Woman Spots Hand Emerging from Trunk of the Car in Front of Her – Story of the Day

The day before Halloween, Samantha was running errands when a hand appeared from the car trunk she saw before her. Thinking it was a spooky prop, she showed the scene on her live streaming, but her followers quickly pointed out a scary detail.

"What do you guys think? Suzy should probably be a Barbie, but I don't know about dressing Bobby up as Ken," Samantha wondered, moving her hands on the wheel to turn left on the next crossroad.

She was driving to the costume shop in town because her kids didn't have anything to wear yet. It had been an oversight, but her schedule had been full lately. As a mom blogger and stay-at-home wife, she had a lot on her plate.

Her social media and blog site had blown in the last year. Brands were offering her family sponsorships and promotional deals. It was hard to say no to all the offers, but that meant simple things like Halloween had slipped away, even when Samantha could capitalize on it.

Still, she used her errand time to livestream on Instagram and try to get more followers. Her phone was on a special car holder, and she was driving while trying to see comments and answer questions live.

Samantha was also seriously stomped about costumes this year for her two children. Her husband was no help, so it was all up to her.

Barbie is too basic! One user commented.

"I agree. I think everyone will dress as Barbie this year, but it's so cute!" Samantha gushed.

Barbie and Ken is an excellent idea for the kids! Another comment appeared.

"Really? Well, Bobby loves horses, and I think I can do something pretty cool to make both costumes less basic," she nodded and slowly hit the brakes as she reached a stop light. It was the perfect time to check comments more thoroughly.

But from her peripheral vision, Samantha caught sight of a hand coming out of the trunk of the car in front. Or was it always there?

"Oh, guys! People are so clever on Halloween! Check this out," Samantha said on camera and grabbed her phone from the holder, switching the view so her followers could see the car. "The hand is moving and everything. So fun!"

She chuckled a little and placed the camera back on herself. Some people had written other costume options for her kids, but Barbie and Ken seemed cool enough to her. However, several comments started arriving and making her frown.

Call 911!

That's not a Halloween decoration!

Where are you?

Put the camera back so I can see the license plate!

"Guys, what are you talking about? It's obviously something for Halloween," Samantha said, laughing awkwardly as the light turned green. Her phone was back in its docket, and she continued driving. But the comments on the livestream were getting more alarming.

PUT THE CAMERA BACK TO THE CAR!

"Okay, okay," she mumbled and clicked. As was her habit, Samantha began biting her lip. "You guys really think it's more than just Halloween?"

She memorized the license plate immediately and reached for her purse on the passenger side seat.

IT'S REAL! A FAKE HAND DOESN'T MOVE!

"Maybe it's something elaborate," she continued, not wanting this to be real. For a second, she debated switching off her livestream. But wasn't it better to keep going so the evidence could help later? Her hands had grabbed her second phone.

The one on the live stream – the main one – was the latest model with the best camera she could find for pictures and videos like this. The other was used for calls, especially when her main one was busy.

Another stoplight came, and Samantha's eyes almost bugged out as the trunk opened a little further, and a figure started coming out.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed. Instinctively, Samantha began to honk and flash her headlights at the front car. But the man started going when the light turned green. The figure in the trunk was spooked, and she had to stop blaring the horn for a second.

Meanwhile, Samantha noticed that the driver was strangely going in the same direction as the Halloween shop, so she started blaring her horn again and trying to annoy him with the headlights.

The figure in the trunk began to move around again. Finally, a blonde piece of hair could be seen, and Samantha realized it was a young woman or teenager. She was trying to lift the opening, but it was too heavy for some reason.

"He must have drugged her," Samantha said. The words had slipped out as she had forgotten about the livestream. "Oh, sh—"

Finally, her eyes went back to see more panicked comments. Her followers were in a rage.

SAMANTHA! DON'T FOLLOW HIM!

TELL US THE STREET NAME AND DIRECTION!

I HAVE 911 ON THE PHONE! WHERE ARE YOU?

Suddenly, the man made a sharp maneuver, swerving to the side of the road, and stopped. Samantha didn't understand what he was doing, so she did the same and parked behind him. When the driver got out, she knew she had made a mistake.

