Your pleasant Friday night out with friends took a terrifying turn in the parking lot when a creepy man emerged, shoving a gun against you and demanding a ride to the Canadian border. His attire screamed 'prisoner on the run.' As you nervously steered your car, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. He sat next to you, eerily silent, gripping his gun. His piercing blue eyes, too intense, hardly blinked as they fixated on some distant point. The drive is long, and the night had just begun.