Chapter Eleven: False Hope
No one hesitated. Every hand rose in silent agreement. A flicker of hope stirred within Daniel. He stood up and walked toward the corner where he'd once sat. All eyes followed him as he pointed to the ground.
Etched into the floor was a precise, detailed carving.
It was the shape of a key.
Gasps filled the air. Their eyes lit up, and involuntary smiles spread across their weary faces. It was as if, for the first time, they could see light at the end of this dark, endless tunnel.
Nikola the Silent stepped forward and said,
"I carved something similar... over there."
He pointed to a different spot in the cell.
They rushed to examine both carvings. Nearly identical, with only a slight difference in size. That detail alone was enough to confirm what none of them dared to believe: what they had was real. Even Daniel and Nikola hadn't been sure—until now.
They split into three teams: three people per carving, with one person left on lookout duty, eyes fixed on the hallway, in case the madman returned.
It had been a day and a half since they arrived here. They'd learned that the longest the madman ever vanished without bringing food was roughly late into the second night. They'd figured out how to tell day from night by the faint light filtering in from the corridor. And right now, that light told them it was the second day.
Caro—the massive brute—was the first to finish shaping the key. He raised it with pride and announced,
"Hey, I'm done."
The group was genuinely stunned by his speed. When they looked closer, their surprise only grew. The key was made entirely of bone—chicken or maybe meat bones.
"What's with the faces...?" Caro said with a smirk. "I'm a blacksmith. Of course I'm good at this."
They tested it. It worked.
Amado, the man with the mustache, suddenly warned,
"No one should keep the key. If the madman grabs someone and they're holding it, it'll be the end of them... and us."
No one argued. Harsh as it was, they all agreed. They hid the key in a tiny hole in the floor, covering it with dirt.
Night three arrived. The fading light marked the coming of dusk. This was it—the night of the escape. Their hearts pounded with suffocating tension. Every detail of the room was burned into their minds now, seared by anxiety and desperation.
Then, without warning... the madman entered.
He set down the food, then looked at them with an amused, twisted grin.
"This will be the last meal... for one of you. Be ready."
They froze. Silence swallowed the cell. Daniel looked at the floor—at the place where the key lay buried—and thought, (If he'd just come one night later...)
But wishes weren't enough. The true survival game had just begun.
After the madman left, they gathered again. The silence lingered, thick with fear and unspoken dread. It didn't take long before despair began etching itself onto their faces. The hope that had briefly lifted them now crumbled under the weight of reality. Nerves frayed. Faces tensed. Every breath felt heavier than the last.
Daniel stepped into the center of their circle. His eyes swept over the group, sharp with both resolve and sorrow. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, but every word struck with weight.
There are only two options now. Only two. The first: we open the door and run away. Now. Regardless of the risks, regardless of the consequences. The second option: we wait. We wait, hoping that the madman will come after the night is over... Then we will have escaped.."
Lucas, the one with the glasses, replied slowly, uncertainty heavy in his voice as he stared at the ground:
"But he said it himself... tonight. He might come for someone any minute now. What if we try to escape just as he walks in? That'd be suicide."
Amado raised his head toward Daniel, shaking it slowly. His voice trembled—not with fear, but with rage:
"No. Even if you're right, I still say we go now. We're not just risking one person—we're all at risk. Every minute we wait, the danger grows. He could take someone, and if that person's a coward, or worse, a traitor, they might give us up just to save themselves. No. We go now. No more waiting."
Tension thickened like smoke. No one replied, but their eyes said everything. The choice had been made.
Sanjay, the heavyset man, bolted toward the corner where they'd buried the key. He dropped to his knees and dug furiously, hands shaking, breath ragged. It was as if his very soul was buried under that patch of earth.
Then suddenly—
A scream tore through the silence.
Sanjay fell backward, his face pale with horror, eyes wide and unblinking.
Everyone ran toward the spot, hearts pounding violently. And when they saw what he saw, overwhelming hatred and intense anger took over them.
They found the key… completely destroyed, shattered in a way that left no doubt. It was as if someone had done it deliberately—on purpose.
In that instant of fury, the hot-headed Kaoru grabbed Amado—who had a thick mustache—by the collar and screamed in his face, voice trembling with rage:
"You! You bastard! Who was it that told us to leave it here?! You're the one who suggested this place, weren't you?!"
And without waiting for an answer, he punched him with all his strength, the blow landing hard enough to make Amado stumble back with a groan. Kaoru lunged again, but this time Amado dodged and struck back, shouting loudly:
"Or maybe it's you! Weren't you the one who went to the cart first and refused to fight? Didn't you act like a coward back there?! Who's to say you're not the traitor?!"
Everyone immediately jumped in to stop the fight, barely managing to hold them both apart.
Then suddenly—at the peak of the chaos and internal collapse—they all heard it.
A terrifying laugh.
From behind them, from within the shadows.
The laugh of the madman himself.
He stepped forward, clapping slowly and mockingly.
"I just… just left you for a little while. Only a few minutes. And look at you—already fighting each other. Now I know for sure you're the best samples for testing so far. Excellent. Really excellent. So… why not take a sample now?"
He approached the iron bars of the cell, threw a long rope inside, and pointed at the closest person to him.
It was Daniel.
Dressed entirely in black, he stood out clearly among them.
The madman shouted with an unquestionable tone:
"Tie him up. Tie this one up with the rope. Right now, no delay!"
Everyone froze and stared at Daniel in heavy silence—as if time itself had stopped.
It was an inner struggle for them all. But in the end, Lucas—the one with the glasses—stepped forward slowly, picked up the rope, and began walking toward Daniel.
His back turned to the madman, he leaned in and whispered to Daniel with sincere regret:
"I'm sorry… I'm really sorry."
Deep inside, Daniel knew—resisting now would be useless. There was no way he could overcome them all, especially in this state of fear and defeat.
Suddenly, Kaoru charged in from behind, grabbed Daniel's arms tightly, and shouted at Lucas:
"Hurry! No time to stall!"
Daniel resisted with all his strength, but the massive Kaoru seized him from the other side. Amado with the mustache stepped toward Lucas and said sharply:
"Give me the rope!"
But Lucas replied with firm resolve:
"No. Let me do it."
Amado calmed a little after seeing Lucas's face, then approached Daniel as he held him. Quietly, he slipped something very small into Daniel's pocket—something the size of a sharp bone—and whispered as he pressed it in:
"Good luck…"
Lucas tied the rope around Daniel using the same knot they had used earlier during their escape attempt. Daniel's hands were still resisting, he was yelling and pulling hard—but it was no use.
Everyone was watching, and they were all frozen—hearts drowning in sorrow and grief.
The madman spoke with a twisted joy, thrilled by the scene:
"This is wonderful! So wonderful! I love seeing this… every single time!"
He opened the iron cell door, and in his hand burned a glowing fireball. It flared with intense heat that could be felt from afar. Then he spoke with a real threat:
"Any move now… and it's barbecue time. Yes, you'll burn alive. No one plays games with me."
He walked in slowly and stepped toward Daniel, lifting the fireball until it was very close to his face—almost touching his skin.
Then he whispered in a chilling, low voice:
"Shhhhh… No talking. No resistance in front of me… or you'll die here."