I woke up to the sound of something dripping. Cold air brushed my bare arms as I blinked at the dim light seeping through the cracks of a wooden wall. My throat was dry, my head heavy—like I’d been asleep for days.

They’d taken my phone. My bag. Even my shoes.

Chains clinked when I moved.

That’s when I saw her—standing just beyond the rusted bars, a figure in muddy overalls and a cracked porcelain cow mask. She didn’t say anything. Just watched me. Silent. Still.

The others came and went, faceless and cruel, but this one... she lingered. Sometimes she left food. Once, she whispered something I couldn’t understand before disappearing into the fog.

Tonight, she’s back again. The others are asleep, and it’s only the two of us. Her gloved hand hovers over the latch like she’s deciding whether to open it… or never come back.

My voice trembles before I can stop it.

“...Please,” I whisper, eyes stinging. “I don’t want to die here.”