He wasn't wearing a mask or anything to indicate he was playing a prank on people. But she almost wished he was using a Freddy Kruger or Michael Myers costume because the actual look on his face was even worse. He had the eyes of the truly soulless.

Any horror fan knows that real life is a million times scarier. Only movies that can tap into things that could happen are genuinely frightening. Slashers, gore films, and zombie apocalypses were mostly funny to Samantha.

But this man…had the look of unconcealed evil…and for some reason, Samantha stared instead of driving off. The man didn't look at her car at first. He went straight to the trunk, saw the figure trying to come out again, and forced her back inside.

The trunk slam came next, making Samantha blanch in her seat. Her phone started pinging, but she couldn't pay attention because the man's eyes finally caught her, and he stalked to the driver's side window like the most dangerous predator.

She should've backed the car and taken off, but again, something was stopping her, like a hero instinct in her body. Perhaps it was her maternal side, as the girl in the trunk was someone's daughter and loved one.

Her car locks were on, and Samantha wouldn't open the door or the window for him in a million years. Instead, she returned to honking – a loud, annoying noise that finally brought other people's attention. She couldn't hear anyone outside with her windows up and the horn blasting, but a couple stopped.

Lip-reading wasn't her forte, but Samantha thought the man asked, "Is there a problem here?" The woman at his side was reaching for her phone.

Finally, Samantha turned to look straight into the man's eyes as her second phone began to ring, demanding her attention. She wouldn't look away, though. They were in a staring match. For a second, she wondered if the man was strong enough to break the window and hurt her.

But the horn kept attracting attention. Other passersby were approaching, and the kidnapper knew he would be cornered if he didn't take off right then. He gave Samantha one last glare, lifting a corner of his mouth, and sprinted to his car.

Some pedestrians tried to stop him, but they weren't fast enough. Once again, she had a choice to make. One look at her livestream told her what her followers wanted her to do: STOP FOLLOWING HIM!

But Samantha couldn't. That girl or young woman was in even more trouble, so she stopped honking and drove, mindless in her pursuit of the car. Her second phone rang again, and she finally dared to answer.

A horrified voice blasted through the speakerphone, "SAMANTHA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" her husband, Colin, shouted.

"I'm just driving, dear," Samantha responded, trying to make light of things.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SAMANTHA?" Colin continued. "Everyone's calling me! I saw that man on the livestream. What are you doing? Is this a Halloween prank?"

"Colin," she started, swallowing. "I don't know what I'm doing. I can't seem to stop. I'm…I'm just thinking that the girl or woman in the trunk is someone's daughter, and he's going to hurt her. I can't stop driving."

"SAMANTHA! STOP RIGHT NOW! PULL OVER!" he demanded, but she shook her head, thinking he may still be watching her livestream.

"No, I don't want her to die and become another statistic," Samantha said, breathing deeply and continuing. "I thought it was a Halloween prank. How many people get kidnapped and murdered at this time of year? It may be more blatant than we know."

"Samantha, this man is not doing this because it's Halloween," her husband said, frustrated. "He's a psycho. That's all. Please, pull over and call 911."

"My followers have already done that," Samantha said, shaking her head. Her eyes turned to the livestream, which had grown exponentially in viewers.

LISTEN TO YOUR HUSBAND!

Sam, stop the car!

Don't be a hero!

I called the police and gave them the license plate!

"I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID FOLLOWERS! Samantha, stop the livestream right now, pull over, and call the cops."

"I AM NOT STOPPING THE LIVESTREAM!" she finally yelled back. "It's evidence! I will get that guy, or at least try to help the girl!"

"ARGH!" her husband screamed unintelligibly. "Samantha, you're a mom. You're going to get murdered! Please, baby. Stop. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. I won't stop," Samantha insisted stubbornly. "If something happens—"

"SAMANTHA FRANCIS CA—"

"TELL THE KIDS I LOVE THEM!" she interrupted Colin while he screamed her full name and hung up the phone. Throwing it haphazardly on the passenger's seat, she took off behind the kidnapper's car.

Her eyes had to stay entirely on the road to keep up with the car in front, so she missed the panic of her followers and the rising count of viewers. But the sound of silence inside her own vehicle gave her some time to consider what she was doing.

