SARENA
A SHARP gasp escaped my lips the moment the woman drove the syringe into my arm.
The needle sank deep, cold and merciless and I felt my entire body flinch from the sting. My fingers curled instinctively, my nails digging into my palm as I tried not to scream. But the pain wasn't just in my skin—it spread through my veins like poison.
They were taking my blood again.
I could feel it leaving me, drop by drop, as if they were draining not only my body, but my life itself. A strange mix of sensations overwhelmed me all at once—burning, numbness, dizziness, nausea. My heart thudded weakly in my chest, struggling to keep up.
At first, it had only been weakness. The kind that made my knees tremble when I stood up, the kind that blurred my vision and made the world tilt. But after the third… the fifth… the tenth time…
It stopped feeling like exhaustion.
It felt like I was being hollowed out.
My veins burned constantly, as if fire was crawling beneath my skin, threading through every part of me. My arms were covered in bruises—purple, black, and sickly yellow stains layered over one another because they never gave my body time to heal. Every time I looked down, I saw new marks. New punctures. New wounds.
New proof that I wasn't a person to them.
I was just a supply.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing as my eyes drifted around the room. Several people stood nearby, all dressed in white medical coats and masks. Their movements were quick and practiced, like they had done this countless times before. None of them looked at me with sympathy. None of them hesitated.
They didn't see me as a human being strapped to a chair.
They saw me as an object.
A product.
The room smelled like alcohol and chemicals—sterile, sharp, and suffocating. Metal trays clinked as they set down vials of my blood. I watched them label the tubes, seal them and store them like they were packaging merchandise.
I couldn't understand everything they were saying. Their voices blended together in a blur of words, muffled by their masks.
But there was one thing I understood clearly.
They were talking about money.
Numbers. Prices. Deals.
Like my blood had a value… like my suffering could be measured in profit.
My throat tightened.
"How long do I need to suffer like this?" I whispered, my voice trembling with anger and exhaustion.
One of them glanced at me briefly—only briefly—before turning back to the others. He muttered something under his breath and the rest chuckled softly, as if my question was nothing more than a joke.
I frowned, my pulse pounding painfully in my ears.
"W-what… what are they talking about?" I asked again, my voice stronger this time. But no one heard me.
One of the women nodded toward another worker, and after a moment, a man stepped closer. He didn't answer me. He didn't even acknowledge my words.
Instead, he grabbed my arm and supported me as I struggled to stand.
My legs almost gave out immediately.
The moment I rose from the chair, my body swayed violently. The room spun, and I felt bile rise in my throat. I had to grip his sleeve just to keep myself from collapsing.
And just like always… I already knew what would happen next.
They were going to drag me back to my cell.
Back to the darkness. Back to the metal floor. Back to waiting.
The man tightened his hold on me and began guiding me out of the room. My feet scraped against the ground as I walked, weak and unsteady, like a prisoner being led to slaughter.
But as we stepped into the corridor, I realized something.
The needle was gone. The blood was taken. It was over… for now.
A shaky breath escaped me and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
We reached the cells again and the first thing I heard was the faint crying. It echoed through the corridor like a ghost—soft, broken, and helpless.
The young girl in the cage across from mine was curled tightly on the cold floor, her thin body twisted as if she was trying to disappear into herself. Even in her sleep, she trembled. Her face was wet with tears, and her lips kept moving as though her nightmare refused to let her rest.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
She kept saying it over and over again.
I wanted to hug her... to assure her that none of this was her fault. I wanted to tell her she didn't have to apologize. But before I could even gather enough breath, a rough hand shoved me forward.
I stumbled.
My knees nearly gave out as the man forced me back into my cage like I was nothing more than a sack of meat. My shoulder slammed into the metal bars and pain exploded through my body in a sharp, blinding wave.
I gasped, but my throat was too dry to scream.
The man didn't even look at me.
To him, I wasn't human. I wasn't a person. I was just another subject that refused to die fast enough.
He pushed me again, harder this time, until I hit the floor with a sickening thud. My palms scraped against the cold metal as I tried to catch myself, but my arms trembled violently, weak from everything they had taken from me.
Then came the sound I hated most.
The door.
The heavy steel gate swung shut and the lock clicked into place with finality—cold, merciless, and absolute.
The sound echoed like a sentence.
Like a reminder that I wasn't leaving.
Not today. Not ever.
The man's footsteps faded away, slow and unbothered, disappearing down the corridor as if what he'd done was nothing more than routine.
Silence swallowed the room again.
Only the faint drip of water remained… and the quiet, broken sobs of the girl across from me.
