The basement felt smaller today, the shadows deeper. Every corner seemed to press in closer, and the air was thick with the metallic taste of fear and sweat.
Lorian stood in the center, the gun in his hand glinting faintly under the dim light. He moved with calm, practiced ease, the kind of calm that made every muscle in your body tense automatically. His presence filled the room like a living thing, and no one dared to breathe too loudly.
"Have you made your decision?" he asked, voice flat, distant, like he was asking a question about the weather. His eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on each of us.
The others flinched. Clara's shoulders shook, and a tiny whimper escaped her lips. Jacob's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Kael's jaw tightened, and his eyes darted to me, silently asking for guidance.
I swallowed hard. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to argue, to resist—but I had a plan. One final, dangerous plan. My heart was hammering, my stomach twisting, but I stood slowly, deliberately.
"Yes," I said, voice low but steady. "I'm going to die."
The words echoed in the silent basement. Lorian's eyes flicked to me, just for a moment, and I caught the faintest twitch of surprise on his face. Then his expression hardened again, unreadable, indifferent. He said nothing.
I felt every heartbeat in my chest, every nerve in my body alive with tension. I turned my gaze to the wall, keeping my back straight, knees pressed to my chest, trying to seem small, vulnerable… waiting.
One by one, he moved through the group. Hands efficient, practiced. First Jacob, then Kael, then Clara. He blindfolded them, pressed a cloth over their mouths. Clara whined softly under his grip, but he silenced her with a firm, controlled pressure. I could hear the tiny sound of Jacob struggling against the cloth, his anger and fear mixed into a low hiss. Kael barely made a sound, but the tremble in his body spoke volumes.
I stayed still, heart hammering. I watched him work, every movement precise, every flick of his eyes calculated. I didn't flinch. I didn't call out. I just kept my knees hugged to my chest, chin tucked low, letting the room shrink around me.
Finally, he turned his attention to me. I felt the weight of his gaze like ice on my skin. I didn't look up. I couldn't. I let him see nothing—not fear, not hesitation. My plan depended on him believing he had the upper hand.
He gestured toward the basement door. My stomach twisted as I watched him usher the others toward the stairs. Their muffled protests and quiet struggles echoed in the space behind me. Clara's tiny whimpers made my chest ache. Kael's hands twitched against the cloth on his face, Jacob's jaw clenched so tight it was a physical thing I could almost feel.
And all the while, I stayed where I was, pretending, waiting.
The basement door creaked as he opened it. A sliver of cold night air cut through the oppressive heat, carrying the faint scent of damp concrete. The muffled noises of the others grew faint as he led them out. I didn't move. I didn't make a sound.
Step by step, he disappeared with them, the echo of boots on the stairs fading. The sound of the basement door closing was deafening. The final click of the latch seemed to reverberate in my chest, a cruel punctuation mark.
I was alone.
The silence was immediate and suffocating. My ears strained for any sound—anything—but there was only the dull hum of the room and my own ragged breathing.
I hugged my knees tighter, letting my face bury into them. The tears started slowly, then freely, dripping down my cheeks. I didn't try to stop them. My hands shook, chest tightening with the weight of it all. The basement that had already felt too small now felt like a prison inside a prison.
I thought about the others—their muffled protests, the fear in their eyes, the helplessness that had always hung over us like a dark cloud. My throat tightened at the memory, but I said nothing. I had made a choice, and I had to let it play out.
Somewhere far away, Lorian moved them. I could imagine it: the muffled cries, the fear, the disorientation as they were dropped off somewhere distant, untied but lost. No license plate, no clue. No one to call for help. And me—left behind. Alone.
The basement was impossibly quiet now, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. My body curled tighter, my knees pressed into my chest, my fingers clutching the concrete floor. I felt small. Fragile. Human in a way I hadn't allowed myself to be in days.
And then, the basement door creaked again.
I froze. My chest tightened. Every instinct screamed. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I only let the tears run silently as my mind raced.
The door opened.
I didn't look. I didn't call out. I only pressed my face harder into my knees, letting the sobs shake through me quietly.