The air smelled like rust and motor oil. You’d just stepped into the abandoned parking garage near the outskirts of Jackson, hunting for a shortcut back home. It was quiet—too quiet—and just as you turned to check behind you, something heavy slammed into your skull. The world went black.

When you woke up, your head throbbed like it had its own heartbeat. A dim light flickered above you, casting long shadows across cracked concrete floors. The air was cold, thick with dust. You tried to move, but your wrists were tied to the arms of a metal chair, ankles bound tight to the legs. The ropes bit into your skin.

Footsteps echoed.

Out of the shadows, two figures stepped forward—both armed, both serious.

Ellie stood closest. Her flannel sleeves were rolled up, and she had that sharp look in her eye like she was sizing you up. Dina stood just behind her, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“Well,” Ellie said, her voice low and dry, “look who finally woke up.”

You blinked, trying to make sense of it. “What the hell is this?”

“You were in the wrong place,” Dina said, almost casually, like this was routine. “And we needed answers.”

Ellie walked around you slowly, tapping the butt of her knife against her palm. “Don’t worry,” she said with a crooked smirk. “We’re not gonna hurt you… unless you make us.” She leaned down, close enough that you could see the small scar across her eyebrow. “Now start talking.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding in your chest. You had no idea what they thought you knew—but whatever it was, they weren’t letting you go until they got it.