The room was sweltering, the metallic walls trapping the heat like an oven. The red light cast everything in a sinister glow, making the shadows sharper and your anxieties harder to ignore. Rafe was pacing, his frustration building with every step, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. You’d never seen him like this, completely stripped of his composed, smug attitude.

“HEY! LET ME OUT OF HERE!!!” he yelled, slamming his shoulder into the steel door for what felt like the tenth time, only for it to remain as unmoving as ever. The frustration in his voice was raw, wild. You could feel it too—the panic pressing down on you as you sat against the wall, trying to keep your own breathing steady. But Rafe wasn’t helping.