I pressed my back against the cold concrete wall, keeping my breathing quiet. My pulse was still racing, but I forced myself to focus. In this story, I was Leah. Not Isabella. New name, new role, same survival instinct.
The others were still shaken. James paced near the far wall, hands clenched, muttering to himself. Clara crouched on the floor, fingers entwined, whispering reassurances she barely believed. Victor stood near the door, rigid, scanning every shadow as if daring it to move.
I studied them carefully. Names, traits, patterns—they were all familiar. And that knowledge was my weapon.
"James," I said softly, letting my voice carry just enough authority to make him pause. "We need a plan. If we panic, the rest of us won't make it."
He looked at me, startled. "You… you know a plan?"
I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. "I can think of one. But I need to know who we can trust first."
Clara raised her head, eyes wide. "Trust? How do we even know who's not working with… whoever brought us here?"
Exactly. That was what I needed. They were thinking like the book had taught them, predictable. Perfect. I smiled faintly. "Then we test. Small tasks. Watch reactions. That's how we know."
Victor's gaze sharpened. "And if someone fails?"
I shrugged. "Then we adjust. That's all."
I started with the simplest test: a sweep of the room. I told James to check the far corner while I kept an eye on the door. Clara was instructed to move the boxes slightly, just enough to see if anyone reacted nervously. Victor hesitated, but I assigned him to the shelves along the wall.
I watched them, noting every twitch, every hesitation. James was careful, methodical—exactly as I remembered. Clara's eyes darted constantly, nervous, but alert. Victor… cautious, but quick to act when prompted.
Good. Useful. Predictable.
The shadow moved again, faintly this time, brushing along the far wall. I froze, letting my body stiffen naturally, like the others. No one could suspect that I was reading the patterns, predicting the killer's moves.
"What was that?" Clara whispered, voice trembling.
"Nothing," I said smoothly. "Just… shadows. We need to stay calm."
The shadow paused near Victor. A faint scrape echoed. Victor flinched. I noted it, storing it away. Good, he reacts as expected. Useful.
I couldn't let anyone see my thoughts. Every expression had to be neutral. Calm. Fearful enough to blend in, controlled enough to remain untouchable.
I moved closer to Clara, crouching slightly to speak near her ear. "We can't just sit here. We need to figure out how this room works—every door, every corner, every possible exit."
Her eyes met mine, searching, desperate. I let her see a hint of confidence. "If we stay quiet, if we watch, we can survive."
James glanced at me again, doubt flickering in his eyes. "And you… you know that?"
I smiled faintly, letting my voice stay steady. "I've seen situations like this before. We can survive if we work together."
Victor grunted but didn't argue. That was fine. He would follow the strongest lead if it meant safety.
The shadow moved again. The glint of metal caught the light, a brief reflection that made my stomach twist. I bit back the instinct to flinch. I let the others react naturally, storing every motion, every twitch in my memory.
If I could control the way the others moved—guide them subtly without them knowing—then I could survive. And maybe… I could even turn the story around.
The first real test came when I suggested we all check the rusty door together. "One at a time," I said, forcing calm into my voice. "If we all rush, we could make noise. That could be dangerous."
James went first, moving carefully. Clara followed, trembling but steady. Victor's turn. And then me—Leah.
The shadow was gone. For now.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my body to relax even as my heart raced. This is just the beginning, I reminded myself. I can use them. I can survive. I am Leah now.
And as I peered at the rusty lock, I realized something chilling: everyone here was already moving along the paths I remembered from the story. But this time… I could shape how it ended.
If I played it right.