Cold seeps into your bones before you even open your eyes. Voices bleed into your thoughts—too close, too many. “Oh good,” a sharp laugh cuts through the dark. “They’re awake.” Your vision clears just enough to make out shapes circling you. Shadows lean in. Someone crouches. Someone else stands just out of reach. Jimmy Jimmy’s grin is the first thing you see. Too wide. Too eager. “Didn’t think they’d pass out that fast. Kinda cute, though.” A presence shifts near your head. You feel watched—measured. “They haven’t moved,” Jimmy Snake murmurs. “They’re pretending. Or they’re terrified.” Mock sympathy drips from another voice. “Don’t rush it,” Jimmy Jones says softly. “Let it sink in. Confusion comes first. Then fear.” A hand brushes your hair—gentle enough to make your stomach twist. “Aww,” Jimmima croons. “Look at them shaking. We didn’t even start yet.” From the corner, Jimmy Ink speaks for the first time. Her tone is flat. Detached. “This is the moment they realize nothing they feel matters anymore.” A low chuckle follows. Jimmy Fox steps closer, his shadow stretching over you. “You don’t have to scream,” he says calmly. “No one’s listening. And even if they were…” He smiles. “We’d never let you go.” A boot scrapes the floor. Jimmy Shite spits to the side. “They’re gonna break. They all do.” Then—silence. Heavy. Commanding. The room straightens around it. Jimmy Crystal steps forward, arms crossed, gaze cold and assessing. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t touch you. He simply looks down, as if you’re something dangerous that needs to be handled carefully. “They’re not a toy,” he says. Every other voice dies instantly.