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Câu chuyện MidReal
From Accountant to Outlaw: Emily's Descent
Bối cảnh:A woman pushed to the brink of madness goes on a crime spree after she snaps. She goes from prim and proper accountant to crazed gun toting thug. Join her as she runs from the authorities and goes on an adrenaline fueled rampage,indulging in whatever fiendish whim strikes her.
Tạo phiên bản của tôi cho câu chuyện này
Emily Hart
thug accountant, no direct relationships, petite with sharp eyes, cunning and desperate
Lisa Chen
former coworker turned reluctant accomplice, friend of Emily, sleek black hair and nervous eyes, conflicted and fearful
Marcus Flynn
police detective on her trail, adversary of Emily, tall with a stern face, determined and relentless
I never thought I’d be the one to rob a bank.
I’m an accountant for Christ’s sake.
My job is to keep people from going to jail, not put them there.
But here I am, standing in the middle of my office with a gun in my hand and a bag full of money at my feet.
The vault door is still hanging open behind me, but I don’t have time to grab any more cash.
I need to get out of here before the cops show up.
I take one last look around the room, trying to memorize every detail, every face, every smell.
This place has been my home for the last five years, and now it’s all going up in smoke.
But I can’t afford to be sentimental right now.
I have bigger problems to deal with.
Grabbing the bag off the floor, I turn and run out the door, down the hall, and out of the building.
The sun is already setting as I step outside, casting long shadows across the parking lot.
I never thought I’d be the one to rob a bank.
I’m an accountant for Christ’s sake.
My job is to keep people from going to jail, not put them there.
But here I am, standing in the middle of my office with a gun in my hand and a bag full of money at my feet.
The vault door is still hanging open behind me, but I don’t have time to grab any more cash.
I need to get out of here before the cops show up.
I take one last look around the room, trying to memorize every detail, every face, every smell.
This place has been my home for the last five years, and now it’s all going up in smoke.
But I can’t afford to be sentimental right now.
I have bigger problems to deal with.
Grabbing the bag off the floor, I turn and run out the door, down the hall, and out of the building.
The sun is already setting as I step outside, casting long shadows across the parking lot.
My heart pounds in my chest like a drumbeat.
I glance back over my shoulder.
No one’s following me yet.
Good.
I need every second I can get.
“Emily!” someone shouts from behind me.
I freeze for a split second before turning around.
It’s Mark, my coworker.
His eyes are wide with shock and confusion.
“What the hell are you doing?” he yells.
“I don’t have time to explain,” I say, my voice trembling.
“I need to go.”
“Are you out of your mind?” he asks, stepping closer.
“You’re going to get caught!”
“Just stay out of it, Mark,” I snap.
“This isn’t your problem.”
He looks like he wants to argue more, but I don’t wait for him to make up his mind.
I turn and sprint towards my car.
The gravel crunches under my feet as I run.
I fumble with my keys when I reach the car door.
My hands are shaking so badly that it takes me three tries to unlock it.
Finally, I yank the door open and throw the bag onto the passenger seat.
“Emily!” Mark’s voice rings out again, closer this time.
I jump into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut.
My fingers fumble over the ignition switch as I try to start the car.
Come on, come on!
The engine roars to life just as Mark reaches my window.
He bangs on the glass with his fist.
“Don’t do this!” he pleads.
But it’s too late for that.
I hit the gas pedal and peel out of the parking lot, leaving him standing there in a cloud of dust.
As I speed down the road, my mind races with a thousand thoughts.
What have I done?
Where am I going?
But there’s no time for second-guessing now.
I need to focus on getting as far away from here as possible.
The city streets blur past me as I drive faster and faster.
Every siren in the distance makes me flinch.
The adrenaline from the robbery still courses through my veins.
I glance in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see police lights flashing behind me.
But there's nothing—just the empty road stretching out into the darkness.
My phone buzzes on the passenger seat.
I hesitate for a moment before picking it up.
The screen shows Lisa’s name.
Great, just what I need right now.
I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Hello?"
