Cooperate or Die

Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn't stop them from falling. My body shook, and my chest ached with disbelief and desperation. Why did he leave me? Why didn't he take me with him?

The door slammed open, and I froze. The man in the mask was done chasing Jason.

His heavy footsteps echoed, cursing under his breath. His anger filled the room, hitting me like an electric shock.

"Damn it!" His voice was muffled, but the fury was unmistakable. "You let him get away?"

The woman in the room stiffened, her hands shaking. She didn't speak, just nervously glanced between me and the masked man. The fear on her face mirrored mine.

I tried to press myself as small as possible against the wall, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. I was trapped.

The masked man's voice dropped, cold and dangerous. "I told you to control her. Now look what you've done."

The woman's eyes widened, almost regretful. Then she looked at me, her gaze full of hesitation. She was scared too.

But it didn't matter.

"Get it done," the masked man snapped. "Inject her. Now."

A wave of terror washed over me, and I struggled against the restraints, but my body felt weak. Useless. The woman stepped toward me, syringe in hand, like it was a weapon.

"No… please…" My voice barely broke the silence.

She didn't look at me. Maybe she couldn't, or didn't want to. Her hands trembled as she raised the needle, as if she didn't want to do this either. But the masked man's cold eyes burned into her.

"Do it," he ordered, his voice steady. "Now."

Her hand shook as she pressed the needle into my skin. I flinched, my breath catching in my throat. My mind screamed to move, to fight, but my body wouldn't obey. I couldn't stop it.

I closed my eyes tight, tears streaming down my face as I braced for what was coming.

The cold hit first.

It crept in slowly, sinking through the mattress beneath me, until it settled like ice in my bones. I shivered, barely able to move, my body feeling like lead. My eyelids fluttered open to a blurry world of yellow light.

The room was tiny, barely bigger than a closet. A flickering bulb hung above, buzzing incessantly, like a reminder that I was trapped. The walls were bare, stained, and the air thick with stagnation.

I pushed myself up weakly, hands trembling as I tried to steady myself. Every part of me screamed to move, to escape, but fear had me paralyzed. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

A creak from the corner. My heart skipped. There, sitting in a chair by the door, was a figure. His face was hidden by a smooth, featureless mask. He didn't speak. Didn't move. He just watched. Waited.

I swallowed hard. "Where… where am I?" My voice cracked.

No response. Just the faint creak of the chair as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His head tilted slightly, like he was studying me.

Tears burned at my eyes, but I blinked them away. I refused to cry. Not in front of him.

"You shouldn't have tried to run," he said, his voice low and distorted by the mask. Cold. Unmoved.

My heart twisted. Jason. Where was he? My mind screamed for him. He had to be here. He had to be safe. But silence swallowed that hope whole. He was gone.

The man stood, his movements slow and deliberate. Three long strides, boots thudding softly on the floor. He stopped beside the bed, looming over me. His presence suffocating.

"You're going to answer some questions," he said, his voice unnervingly calm. "Tell me everything you know."

I squeezed my eyes shut, gathering whatever resolve I had left. When I opened them, he was still there, watching me.

"You try to scream," he warned, his voice low and dangerous, "and you'll find no one's coming for you. No one can hear you here."

My breath caught, my heart hammering. I didn't answer. I couldn't. My body was frozen.

For a moment, he didn't move, just standing there, his presence like a weight pressing down on me. It felt like he was deciding whether my silence was worth breaking—or if I was just a pawn in a larger game.

Then, his voice dropped, sharp as a blade. "You'll cooperate," he said, each word precise, "or you'll die here."

His words slapped me, my breath hitching. He was serious.

The man straightened, unimpressed by my silence. He gave me a final, disinterested glance before turning to the door. The hinges creaked as he pulled it open. Without another word, he stepped out, leaving the door swinging slightly.

The door slammed shut with a loud, metallic clang. The click of the lock echoed, and I was left alone, my thoughts racing and the dread settling into my bones.