It was reckless, stupid, and ridiculous. Samantha didn't know where they were going or what that man was capable of, but something in her soul kept her on track. The small glimpse of that girl in the truck spurred her further.

She thought about Suzy, picturing her in that situation and what Samantha would do to get her back. She was capable of anything regarding her children, and someone should be there for that poor girl, too.

However, her mind cleared a little on the drive, and it was time for her to call 911, too. Samantha heaved a sigh before reaching for her second phone and dialing. The operator answered, and she told them her name and what was happening.

"Oh! The woman on the livestream! Thank God you called!" the operator said. "We've had several calls already. Tell me what's happening."

"Well...hmm…right now, I'm just following him. He's not driving fast. I think he's scared of getting stopped while we're still in town," Samantha explained. "So, I'll keep up as best I can."

"Ma'am," the operator started. "I'm going to need you to pull over and stop following him. Tell me where you are and where he's headed."

She ignored the first sentence and answered the second one. Then, she pondered the direction for a second. "I thought he was heading toward the Halloween shop — you know, the big one — but he just passed it. Oh, a turn."

Samantha swerved to keep up and hoped that no cops would stop her. They needed to get him. "Ma'am! I told you to stop."

"I know, but I can't," she said.

The 911 operator sighed heavily, but she wasn't emotional like Samantha's husband. She became practical. "Okay, Samantha, tell me everything. I have people dispatched, but there seems to be another issue holding many of our officers back."

"What?" Samantha asked. "No! That woman was kidnapped! They need to get where we're going fast!"

"I know. I know. Just tell me what's happening, and don't hang up the phone."

"OMG!" Samantha exclaimed. "I think I know where he's going!"

"Where?" the operator insisted, but Samantha stayed quiet as she concentrated on the road.

Her eyes wandered briefly to her phone, and her followers were now divided between those who wanted her safe and those who wanted to keep watching.

SAMANTHA, THINK OF YOUR KIDS!

Samantha! You're the bravest person! More of us should be like you!

GET THAT MAN!

Please, God. Let the cops reach them soon!

They couldn't see her. The camera was turned to the road for a while, and she wouldn't change that. It was evidence. Although, maybe her car's black box would suffice. Is it working? She had no idea.

Samantha's eyes returned to the car in front, and once again, the girl had reached out her hand. There must be something faulty with that car trunk. But that poor girl was too weak to move much. Maybe she was also tied and couldn't simply jump.

If she did, Samantha wouldn't have much time to stop as close as she was following. But she would try to dodge and get the girl in her car. Yes, that's the best-case scenario. I can try to get her in the car quickly while the man doesn't notice the difference.

"Come on. Come on. Come on." Samantha prayed for the girl to find enough strength to jump, and subconsciously, her car slowed down and separated a bit from the kidnapper's.

"MA'AM!" the 911 operator yelled, interrupting Samantha's concentration and her vision of rescuing the girl without having that evil man so nearby.

"What?" she said, distracted.

"Where are they going?" the operator insisted almost angrily.

Samantha realized she never told her the direction. Yeah, that was stupid. "He's going to the junkyard! We're almost there!"

"The junkyard is closed this week."

"What? Why?" Samantha wondered although it wasn't that important.

"It's privately owned now. And people get crazy on Halloween. The story is that they don't work the entire week and close the whole thing down to prevent kids and others from going inside, looking for parts for costumes, or getting into trouble."

"Oh," Samantha thought. It made sense, although there were plenty of haunted houses in their town. "Well, that's good, right? Whatever he's planning won't work."

"I don't know," the operator commented. "Can you describe him to me?"

"Didn't you run his license plates? They're right there, clear as day on my feed," she said, confused.

"We did. But they're stolen plates, hon," the woman replied. "They're supposed to belong to an old woman named Katherine with a yellow Beetle."

"Oh no," Samantha muttered, frowning at the car in front. It was far from a yellow Beetle.

Suddenly, the road changed as they reached the edge of town and the junkyard. Just as the operator said, the heavy gates were closed. "We're here," she whispered to the operator, slowing her car to a stop as the man went straight to the locked gates.

Does he have a key? Should I run my car over him if he comes down?

