[color=silver][center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjgwLjdjNWE0OS5RV0psYkNCWGVXRjBkQS4w/eraser.regular.webp[/img] __________________________________________________[/center] One of the voices returned, though it was impossible to pinpoints its exact source. Abel's best guess was a hidden intercom. It wasn't exactly a surprise that he was being watched, all things considered. He wasn't sure how much of what he heard was worth being paid attention to, much less believed; he [i]would've[/i] expected kidnappers to be a little clearer on their intentions and demands. Alas. Abel couldn't help but fixate on the fact that he wasn't alone, however. If the voice was to be believed, there were three other victims besides him, and he couldn't decide whether that made things better or worse. More victims meant a chance for a united front. But it also meant more premeditation on the kidnappers' part. Better organization. More perpetrators. More [i]danger[/i], even if it apparently came with a ridiculous name like Mr. Wormy Squiggles. [i]Isabella...[/i] Just as Abel's thoughts shifted back to his daughter, her familiar voice rung out from the ball pit, clear as day. Abel reacted reflexively and without much thought, throwing himself into the pit in search for his daughter, even if it was physically impossible for her to be there. He [i]knew [/i]that, but logic had no place in the mind of a desperate father. So he dug and dug, until his hands finally brushed against something other than smooth plastic. As expected, he did not find his daughter. Instead, he found himself holding one of three weird, colourful platypus toys. The pink one, to be precise. Isabella would've loved the pink one. Realizing his efforts had been in vain, Abel was struck by anger and shame both. They must've recorded Isabella's voice. Which meant they [i]did [/i]have her. And they'd made her call out to him... Cursing under his breath, Abel grabbed the pink platypus with both hands and started trying to rip it apart. He fully expected a small speaker to fall out along with the stuffing, and it was that very thing he wanted to destroy. It existing felt like an insult to his daughter, and a taunt to him. Would it improve his situation in any way? No, but he wasn't thinking that far. He was hardly thinking at all. [/color]