The stench hit her first — mold, rust, and something rotten that clung to the walls like old sins. The building they dragged her into was no classroom, no safe space; it was a forgotten carcass of concrete and steel. Broken windows gaped like missing teeth, glass crunching under their shoes as they pulled her deeper inside.
She kicked and clawed, her muffled screams bouncing off the walls, but the boys only laughed, their hands tightening like shackles around her wrists.
"Stop fighting," one of them said, his breath hot in her ear. "It'll only make it worse."
They shoved her into a room. The door slammed shut with a hollow bang that seemed to echo forever.
The light was dim — a single bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering, buzzing like an insect ready to die. Dust floated in the air, glowing faintly in the weak light. The walls were stained with watermarks that looked like blood if you squinted too long. A mattress lay in the corner, filthy, ripped open, foam spilling out like entrails.
Her heart hammered. She backed into the wall, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice cracked, trembling.
The leader stepped forward, smirking as if her terror fed him. "Because we can."
His friends snickered, circling her like hyenas. One kicked her bag away, scattering books across the floor. Another yanked her hair, forcing her to look up.
"You think you're better than us?" one hissed."I never— I never said that," she whispered."You didn't have to. Your face says everything."
The leader crouched in front of her, his eyes cold, soulless. "This is our world. You're just living in it. And now…" His grin widened. "You're not even living."
He grabbed her chin, tilting her face side to side like she was a doll, something less than human. Her tears blurred her vision, but she saw enough — the cruelty etched in their expressions, the hunger for power, for dominance.
Panic clawed at her chest. She bolted for the door.
But they were faster.
A hand caught her arm, another slammed her against the wall. Pain exploded in her shoulder. She cried out, but the walls swallowed the sound. No one outside would hear. And even if they did, would anyone come?
The leader leaned close again, whispering, "No one's coming for you. Your voice dies in here. Just like you will."
Her knees buckled, but they didn't let her fall. They forced her onto the mattress, her body trembling with terror. She kicked, scratched, screamed, but her resistance was nothing against four bodies fueled by cruelty.
They didn't kill her that night. They didn't need to. They had something worse planned: forty-four days of hell.
The hours dragged like centuries. They kept her tied, hands bound with rope that cut into her skin. Every time she struggled, the fibers bit deeper. Her wrists burned, blood slicking the knots.
The boys took turns mocking her. One poured water over her head, laughing as she choked. Another slapped her whenever she tried to speak. They kept repeating the same words: "You're ours now."
Fear curdled into despair. She begged, she promised to stay quiet, she swore she'd tell no one. But they only grinned wider.
Outside, the city carried on. Cars honked, families ate dinner, her brother sat waiting by the window at home. Life continued, while hers was stolen.
By midnight, exhaustion pulled at her eyelids, but she couldn't sleep. Every creak of the building, every whisper of the boys outside the door reminded her: she was trapped. And tomorrow would be worse.
Meanwhile, her brother lay awake in his room, staring at the ceiling. Something gnawed at his chest — a dread he couldn't name. He replayed her wave that morning, her laugh, the way the sunlight caught her hair. It all felt suddenly fragile, like a memory he might lose.
He told himself she'd walk in soon, apologizing for being late. But the clock ticked on, louder and louder, like a countdown.
And somewhere in the dark, his sister lay curled on a filthy mattress, whispering his name, hoping against hope he'd somehow hear.
Day Two would come. And with it, a deeper descent into hell.