For a second, there was only silence — heavy, ugly silence that pressed down on us like a weight.
Then a slimy mocking voice slithered through the crack in the door:
"Keep it down, lovebirds,"
"Or next time... we won't be so polite."
I froze.
Jason's jaw clenched so hard I thought he might break his teeth. His fingers tightened around the scrap of metal in his hand.
The footsteps faded, slow and lazy, as if the man on the other side didn't have a care in the world. As if he knew exactly how powerless we were.
Jason didn't move for a long time. Neither did I.
We just breathed broken, shallow breaths that didn't feel like they could ever be enough.
And then Jason turned to me, eyes burning.
"We have to get out of here," he said lowly.
The silence thickened again, stretching so long I could feel it crawling under my skin. Jason stood by the door, his body tense, ready to move. But something in the air had shifted. A warning bell rang somewhere in my mind.
"Jason," I whispered, but my voice was barely audible. It felt like the walls themselves were listening.
His fingers hovered over the door, but he didn't open it. His eyes narrowed, focused, like a man walking a razor's edge.
Then the door rattled again. But this time, it wasn't the sound of someone on the other side trying to break in. It was the sound of the lock turning.
I froze.
Jason's breath caught in his throat. His body stiffened, muscles coiling like a spring, ready to snap.
Before we could react, the door creaked open, but only a crack. A sliver of dark, cold air rushed into the room. I barely registered the figure standing in the doorway—tall, masked, and motionless. A shadow that loomed larger than the room itself.
"Thought you two might want some company," the voice said, low and amused.
.
Jason's hand clenched around the metal again. But he didn't move. Not yet. There was something in the air that told me he was waiting, calculating. He knew this wasn't just about escaping anymore. This was a game, a twisted little show, and they were the ones in control.
The man stepped forward. His eyes glittered from under the mask, something cruel in them. "You're not going anywhere," he said, voice coated with malice.
I wanted to shout, to scream, to do something—but my throat felt like it was full of broken glass. And Jason... his jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.
"You're wasting your time," Jason said, his voice low but full of fire. "We won't go down without a fight."
He chuckled, a sound that made my skin crawl. "Oh, we know you won't. But you see," he continued, his voice dripping with cold amusement, "that's exactly what we want."
Jason's hand tightened on the scrap of metal, but his eyes flickered toward me. There was a hesitation there, a flicker of doubt that made my stomach drop.
The man took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving us. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he mused, as if savoring the moment. "But the thing is, you're already too late."
A cold chill ran down my spine.
"What do you mean?" Jason demanded, stepping forward, but still keeping his distance.
The man didn't answer right away. He just stepped aside. And that's when I saw it. Behind him. The last thing I expected. A woman doctor.
She held a syringe in her hand. But this wasn't the kind of syringe used to treat a wound. This one was full of something dark—something that didn't look like medicine at all.
Jason's eyes flickered to me, but before he could react, the door slammed shut behind the woman.
"Your time's up," the masked man said softly, almost sympathetically. "You've been playing a game you don't understand. And now... now the real fun begins."