"We're here."
I get out of the car and head toward the only building here — abandoned, lonely, like an island forgotten by the world in the wilderness outside the city. The building looks like a fragment of the past, standing on the edge of oblivion, and every creaking corner breathes desolation and cold. The wind cuts through my skin, making me shiver, as if nature itself has turned away from this place. Around us reigns an oppressive silence — so dense and heavy that it feels like even sounds are afraid to pierce its dead veil. This place presses on my chest, squeezing my heart, stirring an anxiety I cannot ignore.
"Decided not to take the risk?" Ivan asks as I step over the threshold, and there's a cold mockery in his voice, as if he has long known I'm afraid but wants to test it to the end.
"I came, just as you wanted," I answer, trying to keep my voice steady, but inside, everything burns.
My heart pounds wildly, like it's trying to break out of my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. A lump of fear and hatred sits in my chest, mixed with determination not to back down.
When I look at Ivan, fear washes over me — not just anxiety, but true, animal terror, so deep it penetrates my very core, crawling along my nerves like icy poison, settling in my bones like heavy lead.
This guy, no older than twenty-four, looks like he's been through hell and cannot return as a human. He reminds me of a leper-stricken homeless man, lost among shadows — his gaunt, scarred face etched with deep cracks and marks, as if pain itself signed him. His skin is gray and tight, like old parchment hiding only suffering and something unbearably dark.
Ivan used to be handsome — hot-tempered, yes, with a willful character, but attractive. Now… he's a terrifying creature, barely human. His figure — bony, angular, like cut from a nightmare — evokes disgust and dread. His very essence radiates cold and death. Just looking at him triggers a sharp, instinctive shiver, as if something ancient and dangerous stares straight into my soul.
The scariest thing is his eyes. There's nothing human left in them. No pain, no regret, not even anger — only bottomless darkness. A void in which not a single spark of life shines. Madness, merciless, icy, like an abandoned winter well. He looks, but he doesn't see. He looks right through, and I want to recoil, scream, disappear.
"Follow me," he says, and his voice carries a shadow of threat, leaving me no choice but to follow, feeling fear tighten every muscle in my body.
We enter a dark room, and he slams the door behind us, locking it. My heart tightens to its limit — I don't fully understand what's happening, but the danger is tangible and unavoidable, as if I'm trapped with no escape. A chill runs down my spine, making me shiver, and tears burn my eyes from helplessness.
Suddenly, he pushes me onto the bed.
"What are you doing?" I ask, terrified, trying to crawl away, but he grabs my leg and pulls me with iron strength, giving no chance for escape.
"Making up for a missed opportunity. You didn't give it to me, so why not take the moment, huh?" he says with a nasty, cruel smile, revealing his rotten, shriveled teeth — a symbol of a destroyed soul.
Drugs have mercilessly eaten him from the inside, burning his soul to ashes and leaving only a shell — twisted, ugly, filled with decay. What once was Ivan has turned into a monster — a living shadow, boiling with all the pain, rage, and despair accumulated over years. Everything human has vanished, dissolved in the drug haze, leaving only instincts and darkness.
I try to break free, desperately, like a trapped animal. Screaming, pushing, thrashing — anything to escape. But he is stronger, like a stone boulder, showing no mercy. His fingers dig into my wrists like iron clamps. He presses my hands sharply to the pillow, and pain pierces me, sharp and burning. Blood seems to freeze in my veins from fear and pressure, and my breathing becomes rapid, ragged, wheezing.
Helplessness overwhelms me — sticky, cold, like a shroud. My heart pounds in my throat, and in my mind, one question beats endlessly: is this the end?
"First, I'll fuck you, then I'll take everything else I want," he hisses maliciously, with no trace of mercy — only cold cruelty and dominance.
Ivan grabs me again — his fingers cold as metal, rough like rusty claws, digging into my skin. These touches aren't just unpleasant — they bind me like iron chains, as if he wants to crush my resistance. I curl up, scream, thrash, floundering in terror like in icy water — my body jerks desperately, but every attempt to escape only deepens the helplessness. Fear rises like a thick fog, sticky and suffocating, enveloping me completely, paralyzing both mind and body.
He rips my T-shirt abruptly, tearing the last barrier. His hand crawls higher, and I feel everything inside tighten with disgust and panic. When his hand covers my chest, he suddenly freezes. His confusion is almost tangible — as if he stumbled upon something alien, inappropriate. My heart pounds like it wants to burst out — anxiety spreads like sharp shards through my body.
What if he finds the phone? The thought flashes like lightning. Max… He won't make it… We're doomed…
His face twitches. With sudden force, he rips the T-shirt up and pulls my phone from under my bra. His gaze changes — suspicious, dangerous. Inside me, everything collapses. I feel the last hope vanish.
"What's this, Katrin? Trying to deceive me? Think you're the smartest here? No, I'll teach you a lesson," he shouts, his voice trembling with fury.
His fist slams into my face — a crunch, a dull thud, and instantly pain explodes like a blinding blast, spreading through my body in fiery sparks. Every cell shudders, as if struck by lightning. I barely inhale before the second blow hits with even more force. Then another. And another. This isn't a beating — this is execution. Blind, brutal, animalistic.
He hits like he wants to erase me from the face of the earth. No regret, no thought, no face — only muffled rage, distorted breathing, and his fist turning my flesh into a target over and over.
Ivan grabs my hair, yanking me down — a sharp pull, as if ripping out my very soul. I fall to the floor like a sack, with a dull thud. My ears ring, my vision darkens. Instinctively, I cover my stomach with my hands, as if I could create some armor, protect the most fragile, the most alive. Tears fall not from pain — from horror, from helplessness. They burn my eyes like salt on a wound, and in my head beats one cry: "Please, let this end…"
But there's no mercy. Kicks rain down like hail. Brutal, heavy, chaotic, like a storm destroying everything in its path. I curl into a fetal position, hoping that if I disappear, if I shrink, he will stop. But Ivan doesn't. Every kick is like a hammer blow. To the back. To the ribs. To the legs. One — straight to the face. Stars flash before my eyes, like all the galaxies ignited at once, and the world turns into a bloody whirlwind.
Time stretches to infinity. Minutes become centuries. Pain — an endless ocean in which I drown with no right to air. And suddenly — silence.
He stops.
Gripping my hair, he lifts my head — so I meet his gaze. His eyes are empty. Like a predator. Like an executioner.
"You ruined my fun, and for that, I'll punish you. And later — in time, you'll give yourself to me," he hisses. His voice is venomous, cold, like the metal of a knife pressed to the throat. Every word sinks into the mind like a brand, like a curse.
Before I even understand what's happening, he strikes my temple — sharp, precise. A flash — bright, blinding. Pain explodes like a bomb. The world wobbles, begins to crumble into pieces… and disappears.
I fall into darkness — deep, dense, like an abyss. No face. No sound. No pain. Only silence… and emptiness, full of terrible calm.