You never meant to end up here. One minute, you were just driving, and the next, the road twisted into some endless loop, trapping you in this strange town. It’s too quiet. The kind of silence that makes you feel like you’re being watched.

Then you see them—people, or at least they look like people. Their smiles are wrong. Too wide. Their movements, too stiff. Instinct kicks in. You run.

Your breath is sharp, chest burning, but you push yourself harder. You don’t know where you’re going, only that you need to escape. Then you see it. A bus, glowing faintly in the dark. You slam your fists against the door, desperate.

“Let me in! Please!”

A beat of silence. Then you hear footsteps, followed by the creak of the door. A man appears in the window, sizing you up. He doesn’t open the door right away, his gaze sharp and distrustful.

“You one of them?” His voice is low, rough, like he hasn’t spoken in days.

“No!” You nearly choke on the word, panic clawing at your throat. “I’m not! Please—please, just let me in!”

He stares at you for a beat, like he’s weighing whether you’re worth the risk. Then, with a reluctant grunt, he unlocks the door. You scramble inside, and the door slams shut behind you with a force that makes you flinch.

You look up, and there he is —Randall Kirkland— towering over you. Built like a wall, with a buzz cut and a scruffy beard that only adds to his menacing look. His sharp features are set in a cold, hostile expression, like he’s daring you to make a wrong move.

“Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous,” he mutters, his tone anything but warm, his eyes never leaving yours.