My whole body ached. Every breath felt like it scraped against bruised ribs. I tried to move, but the moment I shifted, pain crawled up my spine and through my limbs like fire.
Still, I forced myself.
I clenched my jaw, swallowing the whimper that threatened to escape and dragged my body across the floor. My elbows and knees trembled as I crawled, the cold metal biting into my skin. Each movement felt like it was tearing me apart from the inside.
My vision blurred.
My head spun.
It felt like the world was tilting, like the ground was trying to swallow me whole.
I didn't even know why I was moving.
Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe I just couldn't stand the sound of her crying alone.
The distance between our cages wasn't far, but in my condition, it felt endless.
By the time I reached the bars closest to her, I was shaking so badly I could barely hold myself up. My breathing was uneven, shallow and weak, like my lungs were too tired to keep going.
I lifted my head, just enough to see her properly.
She was curled into herself, small and fragile, her shoulders trembling as she whispered the same word like a prayer.
"Sorry… sorry… sorry…"
My fingers reached for the bars, gripping them for balance, but my hand slipped at first. My skin was slick with sweat and my arms were too weak to obey me.
I tried again.
This time, I held on.
My forehead pressed against the metal as I fought to stay conscious. My eyes burned, not from tears, but from exhaustion so deep it felt like it had seeped into my bones.
I wanted to speak. I wanted to comfort her. But the truth was… I had nothing left.
No strength.
No courage.
No hope.
Only emptiness.
My eyelids grew heavier, dragging down like weights. The world around me became dull, muffled, distant—like I was sinking underwater.
I could feel my body giving up.
And in that moment, I realized something terrifying.
I didn't even care anymore.
I was too tired to think.
Too tired to fight.
Too tired to fear.
All I wanted was to close my eyes… and let the world end on its own.
Because at least then…
It would finally be quiet.
***
I JOLTED upright with a strangled gasp, my entire body screaming in protest.
Pain ripped through my ribs, my spine, my arms—every inch of me felt bruised and torn, like I'd been beaten from the inside out. I clutched my stomach instinctively, my fingers digging into my skin as if it could stop the twisting ache.
Then I heard it.
A sound so loud it didn't just echo—it shook the air. It came from somewhere far, yet it felt close enough to split the walls apart.
I froze, my breath caught in my throat.
My eyes darted around the dim room. The cages, the cold stone, the flickering light above… everything looked the same.
But something was wrong.
It was too quiet.
The guards were gone.
The table in the corner where they always gathered—the same filthy table where they laughed, played card games, and treated our suffering like background noise—was empty. No boots scraping against the floor. No cruel voices. No clinking bottles. No mocking laughter.
Just silence.
For a second, my heart pounded with something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
But it was fragile. Dangerous. The kind of hope that gets you killed if you believe in it too quickly.
Then—BOOM!
Another deafening sound thundered through the building, stronger than the first. The ground beneath my feet trembled violently and dust rained from the ceiling. The bars of my cage rattled, vibrating so hard it made my teeth chatter.
I flinched, stumbling back.
What the hell is happening?
My chest tightened as panic crawled up my throat.
I turned my head sharply toward the girl in the cage across from mine.
She was still asleep.
Curled up like a wounded animal, her hair tangled around her face, her body too thin and fragile for someone so young. Her chest rose and fell slowly, unaware of the chaos unfolding around us.
I swallowed hard.
Slowly, I forced myself to stand.
The moment I straightened my back, my stomach clenched painfully and a sharp wave of dizziness hit me. I grabbed the bars to steady myself, my fingers trembling.
How long had it been since I'd eaten properly? Since I'd even tasted food that wasn't stale bread and dirty water?
My legs felt weak, like they could snap at any second.
Still, I stepped closer to the bars and shook them with what little strength I had left.
The sound echoed across the empty corridor.
"Hey!" I called out, my voice rough and hoarse. "Wake up!"
She didn't move.
My heart sank.
I was about to call again when another explosion tore through the air.
This one was louder.
Closer.
The entire floor shook beneath me, so hard I nearly lost my balance. My body jolted as the walls groaned, like the building itself was crying out.
The girl across from me finally bolted awake.
She sat up too fast and immediately winced, clutching her side. A small whimper escaped her lips before she collapsed into a sitting position, her back pressed against the bars as she tried to catch her breath.
Her wide eyes snapped to mine.
Confusion and fear twisted her expression.
"What's happening?" she whispered, her voice low and hoarse, like she hadn't spoken in days.
I shook my head slowly, my throat tightening.
