Karin woke up with a pounding headache, her neck sore from the brutal blow dealt by the man she now regarded as a deranged psychopath. The room she was in felt cold and eerie, with walls and ceiling covered in clear plastic. Every reflection of light cast strange shadows, adding to the feeling that this was not a safe place.
She shakily reached into her pants pocket. Empty. Her phone was gone. Karin sighed softly; of course, the man wouldn't be foolish enough to leave behind something that could help her.
Steeling herself, Karin slowly stood up. Her steps were light, almost soundless, as she tried to find a window, but there was nothing. The walls were tightly covered with something black, like thick curtains, blocking any view to the outside. There was no natural light, only artificial lighting that made the room feel even more suffocating.
Karin took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. I have to think clearly, she whispered to herself. The only way out seemed to be the door ahead.
Fear began to grip her. Inside, Karin started praying, pleading for protection and safety. She swore to herself, If I get out of here, I'll change. I'll be a good child. I'll obey my parents, respect my teachers, and care more about my friends. I'll study harder and get into Universitas Indonesia. I'll be a much better person. Anything, as long as I can get out of here.
Karin slowly moved toward the door. Each step felt heavy, as if an invisible weight was holding her back. But halfway there, her foot suddenly brushed against something hard and cold. She looked down, noticing a small object rolling slowly on the floor covered in plastic.
A screwdriver.
There was dried blood on its tip. Karin shuddered, her mind racing with thoughts of who the blood might belong to. But she quickly pushed the horrifying image away. She swiftly picked up the screwdriver and slipped it into the pocket of her clothes.
Her heart raced as she looked back at the door in front of her. The screwdriver in her pocket felt like her only hope in this chaotic situation. She swallowed, gathering whatever courage she had left. Whatever awaited her behind that door, she knew she had to face it.
With trembling hands, Karin slowly approached the door, preparing to open it and face an unknown fate.
Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing Mr. Ali, holding a plate of fried chicken. "Hello, Karin." His cold smile never faltered.
Karin didn't answer him. She just backed away until her back hit the wall. Fear wrapped around her, but she tried to appear calm.
"Hmmm? Why so scared?" Mr. Ali extended the plate of fried chicken toward Karin. "Eat it before it gets cold." He casually sat down facing her.
"I want to leave here."
Mr. Ali's smile faltered for a moment, but then he smiled again. "Just stay here, okay?"
Gathering her courage, Karin then asked, "Where is Chika?"
"She's in the next room. Don't worry, she's still alive, but she might have trouble walking because her leg hurts." Mr. Ali paused. "It's because she was a naughty girl. Isn't she the one who spilled cold drinks on your uniform? I'm here to punish her."
Karin's heart raced faster upon hearing that. What happened to Chika's leg?
Karin decided to play it safe. She took the plate Mr. Ali offered her. There was no point in resisting right now—what she needed was the perfect opportunity to strike. The screwdriver hidden in her pocket was her only weapon, and she only had one shot to use it.
She racked her brain, trying to find the most effective target.
The stomach? Maybe, but that would take more effort.
The groin? A good choice, enough to ruin his future.
The eyes? Easier to target, but getting the chance to strike there would be difficult.
Karin swallowed, pushing the doubt aside for a moment. For now, she had to play along with Mr. Ali. Slowly, she sat down on the floor and picked up a piece of fried chicken from the plate. Her teeth could barely bite through it, and her stomach churned just thinking about her situation.
But she forced herself. She bit into the chicken slowly, not even enjoying the taste that should've been delicious. In front of her, Mr. Ali sat, staring at her with a smile that sent chills down her spine.
"Good, good. Eat a lot," Mr. Ali said, gently patting Karin's head as if he were a loving father. But his tone grew cold when he continued, "Because this will be your last meal."
Karin choked at those words. Her eyes widened as she stared at Mr. Ali in sheer terror. Mr. Ali just laughed, his voice echoing through the quiet room, sending shivers down Karin's spine. She couldn't wait any longer. It was time to act.
With trembling hands, Karin grabbed the screwdriver from her pocket. In one swift movement, she tried to jab its sharp tip into Mr. Ali's eye. But her effort was in vain. Mr. Ali easily caught her hand in mid-air.
"Oh, so you dare to fight back?" Mr. Ali's voice was low but laced with threat.
Karin panicked, trying to pull her hand away, but Mr. Ali's grip was too strong. In an instant, the screwdriver reversed direction, now pointing at her own chest. Karin struggled to hold it back with both hands.
"Now, you're going to feel it," Mr. Ali said with a quiet laugh. He pressed Karin's hand hard, forcing the screwdriver closer to her body.
"No! Please! Don't!" Karin pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands trembled, trying to hold back the pressure. But Mr. Ali was much stronger. The screwdriver drew closer to her skin, cold and sharp, making her heart race.
Karin screamed inwardly, trying to find an opening to fight back. But her body felt weak, and fear paralyzed her. Her tears kept flowing, while her mind was filled with grim images of her impending death.
Mr. Ali smiled coldly, savoring the panic that was written on Karin's face. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Don't worry, this is just the beginning of your punishment."
Mr. Ali yanked the screwdriver back roughly, attempting to stab it into Karin's body. Without thinking, Karin raised her left hand to block the attack. However, her impulsive movement caused the screwdriver to nearly pierce her palm.
"Aarrghh!" Karin screamed, her body shaking violently as the pain spread throughout her hand. Blood began to pour out rapidly, dark red staining the floor. Karin bit her lip, trying to suppress her screams so they wouldn't sound too pitiful. Each second felt agonizingly long, and the pain seemed to burn away all her strength.
Mr. Ali stepped back for a moment, observing Karin in agony. A cold smile spread across his face as he watched the blood flow from Karin's hand. Karin clasped her left hand, trying to stop the bleeding. She knew that if the screwdriver was pulled out, the blood would flow even faster.
However, the pain intensified, and Karin felt as if she were about to faint.
Angrily, Mr. Ali kicked the plate of fried chicken, sending it flying across the room. The fried chicken that was supposed to be her meal lay on the floor, like the remnants of Karin's will to live, wasted. Mr. Ali advanced, his steps filled with rage, and Karin knew this was the right moment.
Pain? Certainly. Every movement in her body felt like being stabbed with a knife, but she had to endure. Karin forced her body to appear weak, using the pain that controlled her to her advantage.
Mr. Ali was getting closer, his strides growing larger. In Karin's mind, those moments passed excruciatingly slow, but now time was on her side. In seconds, Karin gathered all the strength she had left. Once Mr. Ali was within reach, Karin swiftly and decisively raised her leg.
A hard kick struck Mr. Ali's groin, and immediately, his body crumpled to the ground, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Even a psychopath like Mr. Ali couldn't avoid the effects of a blow to such a sensitive area.
Karin wasted no time. The pain still ravaging her body told her that every second was a fight for survival. With nearly all her energy spent, she ran toward the door.
With her left hand still covered in blood, she grabbed the key hanging from the doorknob. Her left hand shook, more blood flowing, but Karin did everything she could to close the door from the outside.
Just before Mr. Ali could rise, Karin successfully locked the door, hearing his enraged shout echo from the other side. In that instant, Karin's body slumped, but her heart began to race, filled with a small sense of victory. She wasn't dead. At least, not today.