"Okay, Samantha. That's the end of this for you. Stay in your car because the cops are on their way," the 911 operator said carefully as if speaking to a cornered animal.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Samantha exclaimed as her hands left the steering wheel to cover her mouth.

The man's vehicle had rammed into the gates and destroyed them. He drove through the crumpled metal, making a grating sound, and entered the area.

"What happened, Samantha?"

"Omg! Look at the livestream! I have no time to tell you anything!" Samantha snapped at the operator. "You know what? The cops are coming. You don't need me on the phone! Thanks! Bye!"

She hung up, removed her seat belt quickly, although it wasn't cooperating so well, and got out of the car. Her van wouldn't be able to make it through the crumpled metal, so she started walking. "Oh, shoot!" Samantha said and went back, grabbing the phone with the livestream., leaving the other one behind.

The comments were once again scary for her.

DON'T GO IN THERE!

YOU'LL GET MURDERED!

THE COPS ARE COMING!

YOU'RE ACTING LIKE EVERY LEAD IN A HORROR MOVIE!"

Samantha almost laughed at that comment. They were right. She had no idea what she was doing. Her mind knew that she should have stayed far away. It knew remaining in the car was the best idea since she was there. But her body kept going.

"Guys," Samantha swallowed, addressing her followers for the first time in a while. "I know what I'm doing is insane. I know it logically. But I can't let go. I'll never make fun of horror movie ladies again. This thing I feel is so hard to explain. It's a drive to help. But thank you for your concern. I'm going to keep recording, just in case."

After getting through the crunched metal, Samantha sprinted inside the junkyard. The scene was eerie, with the heavy scent of oil, smoke, and iron in the air. The man's car was nowhere to be seen, but it made sense as she realized the junkyard was built like a maze.

"Hey, guys," she continued speaking on her stream. "Where should I go?"

HOME!

Many users repeated that sentiment, making Samantha sigh. "Guys, I already said I'm not leaving, so please. Give me advice now that I'm here."

Be really quiet.

Look at the floor for tracks.

"It's completely dry. I don't know if there will be tire tracks," she murmured but still looked down. The floor was dry as bone. However, it was broad daylight, and there was a clear marking in the gravel mixed with dust. "Wait, I see something."

Samantha had no way to tell if those tracks were new or old, but she followed them, intent on not getting lost in the maze. She also tried to remember landmarks. If she could get the girl out of the trunk, they would need to know where to go and do it quickly.

Her feet took on a steady sprint, as she didn't want to fall either. Nothing in sight, but the tracks went to a similar place. Perhaps every car that came here had to go somewhere specific before they could get on with business.

She flinched as the sound of her sneakers touched the gravel, but there was nothing she could do. The maze seemed to go on and on. No one was around. No workers. No owners. It was just as the 911 operator said.

But after ten minutes of walking around, Samantha reached a small hut, and the car was parked next door. She halted immediately and leaned on a corner, accidentally touching the pile of scrap metal. "Ew," she flinched and wiped her hands on her jeans.

Her eyes went to her phone again.

WHY HASN'T THE POLICE ARRIVED? THIS IS INSANE!

SAM, DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!

PLEASE, GO BACK! IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!

IS THIS A HALLOWEEN PRANK?

She looked away from her phone and back at the car. Based on the stillness and the lack of movement, they vacated the car after a while. Samantha sprinted on tiptoe to the vehicle, hiding in case the man was inside the hut.

As suspected, the car was empty, but she still went to the trunk, trying to be quick. The latch released quickly, and her chest jumped. It was empty.

"Oh, no," Samantha sighed, shaking her head. Out of habit, she rechecked the comments.

SAM, THE GIRL IS NOT THERE! PLEASE LEAVE NOW!

WHERE ARE THE COPS?

I'M DYING HERE!

ANSWER YOUR PHONE!!!

The last comment was from Colin, but her second phone was safely stored in the car. The one in her hand had calls blocked. Samantha felt a pang of guilt for the worry she was causing him, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Against her better judgment and desires, she had to find the man and the girl. She closed the trunk again and looked around. The hut was empty, too, and everything around her seemed desolate, too.

