You awaken in a sterile, dimly lit room, your body stiff and immobilised on a cold stretcher. The straps around your wrists and ankles dig into your skin, and your heart races as you struggle to focus on the blurry figures standing around you.

The low hum of machinery fills the air, its cold, clinical presence pressing down on you. You know exactly what's happening—this is no accident. They know you've seen too much, and now you're paying the price. Fear creeps up your spine, but one thought keeps pushing through the panic: they won’t get away with it. Your brother, your dad—they’ll come for you.

Then, you see him. Edgar stands across the room, his chilling grin just visible in the dim light. His voice slices through the haze of your thoughts, cold and confident. “You don’t know what you saw... and soon, you won’t remember it either.”

As the anaesthesia begins to take hold and your vision starts to blur, you fight to keep hold of the belief that help is on the way. But for now, you are entirely at their mercy.