Samuel's footsteps echoed through the narrow streets of Mariston, his flashlight cutting through the oppressive darkness. The town felt eerily still, the kind of stillness that prickled his skin and made him glance over his shoulder every few steps. The dim glow of the streetlights did little to dispel the shadows, which seemed to creep closer with every passing second.
He gripped the kitchen knife tightly, its cold handle pressing into his palm. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he couldn't bear sitting at home any longer. Somewhere out there, Adanne was waiting for him—or so he hoped.
His search began where it had ended earlier that day: the spot where her scarf and groceries had been scattered. Kneeling, Samuel examined the ground more closely, shining his flashlight over the cracked pavement. He spotted faint tire marks leading away from the scene, the tread patterns distinct against the dirt.
A van.
The woman's words haunted him: "The black van… pregnant women… they never come back."
He straightened and followed the tracks, his heart pounding with every step. The trail led him down a side street, narrower and darker than the main road. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
"Adanne," he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling. "I'm coming."
The sound of distant footsteps made him freeze. He swung the flashlight around, its beam cutting through the shadows, but the street was empty.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing.
Silence.
Samuel clenched his jaw and pressed on, his resolve hardening. He couldn't let fear stop him—not now.
---
The tracks led him to the outskirts of town, where abandoned warehouses loomed like forgotten giants. Rusted metal doors and broken windows marked the once-bustling industrial area, now a graveyard of industry. Samuel's flashlight flickered as he approached, its beam dancing over the crumbling facades.
He stopped in front of a large, rusted gate. The tire tracks disappeared beyond it, the dirt disturbed as though something heavy had been dragged through. Samuel hesitated. The air here felt heavier, oppressive, as if the very ground was trying to warn him to turn back.
But he couldn't.
He pushed the gate open with a groan that echoed into the night, and stepped inside.
---
Inside the compound, the silence was suffocating. The faint hum of crickets outside seemed like a distant memory here. Samuel's flashlight revealed a courtyard littered with debris—broken glass, scraps of metal, and what looked like discarded clothing.
His stomach churned as he spotted something among the rags: a shoe. A woman's shoe.
Kneeling, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It was scuffed and dirty, but unmistakably feminine. His mind raced. Could it belong to Adanne? Or someone else?
A sudden noise snapped him out of his thoughts—a metallic clang, followed by the sound of footsteps.
Samuel shot to his feet, his knife trembling in his grip. He pointed the flashlight toward the source of the noise, his breath hitching as he called out, "Who's there?"
No response.
The footsteps grew louder, deliberate and slow, as if whoever—or whatever—was approaching wanted him to know they were coming.
"Stay back!" Samuel shouted, his voice cracking.
The beam of his flashlight finally caught movement—a figure emerging from the shadows. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a wide-brimmed hat that cast his face in shadow.
Samuel's breath caught in his throat. The description matched what the homeless woman had said.
"Where's my wife?" Samuel demanded, taking a step forward despite the trembling in his legs.
The man said nothing, his head tilting slightly as if studying Samuel. Then, with a deliberate motion, he reached into his coat.
"Don't move!" Samuel warned, raising the knife.
The man's hand emerged, holding something small and metallic—a key. He dangled it in the air for a moment before slipping it into his pocket.
"Leave," the man said, his voice deep and raspy.
"Not without my wife," Samuel shot back.
The man took a step forward, and Samuel's flashlight illuminated his face—or what should have been his face. Instead, Samuel saw a grotesque mask, its surface covered in jagged scars and dark smears. The sight made Samuel recoil in horror.
The man lunged.
Samuel barely had time to react. He swung the flashlight wildly, the beam spinning in every direction. The man's fist connected with his shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground. The knife clattered out of his hand, skidding across the dirt.
Before Samuel could scramble to his feet, the man grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up.
"Leave," the man growled again, his voice like gravel.
Samuel's mind raced. He couldn't overpower this man—not physically. His only chance was to outsmart him.
"Tell me where she is!" Samuel shouted, struggling against the man's grip.
The man hesitated, his grip loosening slightly. For a brief moment, Samuel saw something behind the mask—hesitation, maybe even guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
The man shoved Samuel backward, sending him crashing into a pile of debris. Before Samuel could recover, the man turned and disappeared into the shadows, his footsteps fading into the night.
---
Samuel lay there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Every part of him ached, but his mind was sharper than ever. Whoever this man was, he knew something about Adanne. And Samuel wasn't going to stop until he found her.
He retrieved his flashlight and knife, both scratched and dented but still usable, and pressed on. The warehouse loomed ahead, its massive doors slightly ajar.
Taking a deep breath, Samuel stepped inside.
---
The air inside the warehouse was stale, thick with the scent of oil and decay. Rows of metal shelves stretched into the darkness, their surfaces coated in dust and cobwebs. Samuel's footsteps echoed against the concrete floor as he moved cautiously, his flashlight scanning the space.
He stopped abruptly when the beam landed on something chilling: a table.