But out of the blue, a screeching, ear-splitting noise made her jump. Her hands flew to her ears, dropping her phone as she recoiled from the sound. Samantha focused after a few seconds, picked up her phone, and started running.

It was coming from somewhere beside the hut. The sound got louder and more confusing as Samantha got closer. "What is that, guys?" she asked, not whispering but still trying to be discreet.

I HAVE NO IDEA, BUT IT'S A NOPE FOR ME!

IMMEDIATELY NO. IMMEDIATELY NO!

IT'S A METAL CRUSHER! SAM, RUN!!

Fear hit her chest, freezing her. A metal crusher? Her eyes closed at the thought. Was he putting… No, no, no. Stop.

Samantha shook her head and felt a stray tear coming out. "I have to keep going," she said, not trying to convince her followers but herself. Her feet started walking as she opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings.

She reached the machine, but the man was nowhere in sight. There was no blood or sign that anyone was using it. It was just running. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to find a way to stop it.

Something — a movement from the periphery, a crunch of boots on rocks, or the pure hate emanating in her direction — alerted her just in time. The man with the same horrible face Samantha had seen earlier was about to jump and grab her. But she moved quickly, avoiding his grasp.

"Come here!" he growled.

"Where's the girl?" she asked, stepping farther away from his reach.

The man yelled an expletive and rushed to grab her again. At that moment, Samantha was glad for her yoga, Pilates, and hours spent on the elliptical. She was much quicker. Her speed was her only advantage, as she had time to see his whole frame.

The evil man was built, although lean. He would overpower her quickly, so her best bet was to run. But where? Was the girl dead?

"The cops are on their way!" Samantha threatened, although her shaky voice took away some of the fierceness she wanted to convey.

"Uh-huh," the man taunted, launching to one side, but Samantha kept retreating. "I don't hear anything."

Her followers had echoed the same sentiment. It was…more than a little strange, but she couldn't get distracted by anything.

"They are coming! Where is the girl?" She added a little more strength to her voice.

The man shrugged, fully smiling. "What girl?"

Samantha's eyes widened. Had she been too late? Should she have driven through instead of walking into the junkyard? Did he hurt her faster because she had been following?

"You know what I'm talking about. Tell me where you hid her, and I tell the cops you ran off. I won't even tell them your description," Samantha insisted, watching his every move to swerve and avoid his grasp.

"Lady, you don't understand the situation you're in," he started, sporting a slight smirk. "The cops won't care about this girl. You will simply be gone… somewhere in the wind where no one will ever see you again."

His words were meant to intimidate and confuse her. She knew that, logically, but something about his low tenor and the smirk on his purely evil face made the message much worse.

"You won't get me," she shook her head and tried to smirk, too. "What's the girl's name? At least tell me that!"

He barked a booming laugh, but it wasn't the kind of warm sound that a grandfather or uncle would utter. It all sounded wrong. This man or person was almost…inhuman.

"How the heck should I know? I bet the cops couldn't even recognize her," he responded after his laughter died. "Lady, you've wasted your time, and you won't get away from here, so be a good girl." He launched at Samantha, but she swerved, and their macabre dance continued.

She desperately wanted to check the comments on the livestream for advice. Oh! The livestream!

"Thousands of people on the internet already have your face. They'll get your name, and you'll get busted sooner or later," Samantha said, feeling smug. "I streamed the whole thing. You pushed the girl back into the trunk. I'm still streaming now. No matter what happens to me, you're going to jail!"

She finally pointed the camera back at him. This entire time, it had been at her side, as she couldn't focus on her phone and avoid him simultaneously. However, Samantha carefully put him on blast, and his smirk disappeared.

He hadn't noticed her phone and immediately launched for it. She finally ran away, gaining speed. She was fast because of her petite body and fitness routine, but the man was stronger. Samantha turned between the scrap metal towers, knowing he was following, and circled back to the hut.

The door was locked, but she placed herself against the car, and the man approached her. But their dance began again. "TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!!" Samantha demanded.

"Gone!" the man replied, laughing as his breaths came in puffs. "What do you think I was doing with that crusher?"

"You're lying," she whispered, moving around the car to match his actions. Despite her bravado, her heart broke. Am I really too late?

