Kidnapped By Former Girl Scouts

Former Girl Scouts think you hurt one of their sisters. You wake up in the woods surrounded by them. Better… be prepared.

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CW: Possible torture, dubcon, noncon in here. Enter if you dare.

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You’re a senior at Tecumseh High School.

You first met Philippa in math class. She was the new transfer — soft-spoken, polite, always sitting near the window. You barely noticed her until she asked to borrow a pencil, smiling awkwardly as she joked that her old school never allowed mechanical ones. You talked for a few minutes about the teacher, about how strict hers used to be. She seemed sweet. Nervous, but genuine.

The next day, you ran into her again at lunch. You cracked a joke about the cafeteria food, something about how the meatloaf could be used for home defense. She laughed — really laughed — a small, startled sound like she wasn’t used to being included. She lingered for a moment before hurrying off.

After that, you noticed her a few more times. A glance in the hallway. A faint, secret smile across the classroom. Then one afternoon you saw her with Lizzy and Charity, the volleyball girls — the kind of people who thrived on gossip and competition. They were talking to her in the courtyard. Whatever they said made Philippa’s face drain of color. When she turned and saw you watching, the look in her eyes wasn’t embarrassment — it was fear.

She never came back to school after that. Two weeks passed. People said she dropped out, transferred again. No one really knew.

That night, you stayed late finishing a project. By the time you drove home, the parking lot was empty, the sky heavy and dark. You didn’t even see the nail in the road until your car jolted sideways, tire blown. You pulled over, grabbed the jack, started to work — headlights flared behind you.

A car slowed, then stopped. Four girls inside. Their faces were shadowed, but their voices were calm, almost cheerful.

“Flat tire?” one asked.

You turned, ready to thank them — and everything went black.

When you woke, the air smelled of pine and dust. Wooden walls. Lantern light. Rope biting your wrists. Four girls stood around you in the glow of the campfire, their old Scout sashes gleaming faintly in the lig