The inside of the van was almost dark.
It wasn't complete darkness… it was worse.
A faint strip of light slipped through the rear cracks, casting uneven shadows across the metal walls.
It smelled like stale gasoline, old sweat, and hot rubber.
The air was thick.
Hot.
Hard to breathe.
Every bump made the floor vibrate beneath Vivian's feet. The metal rattled as if she were trapped inside a tin can.
Her wrists were bound behind her back. The adhesive tape was wrapped so tightly her skin burned. Every small movement made it bite deeper.
Madeleine was beside her.
Also tied.
Also gagged.
Her shoulders shook uncontrollably.
Tears streamed down her face, disappearing into the fabric of her dark blue uniform.
Vivian had never seen her like this.
At the stadium she had looked strong.
Confident.
Untouchable.
Now she looked like a child.
One of the men in the front seat was talking on the phone.
—The boss made the order clear. It was her.
His voice sounded distorted under the rumble of the engine.
—Yeah… I know. The other one was unexpected.
Silence.
—No. I don't think it'll be a problem.
He hung up.
One of the men in the back spat onto the metal floor.
—Two for the price of one.
—Shut up —another growled—. You've done enough talking.
—What? Feeling sorry for them? They're cheerleaders, not princesses.
Vivian closed her eyes.
Don't cry.
Don't give them that.
Madeleine let out a muffled sob.
The closest man leaned toward them.
His breath smelled like cigarettes and something sour.
—Hey. No crying.
He grabbed Madeleine's hair and yanked her head back.
She whimpered.
—What's wrong, princess? Show's over?
Vivian tried to move, but the tape around her wrists tore at her skin.
"Mmm—" she tried to speak.
The man turned to her.
His eyes were small and cold.
He grabbed her chin roughly. His fingers were rough, calloused.
—When I talk to you, nod if you understand. Yes or no?
Vivian hesitated.
He pulled harder on Madeleine's hair.
—Nod, you stupid girl!
Vivian nodded quickly.
Laughter filled the van.
The sound was closed in. Trapped.
There was nowhere to go.
The van turned sharply.
The noise of the city disappeared.
No more car horns.
Just the engine.
Gravel.
The sound changed.
They were on different ground now.
Vivian felt a hollow drop in her stomach.
The nightmare in the forest flashed through her mind.
Darkness.
Trees.
Silence.
The van slowed.
A heavy metal gate screeched open.
They drove inside.
The echo changed.
More open.
More hollow.
The engine shut off.
Silence.
Only the ticking sound of the engine cooling down.
The back doors swung open with a bang.
Cold night air rushed in.
It smelled damp.
Like wet earth.
Like old wood.
They dragged them out.
The ground wasn't pavement.
It was packed dirt mixed with gravel.
Vivian looked around.
This wasn't some warehouse in the city.
They were on isolated land.
Behind the building, shadows of tall trees stretched into the darkness.
Forest.
The building was large and rectangular.
Metal sheets, some rusted.
A single outdoor light flickered overhead.
The electrical hum was constant.
They were pushed inside.
The metal door slammed shut behind them with a deafening echo.
The interior was lit by harsh white industrial lights.
Cold.
The air was damp and smelled of accumulated dust, oil, and old wood.
There were stacked crates against one wall.
Chains hanging.
A metal table in the center.
And cameras in the corners.
That was what frightened Vivian the most.
Cameras.
This wasn't improvised.
They were placed in separate metal chairs.
The cold steel seeped through the thin fabric of her uniform.
The tape was ripped from their mouths.
The skin around Vivian's lips burned.
Madeleine inhaled sharply, like she had been underwater.
—What do you want? —she asked, her voice breaking.
Her words echoed through the empty space.
One of the men laughed.
—Listen to her. She still thinks this is negotiable.
—I didn't do anything… —Madeleine whispered.
Vivian tasted metal in her mouth.
Fear.
—If this is about the game… it was just a game.
The tallest man stepped closer.
His boots echoed against the concrete floor.
—You really think this is about a game? How naive.
The word lingered in the air.
Naive.
Then another engine was heard outside.
Heavier.
Controlled.
The men straightened immediately.
—He's here.
The warehouse doors slowly opened.
Cold forest air entered again.
Firm footsteps echoed against the concrete.
Slow.
Certain.
A figure crossed the threshold.
Elegant.
Impeccable.
As if he didn't belong in a place this dirty.
One of the men pointed toward Vivian.
The man observed her carefully.
Without hurry.
As if inspecting something valuable.
Then he looked at Madeleine.
—And this one?
—She got in the way, sir.
Silence.
The electrical hum seemed louder now.
—Mistakes are corrected.
Madeleine began crying again.
—Please… my dad can pay… whatever you want…
The man tilted his head slightly.
—This isn't about money.
A chill ran down Vivian's spine.
If it wasn't money…
Then it was personal.
He stepped closer.
Close enough for Vivian to see his eyes clearly.
Calm.
Too calm.
—I thought you'd be different.
Vivian didn't understand.
But for the first time, she felt something worse than fear.
The realization that this wasn't random.
That someone had been watching her long before tonight.
And in the dark sky above the forest…
a small red dot kept moving.
Closer.