"I don't know," I admitted. And the truth of it made my stomach drop.
Because not knowing was terrifying.
Not knowing meant anything could happen.
Not knowing meant this could either be salvation… or something far worse.
For a moment, all we could do was listen.
And then—Footsteps.
Not slow, lazy footsteps like the guards.
These were fast.
Panicked.
Rushing.
My heart slammed against my ribs as shadows moved at the far end of the corridor.
Suddenly, five men and two women appeared, sprinting toward us. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with terror. Their white uniforms—lab coats, I realized—were stained with dirt and blood.
Blood that didn't look like it belonged to them.
One of the women looked over her shoulder as if something was chasing them.
"Move!" she hissed urgently. "Hurry up, or they'll catch us!"
Her voice shook and the woman beside her was trembling so badly she looked like she might collapse.
The men didn't hesitate.
One of them ran straight to my cage, fumbling wildly with a ring of keys. His hands were shaking, metal clinking against metal as he struggled to find the right one.
His breathing was frantic.
I stared at them, my pulse pounding.
Who are they? Guards? Scientists?
Or… something else?
Before I could speak, the girl beside me grabbed my hand through the bars.
Her fingers were ice cold.
She gripped me like I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
I turned my head toward her and my heart clenched.
She wasn't blinking. Her gaze was locked on the strangers, her breathing shallow and rapid. Her lips trembled as if she was holding back a scream.
I squeezed her hand gently, forcing myself to smile even though fear was choking me from the inside.
"Don't be scared," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "I'm here."
She nodded, but there was hesitation in her eyes—like she wanted to believe me but didn't know how.
Then—Click.
The lock on my cage opened.
The sound was so loud in the silence that it felt unreal.
My head snapped toward the door just as it swung open.
Before I could even take a step, two men stormed inside.
They didn't speak.
They didn't ask.
One grabbed my arm, the other grabbed my shoulder, their grips harsh and bruising. Their hands felt like iron clamps.
"Wait—!" I gasped.
I twisted, trying to pull away, but my body was too weak. My legs barely held me up, and my head spun violently.
The girl across from me let out a terrified scream.
"Where are you taking her?!" she cried, her voice cracking. "Don't take her! Please!"
Her eyes were huge—wet, panicked, desperate.
But the men didn't even look at her.
It was like she didn't exist.
I fought harder, panic surging through my veins. My heart pounded so fast it felt like it would tear itself apart.
"Let go of me!" I struggled, my voice rising.
But the answer was a fist.
One of the men slammed his knuckles into my stomach so hard the air left my lungs in an instant.
Pain exploded through me.
My knees buckled and my vision blurred. A strangled sound escaped my throat as I doubled over, unable to breathe.
I couldn't even scream.
My body went limp and they dragged me like I weighed nothing.
I didn't have strength left to resist.
I didn't have strength left for anything.
The corridor blurred as they pulled me through it. We turned left, then right, then down another hall. My bare feet scraped against the cold ground. Every movement made my bruises scream.
I could barely keep my eyes open. But I forced myself to stay awake.
Because something deep inside me whispered that if I blacked out now... I might never wake up again.
Finally, we burst through a heavy door.
Cold air hit my face like a slap.
And then... the Moonlight.
The brightness was almost unbearable after so many days in darkness. I squeezed my eyes shut instinctively, my head pounding as the light stabbed into my vision.
But even with my eyes closed, I could hear it.
Gunshots.
Shouting.
Screams.
The sound of chaos spilling into the night.
Somewhere in the distance, smoke rose into the sky, thick and dark. The smell of burning metal and something else—something foul—filled the air.
"Move faster!" someone shouted. "We don't have time!"
"Where's the car?!" another voice yelled.
I couldn't understand everything they were saying. My mind felt foggy, drowning in exhaustion and pain.
But then… My entire body went rigid.
Every hair on my skin stood up.
A cold, primal fear slithered into my chest, sharp and sudden, like instinct screaming at me to run.
I slowly lifted my head.
And in the distance—through the smoke and moonlight—I saw it.
A figure.
A silhouette moving toward us...
And then the moonlight hit its eyes.
Red.
Glowing.
Bright as fresh blood.
My stomach dropped, and my breath caught in my throat.
"No… those eyes!" I muttered. "It's him!"
The men dragging me froze.
Their grips tightened.
Someone whispered, voice shaking in horror.
"No…"
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
I could only stare as the creature drew closer—silent, powerful, deadly.
And in that moment, I realized…
Whatever was happening tonight wasn't a rescue.
It was a hunt.
To be continued...