"That's what you think," he shrugged again. "I really don't care. But I will enjoy throwing you in it a lot more."

"You will never get me."

"Hmmm…maybe I won't do that so soon. You didn't let me have my fun," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "I would take my time earlier, but you had to interrupt. So, since you wanted to be a hero, you will be in her place instead."

Samantha couldn't stop the gulp in the throat, and he chuckled. "You won't touch me," she said, still pretending to be brave.

"You won't be able to run much longer. She couldn't run either, and now, she's gone," the man said. "Except, this will be much sweeter. That girl…well, no one will miss her. You…you look like a soccer mom."

Her eyes widened.

"Ah, yes. A mom…hmmm, and a wife?" his eyes squinted as his smirk grew again. "Hmm, going after your family is a bit of a stretch… but maybe…"

"SHUT UP!" Samantha yelled, and her instinct this time wasn't to run away. It was to reach for the man and beat him to a pulp. She lamented not being as big as Colin and hated that so many men like him got away with hurting girls and women.

The man used her moment of distraction to grab her shoulders. "NO! NO! ARGH! HELP!" she shouted, but no one could hear her. One hand lifted and slapped the phone away from her hand. "NO!"

She kicked and screamed, but it was no use. As she suspected, he was too strong to overpower her, and… he was pulling her to his car trunk. No, no, no, no, no….

"Don't touch her!" a weak voice came from behind them, and the girl who had been locked had a pipe in her hands and swung it at the kidnapper's head.

The crunching almost resembled the metal crusher machine, and the man bellowed in agony, dropping Samantha immediately. She refused to get distracted by the hollowing. She ran to her phone and quickly went back to the girl.

"Come on," she said, breathless. "My car is outside. We have to get out of here!"

"I don't know if I can walk," the girl said, and she was right. Samantha noted that she was paler than a ghost, and the swing of the metal pipe had taken all her strength.

"What's your name?"

"Ally."

"Ally, we have to try. You already saved me. I have to continue saving you," Samantha said and placed her hand around the young woman's waist. They started at a steady but slow pace.

However, the hollowing behind them meant the man was still incapacitated, although Samantha knew that could change at any second. She remembered her stream again and lifted the phone to her face.

"Everyone, this is Ally, the girl in the trunk," Samantha told them as they kept moving. "We're getting out of the junkyard. I don't hear sirens. I don't know why the cops haven't arrived. But I'll try to get to a hospital soon."

Samantha kept pushing Ally, who was doing her best, but it was hard. "Did he drug you?"

"I think so," she responded, concentrating on her steps.

"Well, I'm taking you to the hospital," Samantha promised.

"You followed him?"

"I saw your hand from the trunk of the car," she replied.

"But that was dangerous." Ally coughed.

"I know. But I thought of my daughter, and I just acted," Samantha said. They stopped talking, concentrating all their effort on getting to the car outside.

Once again, she held hope that the cops would be there. But no sirens could be heard. This was unbelievable. She had been in that junkyard for over 20 minutes. It was plenty of time… especially since many people had called 911 before Samantha did.

"There's the gates," she pointed, hoping to egg Ally on. "Let's try to go faster."

"Yeah, okay," the young woman smiled. Her feet started going faster.

Samantha was rejoicing. They got through the crushed metal fence and kept going. Seeing her car felt like the most beautiful moment of her life. It meant safety. It was meant success.

"Come on. Come on. Come on," she urged, reaching the vehicle and opening the back seat door. "Get in and lay down. You're safe now."

Samantha buckled Ally's seat and closed the door, taking one moment to breathe deeply. It was quick, but she shouldn't have stopped at all. Big hands wrapped around her torso and neck.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY FROM ME!" the man screamed in her ear, making her dizzy.

"ALLY! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Samantha screamed, but the girl inside her car had slumped and looked deeply asleep. Using all her strength, she kicked and squirmed…to no avail.

"NO ONE IS GONNA SAVE YOU!" he yelled again, pulling her back.

She prayed to all and any gods that the police would finally get there, as she the junkyard again. Of course, his car is still inside. Why didn't he take my car?

"TIME TO SHUT THIS THING!" the kidnapped said and slapped her phone away from her hand again. It landed screen-side up.