"Emily, what the hell is going on?" Lisa's voice is shaky, almost pleading.
"I saw the news. They said you robbed a bank! Why? What happened?"
I grip the phone tighter, feeling a surge of anger and frustration.
"Lisa, there's no turning back now," I snap.
"You wouldn't understand."
"But Emily—"
I hang up abruptly and throw the phone onto the passenger seat.
Ahead, I spot an abandoned gas station.
Its neon sign flickers weakly in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the cracked pavement.
I pull over, deciding to lay low for a moment.
The car engine hums softly as I sit there, my mind racing with plans for my next move.
I scan the area; it's completely deserted.
Perfect.
I step out of the car and stretch my legs, feeling the cool night air against my skin.
The gas station looks like it hasn't been used in years.
Weeds grow through the cracks in the concrete, and the windows are covered in grime.
I walk over to one of the old gas pumps and lean against it, trying to catch my breath.
What now?
Where do I go from here?
Suddenly, a noise breaks the silence—a rustling sound coming from behind one of the dumpsters near the building.
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest again.
"Who's there?" I call out, trying to keep my voice steady.
A figure steps out from behind the dumpster—a man in his late forties, with unkempt hair and dirty clothes.
He raises his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Hey, hey, I'm not looking for trouble," he says.
"Just needed a place to sleep."
I relax slightly but keep my guard up.
"What's your name?"
"Tom," he replies.
"And you?"
"Emily," I say cautiously.
"I'm just passing through."
Tom nods and takes a step closer.
"You look like you could use some help."
I laugh bitterly.
"Yeah? And what makes you think that?"
He shrugs.
"Call it a hunch."
For a moment, we stand there in silence, sizing each other up.
Finally, I sigh and run a hand through my hair.
"Look, Tom, I'm in some deep shit right now. I don't have time for this."
He nods again.
"I get it. But if you need a place to hide out for a while... there's an old shed out back. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."
I consider his offer for a moment before nodding reluctantly.
"Alright. Thanks."
Tom leads me around the side of the building to a small wooden shed hidden behind some overgrown bushes.
He pushes open the door with a creak and gestures for me to enter.
Inside, it's dark and musty, but at least it's shelter.
I drop my bag on the floor and sit down on an old crate.
Tom lingers in the doorway for a moment before speaking again.
"If you need anything... I'll be around."
I nod silently as he leaves me alone in the shed.
As I sit there in the darkness, listening to the distant sounds of night creatures and rustling leaves, I try to formulate a plan.
But before I can think too much about it, headlights sweep across the front of the gas station.
My heart leaps into my throat as I scramble to peek through a crack in the shed wall.
A black SUV pulls up to one of the pumps and stops abruptly.
Two men get out—both wearing dark suits and sunglasses despite it being night.
They start walking towards my car parked nearby.
My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure they can hear it.
The men in suits scan the area methodically, their eyes sharp and calculating.
One of them points towards the shed, and I crouch lower, trying to make myself as small as possible.
Sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes.
Footsteps crunch on the gravel, growing louder with each step.
My mind races, calculating my options.
Should I run? Stay hidden? Confront them?
Suddenly, the shed door creaks open.
I lunge forward, gun aimed at the intruder's head.
"Tom?" I whisper-shout, recognizing him in the dim light.
He holds a finger to his lips and whispers urgently, "They haven't seen you yet. Stay quiet."
I nod, my eyes darting to the men outside.
They’re getting closer to my car.
Tom steps inside and closes the door as quietly as possible.
"We need to move," he whispers. "They'll find you here eventually."
I glance around the shed, looking for another way out.
There’s a small window at the back, barely big enough for me to squeeze through.
"That window," I whisper back. "Can we get out that way?"
Tom nods. "It’s our best shot."
We move quickly but silently towards the window.
Tom helps me climb up first.
I push against the frame, feeling it give way slightly before finally popping open.
The cool night air rushes in.
I wriggle through the narrow opening and drop to the ground outside.
Tom follows right behind me.