It was large and metal, its surface stained with dark, unidentifiable marks. Beside it stood a tray of tools—scalpels, saws, and other instruments that Samuel couldn't even name. His stomach churned as he realized what this place was—a makeshift operating room.
Suddenly, a faint sound reached his ears. A muffled cry.
"Adanne?" Samuel called out, his voice shaking.
The cry grew louder, more desperate. It was coming from somewhere deeper within the warehouse.
Samuel broke into a run, his fear momentarily forgotten. He navigated the maze of shelves and debris, following the sound. It led him to a heavy door at the back of the building.
He tried the handle, but it was locked.
"Adanne!" he shouted, pounding on the door.
The cries on the other side intensified, joined by the sound of something scraping against the floor. Samuel's panic reached a fever pitch. He slammed his shoulder against the door, but it didn't budge.
Desperation took over. He raised the flashlight and brought it down on the lock with all his strength. The first hit barely made a dent, but he kept going, his arms aching with the effort.
Finally, the lock snapped, and the door swung open.
What Samuel saw on the other side would haunt him forever.
The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit chamber. Samuel's flashlight flickered, its beam struggling to penetrate the murkiness. The smell hit him first-a nauseating mix of blood, antiseptic, and decay that churned his stomach. He hesitated, gripping the knife in his trembling hand, before stepping inside. The walls were lined with shelves filled with jars. He froze as his flashlight illuminated their contents: floating body parts-hands, fingers, and even small, misshapen forms suspended in murky liquid. His breath hitched as he took a shaky step forward, unable to tear his gaze from the grotesque display. The muffled cries grew louder, pulling him from his horrified stupor. "Adanne!" he shouted, his voice cracking as he raced deeper into the room.
In the center, he found her. Adanne was strapped to a metal gurney, her wrists and ankles bound with thick leather straps. Her face was pale and streaked with tears, her lips trembling as muffled sobs escaped from behind a gag Her belly rose prominently under the dim light, a sharp contrast to the horrors surrounding her. "Adanne!" Samuel choked out, rushing to her side. Her wide, terrified eyes met his, and she began to thrash against her restraints, he muffled cries turning frantic. "lIt's okay! I'm here!" Samuel reassured he frantically working at the straps binding her wrists. "Ill get you out of here, I promise."
As he worked, a shadow shifted behind him. Samuel spun around just as a heavy object smashed into his shoulder. The force sent him sprawling to the ground, his knife skittering out of reach. He groaned, clutching his arm, and looked up to see the man in the wide-brimmed hat towering over him. "You shouldn't have come here," the man growled, his voice low and venomous. "Let her go!" Samuel shouted, struggling to his feet. The man's lips curled into a cruel smile beneath his mask. "You don't understand, do you? She's special. They all are." Samuel lunged at him, but the man sidestepped easily, delivering a brutal kick
to Samuel's ribs. He crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. "You think you can take her back?" the man sneered, leaning down to grab Samue by the collar. "Do you even know why she's here?" Samuel glared at him, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "She's my wife. That's all I need to know." The man's smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of frustration. He yanked Samuel to his feet and shoved him against the wall. "You're interfering with something bigger than you" he hissed. "Something you can't begin to comprehend." Behind him, Adanne's muffled cries grew more desperate. Samuel's eyes darted toward her, his heart breaking at the sight of her helplessness.
He had to do something...
Summoning every ounce of strength, Samuel drove his knee into the man's groin. The man stumbled back with a grunt, momentarily stunned. Samuel didn't hesitate-he dove for the knife, grabbing it just as the man regained his footing. With a shout, Samuel lunged, slashing wildly. The blade caught the man's arm, drawing a dark streak of blood. The man snarled, clutching his wound. "You'll regret that." But Sanmuel didn't care. He turned and sprinted toward Adanne, cutting the straps around her wrists and ankles with frantic precision. "Can you walk?" he asked, pulling the gag from her mouth.
Adanne nodded weakly, her voice hoarse. "I think so." Samuel helped her to her feet, supporting her weight as they stumbled toward the door. Behind them, the man shouted in rage, his footsteps pounding after them. "Run!" Samuel urged, pushing Adanne ahead of him. They burst out of the chamber and into the warehouse, the cool night air a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room they'd escaped. Adanne's breaths came in ragged gasps as Samuel guided her toward the gate. Just as they reached it, a loud bang echoed behind them. Samuel turned to see the man standing in the doorway, a shotgun in his hands.
"Move!" Samuel shouted, dragging Adanne through the gate as the first shot rang out. The pellets struck the metal gate, sending sparks flying. Samuel and Adanne ducked, scrambling toward the darkness of the surrounding woods. They ran until their lungs burned and their legs gave out, collapsing in a dense thicket. Samuel held Adanne close, his hand gently stroking her hair as she sobbed into his chest. "It's okay" he whispered, though his own voice trembled. "We're safe now." But deep down, he knew it wasn't over. The man in the mask wasn't just some random criminal. He was part of something far more sinister, and Samuel had only Scratched the surface. As Adanne's sobs subsided, Samuel made a silent vow: he would uncover the truth, no matter the cost.