Chika

Chika woke up from her faint with a throbbing head. The room was dim, lit only by the soft light of a small lamp reflecting off the clear plastic that covered the entire space. Her nose caught the sharp scent of plastic mixed with a faint metallic smell—her own blood.

Her body felt heavy, as if all her energy had been drained. Pain spread from her legs, which she could no longer move. When she tried to touch the injured part, Chika winced in pain. Blood dried around the bruised and battered skin. She knew that, in this condition, walking was impossible.

But Chika had no choice. With labored breathing, she began dragging her body across the slick floor. The clear plastic covering the floor made a crunching sound every time her body moved slowly. Her weak hands became her only support, and pain coursed through her every time she pulled herself forward.

"I have to get out," she murmured, barely audible. Chika continued to move, her tears flowing down her cheeks, mingling with the cold sweat. The bloodstains from her wound left faint marks behind, but she didn't care. All that mattered in her mind was survival.

When she finally reached the door, her hands trembled as she tried to grasp the handle. She pulled and pushed, but the door didn't budge. It was locked.

"Please ..." she whispered, her voice hoarse and raspy. Chika knocked on the door, initially softly, then a little harder. "Please, is anyone out there?"

But only silence answered. The sound of water dripping from the corner of the room became the only thing breaking the stillness, like a cold mockery that added to her despair.

"Mom ... Dad ..." Chika called, her voice trembling. "I'm here ... Please, I don't want to die."

Her hands went limp, and she fell against the door. Her sobs grew louder. With the last of her strength, she knocked on the door again, this time harder. "Someone, please."

Chika looked around the room, hoping there was something that could help her. But there was nothing. No objects, no tools—just the clear plastic that wrapped the walls and floor. This place felt like a trap designed to make her powerless.

She gritted her teeth, trying to rise by leaning against the door, but her legs couldn't bear her weight. She fell again, her back hitting the floor, and pain spread throughout her body.

Chika lay still for a moment, trying to catch her breath. In the midst of her despair, her mind wandered to her parents. She thought of her mother's loving face and her father's smile that always made her feel safe. "Mom ... Dad ..." she called again, her voice weakening. "Please, help ... please."

Seconds turned to minutes, and Chika's body grew weaker. She tried to calm herself, but fear continued to haunt her. Would anyone find her before it was too late? Or was this the end for her?

Chika's eyes began to close slowly, but her sobs could still be heard faintly, echoing in the cold, silent room. Outside, no one knew a girl was lying, covered in wounds, pleading for help in her desperation.

On the other side of the door, Mr. Ali sat comfortably on a soft sofa, sipping his coffee. He could hear Chika's cries very clearly. Like a beautiful melody, it lifted Mr. Ali's spirits.

It was truly a pleasure.

***

It's been almost two days since the news of Chika's disappearance spread. The news quickly became hot gossip in the school and the surrounding community. Speculation emerged—some suspected Chika ran away from home, while others believed she was a victim of kidnapping, just like in previous cases. However, no one knew for sure what had really happened, except Karin and Arzan, who knew about the blacklist and most likely Mr. Ali's involvement.

Karin sat on the edge of her bed, holding her phone with trembling hands. Her mind was filled with anxiety and regret. Their suspicions were right—Chika's name, circled in red in that book, had turned out to be a bad omen. Now, Chika had gone missing. She replayed their last conversation in her mind.

In the midst of her daydreaming, her phone beeped, indicating a new message. Karin grabbed it quickly, hoping for good news, but what she found made her blood run cold. The message came from an unknown number, but its contents immediately made her realize who the sender was.

'Return my book. But don't bring anyone, or your pretty friend will disappear.'

The message ended with a location, about an hour's travel from Karin's house. Her fingers trembled as she read the message over and over, as if to make sure this was real.

"Mr. Ali ..." Karin whispered softly. Her breath felt heavy as her mind was flooded with all the possible bad outcomes. If she went alone as requested, there was no guarantee that either she or Chika would make it out alive. But if she didn't go, Chika's life was clearly in danger.

Karin stared at the black book lying on her study desk. It almost seemed to stare back at her, full of haunting secrets. What should she do?

"If I hand over the book ... will Chika be set free?" Karin thought aloud. But then she remembered—this wasn't just about the book. It was about someone capable of doing terrible things to Chika and possibly wouldn't stop there.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. In the midst of her panic, Karin realized that the only rational option was to report this to the police. Yes, that was the right decision. She knew handing over the book alone wouldn't solve the problem. If anything happened to Chika, she couldn't live with the guilt.

She was preparing to leave when suddenly her phone rang again. "Hello, Zan?"

"Rin? Do you think this is my fault?" Arzan's weak voice made Karin stop in her tracks. "I should have come to her house sooner, right?"

"Arzan, for now, just stay calm. I have evidence for the police," she said as she quickly ran to the shoe rack. "After this, we just have to hope Chika is okay."

"Hmmm."

"We're just high school kids, there's a lot we can't do on our own, including this case. So don't blame yourself too much." Suddenly, Karin was speaking her words of wisdom. In truth, she too was panicked about the situation, but if they both seemed weak, who would strengthen them?

Karin stepped out of her house with strong resolve, even though her heart was pounding. The sun was still shining brightly, and the warm weather gave her some courage to go alone. The neighborhood complex looked as quiet as usual, but there was one thing that made her feel a little safer—the CCTV cameras at every corner of the houses.

Every time she passed a camera, Karin waved her hand deliberately, hoping that someone who watched the footage would notice her presence if anything happened. Her steps quickened as she exited the complex. From here, the police station was only about five minutes' walk. Not wanting to waste time, she decided to run.

But as Karin was running along the empty sidewalk, the sound of a car engine approaching from behind caught her attention. A black car slowed down and suddenly stopped beside her. Before Karin could react, the car door was roughly opened.

A large, strong hand grabbed her arm, pulling her forcefully into the car. Karin tried to fight back, her body resisting with all her might. She wanted to scream, but the sound was choked in her throat as the rough hand closed over her mouth tightly.

"Quiet," hissed a familiar voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Karin looked up with wide, terrified eyes, and that face appeared before her. Mr. Ali. His smile was cold and terrifying, a far cry from the man she usually saw at school.

"Shh ... Calm down, Karin," he said in a tone that almost sounded like a whisper. But it wasn't the soft tone that calmed her—it was the hidden threat behind his words.

Karin tried to bite the hand covering her mouth, but her efforts were in vain. Before she could do anything else, a hard blow struck the back of her neck. Pain spread quickly, and her vision began to blur.

Karin slumped in the car seat, which was now speeding away, leaving behind the empty road and the nightmare that had just begun.