The attack

The fire had burned low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls. The room was silent except for the occasional crackle of embers and the slow, steady breathing of her companions. Ariel sat near the door, legs crossed, sharpening her dagger out of habit rather than necessity.

She hadn't been able to sleep, anyway.

Something about this place gnawed at her. The way Lazarus had spoken to her, the strange familiarity in his gaze. She wasn't used to being singled out. Not like that.

Ariel shifted her grip on the knife, pressing her thumb against the cool metal. Frank's paranoia had rubbed off on her over the years. Every nerve in her body was telling her something was wrong.

Then she heard it.

A whisper of movement.

She turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing. The door was still shut. The windows, reinforced with wooden slats, let in only the faintest trace of moonlight. But she wasn't imagining things. Something was inside the room.

Ariel rose slowly, silent as a shadow. The others slept on, oblivious. The oil lamp on the table flickered slightly as if disturbed by the air shifting.

Her grip tightened on the dagger.

Then—

A blur of black came at her from the left.

Ariel ducked, just in time to avoid the glint of a blade slicing through the space where her throat had been. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she rolled backward, coming up on one knee.

The intruder was masked, clad in dark fabric that blended into the shadows. His movements were swift and precise.

Not a scavenger. Not a common thug.

This was a trained killer.

Ariel had no time to think. She threw herself to the side as the man's dagger came at her again, catching the faint glint of steel in the dim light. She struck back, slashing low, aiming for his thigh. He twisted at the last second, her blade barely scraping his clothes.

Damn. He was fast.

The others were still asleep. She had to end this before he went for them.

The masked man lunged again, and Ariel barely managed to bring her knife up in time, steel clashing against steel. He was stronger than her, forcing her back against the wooden table. Her feet scraped against the rug as she struggled for leverage.

She needed an opening.

Then, from behind his mask, she heard something unexpected.

A chuckle.

Low. Amused.

Like, this was just a game.

Ariel gritted her teeth and shifted her weight. Instead of pushing back, she let herself drop. The sudden move threw him off balance, and she lashed out, kicking his leg out from under him. He staggered, just for a second—but a second was all she needed.

Her blade flashed. A clean slice along his arm.

He hissed and jumped back, clutching the wound.

For the first time, Ariel could see his eyes—dark, sharp, glinting with something between intrigue and calculation.

Then, before she could go in for the kill, he moved.

Not toward her. Not toward the others.

He darted for the window, twisting his body in one smooth motion to slip through the narrow opening.

Ariel lunged after him, but by the time she reached the window, he was gone.

Nothing left but the distant rustle of movement in the dark.

She stood there, breathing hard, heart hammering against her ribs.

Who the hell was that?

Behind her, the others were beginning to stir. Frank was the first to sit up, already reaching for his gun. "What happened?"

Ariel turned, still gripping her knife. "We had a visitor."

Frank's eyes darkened. "Did you kill him?"

"No," she admitted, frustration thick in her voice. "But I cut him. Left arm."

Frank cursed under his breath. He was already moving, grabbing his boots, checking his weapon. The others followed—Violet rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Oswald reaching for a flashlight.

Rolf was at the door in seconds, checking the locks. Still secure.

"Whoever it was," Ariel muttered, "they didn't come to steal from us."

Frank shot her a look. "You think they were after you?"

Ariel hesitated. The way the masked man had laughed, the way he had only fought her instead of trying to eliminate the others—

"Yeah," she said finally. "I think they were."

The weight of that realization settled in her stomach like a stone.

Frank exhaled sharply. "Then we have a problem."

No one argued.

"Where's my hamster?" All of a sudden, Ariel noticed the absence of her little companion

Outside, beyond the thick walls of the shelter, the wind howled softly. The scent of rust and decay lingered in the air.

And somewhere in the shadows, the masked man was still watching.