters.

Unmoving.

Other than that, there were no people in sight.

They passed all the desks and the customer help points. They walked along a long hallway and down a series of steps. Usually Layla was careful walking up and down stairs when wearing heels, but that day she flew down them.

From what she could make out, there were in the basements. Where the vaults were.

As soon as they reached the open vault, the three hostages were thrown to the ground where all the other people that were cowering on the floor, none of them speaking, all eyes on the group of masked men that were stood in the middle of the vault, whispering amongst themselves quietly.

Three men were stood near the civilians on the ground, their hands on their guns, their eyes scouring the crowd, daring them to step one foot out of line.

Layla sat on both knees, wiping her hands down her skirt, silently cursing herself for wearing a short, tight skirt.

This situation was far from ideal.

And it didn't help that they had taken her wallet, phone and jewellery off her. She had worn her mother's pearl earrings as a form of good luck, but they were gone now and it was not the time to cry over them. That would probably get her into more trouble.

Turning her head to scour her surroundings, she estimated there to be around 15 hostages including herself. There appeared to be an even spread of male and female, not including their captors whom all appeared to be male judging by their height, size and voices, but there really was no telling until those masks came off.

Just like her, they all sat on the ground, looking around them, searching for any possible way of getting themselves out of the situation. Well, there was the exception of two women who were huddled together in the corner, sobbing in each other's arms. They both immediately hushed themselves when one of our captors barked at them, ordering them to shut their mouths.

Layla wasn't even sure if both women even knew each other before they found themselves in this situation.

She didn't recognise anyone in the room. They were all total strangers but from that moment on, they shared one thing in common; their common goal to leave this situation as soon as possible.

Forcing her eyes away from her companions, she faced forward again to watch her captors.

There were eight of them in total. Six of them stood huddled in the middle of the vault, talking amongst themselves in hushed tones while another two stood guard near the hostages, their guns held in their hands, raised and threatening. They were only glocks but Layla still feared for her life.

She recognised one of the men in the huddle to be the one that had pushed her around. Same clothes. Same stance. Same eyes.

A striking blue. Deep like the ocean but empty like his soul.

A shiver passed down her spine as he held eye contact with her before his eyes travelled away from her, paying attention to his colleagues.

Moments passed before the group in the middle dispersed, walking out of the vault. "If they so much as move, shoot them." One of the men called out to the two that they had left behind.

It was difficult to tell which one of the masked men had given the command, but his voice was unwavering and formidable nonetheless.

When they were all gone, a huddle of gym bags and boxes were revealed in the far corner of the room, all seemingly filled to the brim.

It didn't take a genius to know that this was a heist.

They were all just unlucky that they all had been roped in as collateral damage.

Looking up, all the drawers and cabinets in the vault appeared untouched and unopened. Not one was out of place or ajar, but that couldn't be the case if this was indeed what she deemed this to be; a mass robbery.

"Keep your eyes to yourself!" One of the men barked, pressing the nuzzle of his gun into her temple, applying more pressure when she stilled in fear.

Layla gulped and nodded, her eyes trailing down to the ground. Relief washed over her when he merely grunted and returning back to his spot, taking his gun with him.

Hours passed and the number of men had reduced in numbers. Eight became six and six soon became three. The man whom she had recognised to have taken her hostage had left also for she didn't recognise the three that remained guard over them. All the bags had also been taken.

Layla wracked her brain but she couldn't think of a possible explanation as to how the men had managed to leave the building without being undetected. Or even how they had managed to smuggle out that amount of money without raising alarm. Surely there would be an army of policemen waiting outside for them, but they couldn't hear anything from where they were stationed in the vault.

The room was most likely sound proof.

As many of the others had done, Layla laid on the ground, her head resting on her now crumpled up blazer. She cursed herself yet again for wearing a short skirt which just made things far more uncomfortable.

She didn't have a watch on her to tell the time but it felt like she had been stuck down there for days.

It was probably a few hours at most.

Where was their rescue team?

She sighed and opened her eyes, unable to sleep.

Some of the other hostages had fallen asleep. The ones that remained awake were either lying on the ground like her or were sat up, alert.

Layla's eyes lifted and she looked at the man to her immediate left, but neither of them dared to speak. The hostages had learnt the hard way they were not to communicate with each other for when one man had requested that he use the bathroom, he had been beaten until he no longer needed to go. He now sat propped up against the wall with his clothes stained with more than just blood, his face decorated with multiple bruises, a bust-up lip and a black eye. She was sure that she had seen him wince when he moved his arm, but there wasn't anything she could do.

She wished she could help, she truly did, but in that moment, she couldn't even help herself.

Their eyes connected and their unsaid words travelled through the air; they were in this together.

-

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L A Y L A   K N I G H T 

07.06.19