{ Mia }
I woke up my head pounding I tried to move but my limbs felt stiff.
" What... Happened?" I asked to myself then, it hit me. Lili... The attackers...' They must've caught me! ' I winced at the thought. ' where's Lili is she safe ? What have I done ? Why didn't I just listen to Ash...' I cried.
" There's no time for that Mia... " Ash's weak voice echoed in my head. " For now... Just... Out..." Then, as soon as her voice appeared it faded into nothing.
" She's right... I need to focus!" I forced myself. " She's too weak... So I can't shift... Let's try Scarlett..." I whispered.
I lookwd around to find myself in a dark room, the stench of mold and something metallic — blood maybe? Hit me like a blade.
I moved unconsciously but something was pulling me back... I turned my head finding my hands tied together by a metal chain.
" Scarlett? " I whispered holding my breath.
With no answer I skilfully twisted my head looking at my hands behind me.
" Shit... They took my watch..." My lips trembled. "How am I supposed to continue without her? She was always with me, even when it was hard..." The words broke in my throat.
For a heartbeat, I let the grief crush me. Then my gaze hardened. I clenched my jaw. "I'll avenge you."
As if the vow unlocked something, an idea sparked. My eyes shifted across the room and landed on a table, just a few feet away. On it sat a bloody, rusted hacksaw.
My stomach churned. The sight was enough to make bile rise in my throat, but I couldn't look away.
If I don't move fast… my blood will be next on that blade.
I shifted the chair, scraping the legs against the damp concrete. The sound cut through the silence like a scream, and I froze, heart hammering. No footsteps. No voices. Just the hum of dripping water somewhere in the shadows.
Good… keep going.
I dragged myself another inch. The table loomed closer, the hacksaw resting on its edge like a taunt. My wrists burned as the chains bit deeper, but I gritted my teeth and kept moving.
When I was close enough, I leaned forward, stretching my legs as far as I could. My toes brushed the metal—slipped. Again. And again.
"Come on…" I hissed under my breath, sweat running down my temple. My stomach twisted at the thought of how many others had bled under that saw, but I forced the image down.
On the fourth try, my foot hooked the handle. The table wobbled. The hacksaw clattered, and I held my breath, praying no one heard.
It hit the floor.
I kicked it toward me, inch by inch, until the cold, sticky handle rested against my ankle. My hands shook as I twisted, lowering the chains, trying to grip the blade with the edge of my palm. The angle was awful, the metal slick with blood and rust.
This is going to hurt.
I pressed anyway. The teeth bit into the chain… and into my skin. Sparks of pain shot through me, but I clenched my jaw and kept sawing, every grind of rust against metal echoing like a countdown.
The hacksaw screeched as it ground against the chain. Every movement sent fire racing up my arms, the jagged teeth slipping, tearing into my wrists instead of the metal.
Blood. Warm, wet, sticky. My breath came in short gasps.
"Don't stop… don't you dare stop now…" I whispered, forcing myself through the dizzying pain.
Minutes blurred together. My head pounded. The smell of rust and copper clung to me until I couldn't tell where the saw ended and my blood began.
Then—
Crack.
A single, sharp snap echoed through the room. The chain slackened, falling loose against my bruised skin.
For a moment, I just stared at it, chest heaving, unable to believe it had actually worked. My wrists throbbed, raw and shredded, but the sight of the broken shackle sent a rush of adrenaline flooding through me.
"I… I did it…" I breathed, my lips curling into a trembling smile.
But the victory was short-lived.
The sound of footsteps approached—slow, deliberate, coming closer with each echo.
I froze, the hacksaw still slick in my hands.
The broken chain clattered to the floor. My wrists screamed in agony, skin split and bleeding, but I didn't give myself the luxury of resting.
"Move, Mia… move…" I hissed, dragging my body across the cold floor. Every inch forward was war.
I pressed myself against the far corner of the room, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, trying to make myself small. My hands left bloody smears on the wall as I clawed for leverage.
The door creaked open.
A man stepped in, tall, broad-shouldered, face hidden behind a dark mask. His boots hit the ground with a heavy rhythm, each step echoing like a death toll. He didn't speak. Just stood there, scanning. Hunting.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
When his gaze shifted toward the empty chair, I seized the moment. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the wall with everything I had left, dragging my body inch by inch toward the shadows near the open doorway.
My muscles screamed. My wounds burned. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.
The masked man moved closer to the chair, inspecting the dangling chain.
And I—silent, trembling, but fueled by raw desperation—slid past the threshold, disappearing into the corridor beyond.