The voice slid through the darkness, slow and deliberate, like something that enjoyed being heard.
A lullaby—wrong in every way it could be wrong.
"Twinkle, twinkle…"
It wasn't meant to soothe.It was meant to summon.
Misty pressed herself deeper into the shadows, every muscle locked, breath trapped painfully in her chest. She didn't move. Didn't blink. She knew better than to give herself away with something as small as sound.
The candle at the far end of the room flickered once, twice—then steadied, as if something unseen had leaned close to observe it. The smell in the air thickened. Metallic. Old.
"Honey," the voice crooned again, closer now. Too close."There's a surprise for you."
Something lay near the doorway.
She didn't need to look clearly to know what it was. The mind recognizes what it loves even when it refuses to accept it. A body folded the wrong way. A shape that would never stand again.
Her nails dug into the wood she hid behind. Splinters tore into her skin. She welcomed it. Pain was proof she hadn't disappeared yet.
Footsteps echoed.
Slow. Unhurried.
They weren't searching.
They already knew where she was.
"You always liked hiding," the voice said gently, amused."Makes it better when you finally come out."
Silence stretched until it felt alive.
Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure it betrayed her.
A breath brushed her ear.
"Found you."
She ran.
Bare feet slapped against the cold floor, lungs burning as she forced air into herself. The exit was there—so close—
Something cut through the air.
Impact.
Pain detonated in her leg, white and blinding. Her body pitched forward, the world tilting violently before the floor rushed up to meet her. Bone screamed before she did.
Her scream tore loose, raw and uncontrollable.
She clawed at the ground, nails scraping uselessly as her leg refused to respond. It burned. Throbbed. Felt wrong—like it no longer belonged to her.
Laughter answered her.
Not loud.
Casual.
"Careful," someone said lightly."You'll wake the neighbors."
She sobbed as she dragged herself forward inch by inch, blood smearing beneath her palms. Every movement sent agony ripping through her spine, but fear drove her harder than pain ever could. She reached for the darkness beneath a broken table—anywhere to disappear.
Behind her, footsteps followed.
Unrushed. Certain.
The bat scraped along the floor.
"Go on," the voice murmured, almost kindly."Hide."
She pressed herself into the shadows, shaking so hard the table legs rattled. Her injured leg screamed with every tremor. She clamped a hand over her mouth as tears streamed silently down her face.
Because she understood now—
They weren't chasing her.
They were letting her believe she still had time.
Hands closed in her hair.
She was yanked backward, pain tearing through her scalp as strands came away in her hands. Her scream broke into something hoarse as she was dragged across the floor, her injured leg scraping uselessly behind her.
"Stop—please—"
The word shattered into sobs.
Pain struck again—on the same leg—and her voice fractured completely.
They didn't rush.
They never did.
Hands restrained her. Held her still. The room felt smaller. The walls felt closer. Somewhere nearby, something hummed softly.
Recording.
Preserving.
"Punishment," someone said calmly."For running."
Time lost its shape.
Pain layered over pain until thought collapsed into instinct. Her screams thinned, then vanished—her body still reacting long after her voice failed her.
No one came.
No sirens.No interruption.No rescue.
Her gaze drifted to the floor.
He was still there.
Her lover lay unmoving where he had fallen. For one unbearable second, hope sparked that he might still be alive.
Then the bat rose again.
Once.Twice.Again.
The sound was dull now.
Final.
Something inside her went quiet.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Hope.
As the small red light blinked steadily in the dark, she understood the truth that would follow her for the rest of her life—
They weren't trying to kill her.
They were deciding who she would be when it was over.