The city was quiet, but the old factory was never truly silent. The place carried its own breath at night—pipes creaking, walls groaning. Still, what tore Vanessa from her sleep wasn't the usual factory noises.
It was the smell.
Something sharp, thick, and nasty burned its way into her nose. The scent of charred meat. She jolted awake, sitting up with a scowl as her stomach twisted in irritation.
"What the fuck…" she muttered, her voice rough, half-asleep.
Dragging her body out of the mattress, she pushed herself up. Her hair was a tangled mess, her tank top clung slightly with sweat, and her patience was already wearing thin.
She shuffled to the door and yanked it open. The moment she did, the smell hit her harder—smoky, greasy, and wrong. Her nose wrinkled instantly. And then she caught the noise. Crackling, sizzling, like something frying under unnatural heat.
It wasn't just one sound.
There were multiple.
