The escapist’s trail
The kidnapper’s silhouette was fleeting, merging with the trees and darkness as he made his escape. Left behind was a trail of broken twigs and trampled underbrush, a silent testament to the night’s events. In his haste, he had left clues, unwitting breadcrumbs that beckoned us to follow. The police were quick to pursue, their flashlights cutting swaths through the night as they chased the vanishing specter of our tormentor.