We crouch low behind some bushes, watching as the men continue their search near my car.
"We need to get out of here," Tom says quietly. "Do you have a plan?"
I shake my head. "Not really. Just keep moving and stay hidden."
Tom nods in agreement. "Alright. Follow me."
We move through the overgrown bushes, keeping low and quiet.
The night is dark and filled with the sounds of crickets and distant traffic.
Every rustle of leaves makes my heart jump.
After what feels like an eternity, we reach a small clearing with an old dirt road leading away from the gas station.
Tom stops and looks around cautiously before turning to me.
"This road leads to an old farmhouse," he says. "It's abandoned now, but it should be safe for a while."
I nod gratefully. "Lead the way."
We start down the dirt road, moving quickly but carefully.
The moonlight casts eerie shadows across our path, making everything look surreal.
As we walk, I can't help but glance back over my shoulder every few minutes, half-expecting to see those men in suits following us.
But there's nothing—just darkness and silence.
Finally, after what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, we reach the farmhouse.
It's old and dilapidated, with broken windows and a sagging roof.
But it’s shelter.
Tom pushes open the creaky front door and gestures for me to enter first.
Inside, it's dark and musty, just like the shed had been.
But there’s more space here—more places to hide if necessary.
"We should be safe here for now," Tom says quietly as he closes the door behind us.
I nod silently and drop my bag on an old wooden table covered in dust.
My mind races with thoughts of what comes next—how long we can stay hidden here before we have to move again.
But before I can think too much about it, headlights sweep across one of the broken windows.
My heart leaps into my throat as I scramble to peek through a crack in the wall.
The same black SUV from before pulls up, and I realize with a sinking feeling that we've been followed.
"Tom," I whisper urgently, grabbing his arm. "We need to move. Now."
He nods, eyes wide with understanding.
We dart towards the back door, our footsteps echoing in the empty farmhouse.
As soon as we step outside, the dense woods loom ahead of us like a dark, tangled maze.
We sprint into the trees, branches scratching our faces and snagging our clothes.
The forest floor is uneven, making every step a potential hazard.
My mind races with fear and determination.
We can't get caught now.
Behind us, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps closing in.
Panic surges through me, but I force myself to stay focused.
"Over here!" I hiss to Tom, spotting an old well partially hidden by overgrown bushes.
We scramble towards it, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Tom peers down into the well. "It's deep," he whispers. "But it's our best shot."
I nod, swallowing hard. "Let's go."
We lower ourselves quietly into the well, using the rough stones as makeshift steps.
The air inside is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat outside.
We reach a narrow ledge about ten feet down and crouch there, holding our breath.
Above us, the men's voices grow louder as they search the area.
Every sound is amplified in the silence of our hiding spot—the rustle of leaves, the crunch of gravel underfoot.
"Spread out," one of them orders. "They can't have gone far."
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to be invisible.
Tom's hand finds mine in the darkness, offering a small measure of comfort.
Minutes stretch into what feels like hours as we remain hidden in the well.
The tension is palpable, each second dragging on painfully.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the voices begin to fade.
I exhale slowly, daring to hope that they've moved on.
Tom squeezes my hand gently. "We need to wait a bit longer," he whispers. "Just to be sure."
I nod silently, my heart still pounding in my chest.
As we sit there in the darkness, listening intently for any sign of danger, I can't help but wonder how much longer we can keep running.
But for now, all that matters is staying hidden and staying alive.
A sudden noise above startles us both—a twig snapping underfoot.
My heart leaps into my throat again as I strain to listen.
But then I hear it—a distant car engine starting up and driving away.
Tom lets out a shaky breath. "I think they're gone," he says quietly.
I nod again, relief flooding through me. "Let's get out of here."
We carefully climb back up the well and emerge into the moonlit forest.
The night air feels fresh and liberating after our tense confinement.
"We need to keep moving," Tom says. "Find another place to hide."
I agree silently as we start making our way through the woods once more.
But just as we begin to feel a glimmer of hope, headlights sweep across the trees ahead of us.