And finally, Samantha knew her situation was more dire than she imagined. Ally wouldn't be able to save her. The cops had apparently forsaken them in this junkyard. Suzy and Bobby would lose their mom...NO!

"ARGH!" she shouted a strong battle cry and bit deeply into the man's arms.

He screamed a stream of expletives and dropped her for a second, but Samantha didn't have time to stand and run. He had grabbed her hair to keep her back, and the pain was too sharp.

"AGGH NO! NOT THIS TIME!"

They reached his car, and he lifted Samantha into the trunk with more ease than she had imagined. He closed it tightly, and darkness wrapped around her. The engine was on a second later, and soon, she was bumped around in the small space with almost no air.

Her hands reached everywhere, trying to find a way to open the trunk as Ally had done. She did. It seemed the kidnapper didn't know the trunk had a problem. But as Samantha tried to get out, the man stomped on the brakes, pushing her back into the interior, and the trunk door closed.

She tried again as the sirens could finally be heard, getting closer…but this time, Samantha couldn't find the way to open the trunk and get out. Worst of all, the sirens lowered as they were out of the junkyard and off… into the wind.

***

"After Mrs. Carter dropped her phone, her followers only got a glimpse of the man pulling her away before the screen showed the pure blue sky on that fateful October 30," a true-crime podcaster, Kyle, said, slowing and lowering her voice.

"But comments kept coming, desperate to know what happened," the podcaster's co-host, Jason, added.

"'Where are the cops?' many asked. Others wrote, 'Samantha, please tell us you're okay,'" Kyle continued.

Jason took over. "Many hoped that Samantha had played an elaborate Halloween prank to get more attention on her social media. But it wasn't."

"Her husband spent months looking for her before moving his family to another state," Kyle said as they were alternating telling the story.

"Mrs. Carter was never seen again," Jason finished. "And the woman she rescued… well, that's a big mystery for another time…"

"That's all, folks! Hope you enjoyed this episode," Kyle said, becoming more animated. "Please subscribe, like, and leave us a comment. What do you think? Should Mrs. Carter have stayed away? What do you think happened with the cops? Why did they take so long?"

"Remember, we'll be live on Twitch talking about this episode on Sunday!" Jason added. "You don't want to miss it because we have an exclusive about Ally!" He and Kyle said their signing-off outro and stopped recording.

Kyle sighed heavily and twisted his hands around his neck. "Another one down," he chuckled but stopped when he looked at Jason's face. "What?"

"I'm a little bummed, man."

"Why?"

"This story."

"This isn't the worst story we've told."

"It's still so… yuck, dude," Jason continued, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose. "I don't know why people like this stuff."

"Me neither, but they do. Look at our followers!" Kyle said, beaming.

"These are real stories, man," his co-hoster muttered, becoming more upset.

"I know. But dude, we just tell people these things. Like reporters do," Kyle said, trying to appease him. "We mean no harm. We don't make fun of these things. And if someone can avoid some kind of trouble because of our stories, then isn't that a good thing?"

"It sucks."

"We need money if we want to quit our job. To get money, we need more followers," Kyle snapped, rolling his eyes. "This is real life. It's not daisies and happy endings."

"Ugh, you're an idiot," Jason scoffed and meant to leave their homemade studio but stopped. "Wait, I know I read the script. But what is the exclusive about Ally?"

"It's a secret," Kyle said, smirking slightly.

"Come on, dude."

"Well, I've been digging on the dates… and Ally was never taken to the hospital," Kyle said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"The livestream ended with a cop lifting the phone and turning it off," he continued, "and Ally was just gone, too. The press barely reported anything, even when she had thousands of people who witnessed it. It was swept under the rug. No one knows this story at all!"

"Why?" Jason asked, confused.

"That's what we're going to find out."

"Oh, so we're not podcasters now. We're detectives."

"Maybe. Whatever gets us more followers," Kyle said, pursing his lips.

"Ugh…people are way too obsessed about a number on their screen," Jason shook his head and left the studio.

"Numbers on the screen mean dollars in the bank," Kyle whispered cockily as he clicked his keyboard, trying to find out more about that case for his live show.

He didn't know it yet, but Kyle really shouldn't have dug deeper...

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